Chapter 6 - The Matriarch’s Decree
The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
Teresa Moretti stood in the doorway, wearing a black wool shawl over her birthday dress. Despite the walker, she looked like a queen surveying a battlefield. Behind her stood two massive men in dark suits, their hands resting over their jackets.
“Mother,” Luca said, his voice laced with shock. “You shouldn't be here.”
“Nonsense,” Teresa said, her voice steady and commanding. She took a slow step into the room, her eyes fixing directly on Arthur Volante. “When Silvio told me my son was chasing down a ghost from our past, I decided it was time to handle family business myself.”
Arthur’s smug smile faltered. He took a small step backward. “Teresa. You’re looking well.”
“Do not speak to me with familiarity, Arthur,” she snapped, the authority in her tone making the hair on my arms stand up. “You are a thief. You stole from our family fund six years ago, and my son showed you mercy by allowing you to keep your legs. It appears that mercy was wasted.”
Arthur tightened his grip on the diamond cross. “I hold all the cards here, Teresa. I own the deed to the girl’s house. I have proof of Marco’s illegal payoffs to Blake. You touch me, and the police get everything.”
Teresa didn't look threatened. She looked profoundly disappointed.
She turned her head slightly. “Mr. Whitmore. If you please.”
A tall, distinguished man in a tuxedo stepped out from behind Teresa’s guards. It was Celeste’s father, the owner of the hotel empire.
Celeste gasped. “Dad?”
Mr. Whitmore walked over to his daughter, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders. Then he looked at Arthur with absolute disgust.
“Arthur Volante,” Mr. Whitmore said smoothly. “You seem to be under the impression that your holding company still possesses the deed to the Ellis property.”
Arthur frowned. “I processed the transfer yesterday.”
“Yes, you did,” Mr. Whitmore agreed. “And three hours ago, after Teresa called me regarding your involvement with my daughter’s fiancé, my legal team initiated a hostile takeover of your holding company. We bought your outstanding debts, seized your assets, and froze your accounts.”
Arthur’s face drained of color. “You... you can't do that in three hours.”
“I own half the real estate in this state,” Mr. Whitmore said coldly. “I can do whatever I please when my daughter is threatened.”
Teresa smiled grimly. “You own nothing, Arthur. You have no leverage. You have no power. All you have is a piece of stolen jewelry that belongs on my neck.”
Arthur looked frantically between Luca, Marco, and the guards blocking the door. He was trapped.
With a trembling hand, Arthur held out the cross.
Luca stepped forward, snatched it from his fingers, and handed it to his mother.
“Marco,” Luca said quietly.
Marco didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed Arthur by the collar, dragging him toward the door. “You and I are going to have a very long conversation about my sister’s house,” Marco growled.
Arthur didn't fight back. He looked completely defeated as Marco dragged him out into the hallway.
The hotel suite suddenly felt huge and quiet.
Celeste hugged her father tightly, sobbing into his shoulder. Mr. Whitmore stroked her hair, glaring at the door where Arthur had disappeared.
“Where is Blake?” I asked, realizing the man who started all of this was nowhere to be seen.
“He ran,” Celeste sniffled, wiping her eyes. “When Arthur showed up and took the pawn ticket, Blake realized Arthur was double-crossing him. He panicked and climbed out the fire escape before you got here.”
“He won’t get far,” Luca said, his eyes dark. “My men are watching the airports and the train stations. He’s finished in this city.”
Teresa walked slowly toward me. She reached out and gently cupped my cheek with her wrinkled hand.
“I am sorry, Nora,” she said softly. “I am sorry that my family’s past brought violence to your doorstep. You did not deserve this.”
“It’s not your fault,” I whispered. “You saved my house. You saved Marco.”
Teresa’s eyes softened. “Marco is a good boy. He made mistakes, but his heart is loyal. And you... you have your mother’s strength.”
She reached into her small clutch purse and pulled out a thick, sealed envelope.
“Mr. Whitmore’s legal team found this in Arthur’s safe when they seized his assets an hour ago,” Teresa said, pressing the envelope into my hands. “It was filed with the original deed to your home. Arthur kept it hidden.”
I looked down at the envelope.
Across the front, in my mother’s neat, cursive handwriting, were the words: For Nora and Marco. When the time is right.
My breath hitched.
“Open it,” Luca said gently, stepping up beside me.
I broke the wax seal. Inside was a single piece of heavy stationery.
I unfolded it and began to read aloud, my voice shaking with every word.
My dearest Nora, and my beloved Marco. If you are reading this, it means my time has passed, and the two of you have finally found each other. I prayed every day for this moment.
Nora, Blake is not the man you think he is. I saw the darkness in him long before I got sick. I knew he was gambling. I knew he was lying to you. And I knew that when I died, he would try to take the only thing I had left to give you: our home.
I stopped, tears spilling onto the paper. My mother had known. She had known Blake was destroying our marriage, and she had tried to protect me.
I took a shaky breath and continued reading.
But Blake does not know the truth. The deed he thinks he possesses is a dummy copy. Before I passed, I transferred the true ownership of the house into an irrevocable trust. A trust that requires two signatures to access. Yours, Nora. And your brother’s.
I looked up. Marco was standing in the doorway, having handed Arthur off to the guards. He was staring at me, his eyes wide.
May you like
Marco, the letter continued, I never stopped loving you. Sending you away was the greatest failure of my life. I hope this house can finally be the home you were denied.
I collapsed against Luca’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably.
