Chapter 12 - A SEAT AT THE TABLE
Six months later.
The morning sun poured through the massive bay windows of the Moretti mansion, casting a warm, golden glow over the polished mahogany dining table.
I stood near the grand staircase, but I wasn't wearing a maid's uniform. I wore a tailored navy blue blazer and crisp trousers. I held a leather binder filled with estate documents, charity event schedules, and financial reports.
Answer one: Luca hadn't fired me. He hadn't banished me for being a Costello. He had elevated me.
The mansion felt different now. The oppressive, heavy shadows of the mafia legacy had been scrubbed clean. When Luca handed the ledger to the Commission, he negotiated a complete exit from the syndicate. The Morettis were now strictly legitimate businessmen, focusing entirely on their global restaurant empire and real estate holdings.
The front doors swung open, bringing a gust of crisp Chicago air into the foyer.
Gianna walked in, laughing brightly. She looked healthier, her face glowing with genuine happiness. Her hands, though still bearing faint scars from the laundry presses, were adorned with delicate gold rings.
Right beside her, holding her hand, was Daniel.
He moved a little slower, a permanent reminder of the bullet he took at the train station, but his eyes were clear and devoted. The cowardly husband was gone. He had spent the last six months proving himself, working as a manager at one of Luca’s bakeries, coming home every night at 5:00 PM.
“Emma!”
A small tornado of energy crashed into my legs.
It was Leo. He was seven years old now, his asthma fully under control, and his face lit up with a massive, gap-toothed smile.
“Hey, buddy!” I laughed, ruffling his dark hair. “Did you finish your project for school?”
“Yeah! Look!” Leo proudly held up a piece of construction paper. It was a drawing of a large house. But this time, it wasn't a cry for help. It was a drawing of Gianna, Daniel, Leo, Luca, and me, all holding hands.
My heart swelled.
Reversal of fortune: Gianna hadn't gone to prison. Because she had surrendered at the cathedral and never actually pulled the trigger, Luca had used his final mafia influence to expunge her involvement in the old crimes. She was given a second chance at life, and she was seizing every second of it.
As for my mother, Maria Costello was serving a twenty-year sentence in a federal penitentiary for extortion. I visited her once a month. The glass partition between us was thick, but it was necessary. I loved her, but I was no longer her pawn.
Footsteps echoed from the top of the grand staircase.
Luca Moretti walked down, adjusting the cuffs of his immaculate grey suit. The heavy, dark burden of the don had vanished from his eyes. He looked lighter, younger, and truly at peace.
“Is everyone hungry?” Luca asked, smiling as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Starving!” Daniel laughed, wrapping his arm securely around Gianna’s waist.
“Good,” Luca said, turning toward the dining room. “Let’s eat.”
I watched the family walk into the dining room. I smiled, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. I closed my binder and turned to walk toward my new office in the west wing.
“Emma?”
I stopped and turned around.
Luca was standing in the doorway of the dining room. He wasn't looking at me like an employee. He was looking at me with a warmth that made my breath catch in my throat.
“Where are you going?” he asked softly.
“To my office, Luca,” I replied, easily using his first name now. “I have to finalize the charity gala catering.”
Luca shook his head slowly. He walked over to me, gently took the leather binder from my hands, and placed it on the entryway table.
“The gala can wait,” he said, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
He offered me his arm.
I looked at him, my heart fluttering. The unspoken tension, the mutual respect, and the quiet affection that had grown between us over the last six months hung beautifully in the air.
I slipped my arm through his.
He led me into the grand dining room. Gianna was pouring juice for Leo. Daniel was laughing at a joke. The room was filled with light, love, and a family that had survived the fire and come out stronger.
Luca pulled out the chair directly to his right—the seat of honor.
“You don't serve this family anymore, Emma,” Luca said, his voice thick with emotion. “You saved us. You belong here.”
I looked at the beautiful table. I looked at Gianna, who smiled warmly at me, and little Leo, who patted the empty chair next to him.
Tears of pure joy pricked my eyes. The poor maid who was humiliated for serving a plate of food was gone forever.
I sat down at the table.
Luca took his seat at the head. He raised his crystal glass of water.
“To truth,” Luca said, looking around the table, his eyes lingering on me. “And to the family we choose.”
May you like
“To family,” we all echoed, our glasses clinking together in the sunlight.
The mafia empire was dead. But in its ashes, we had finally built a home.
