**“SHE STOPPED BEING YOUR GRANDMOTHER WHEN YOUR MOTHER DIED,” THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE TOLD HIS 10-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER—BUT WHEN I BROUGHT THE ELDERLY WOMAN INTO HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER CARRYING A HOMEMADE PEACH COBBLER, LUCA MORETTI STOOD UP AND ASKED, “WHY HAS MY LITTLE GIRL BEEN CRYING FOR HER GRANDMA EVERY NIGHT?”**

The mansion felt entirely different that morning.

It was as if a heavy, suffocating curtain had been pulled back, letting the sunlight pour through the massive windows. The oppressive silence that had haunted the halls for weeks was replaced by the sound of a family coming back to life.

I walked into the kitchen, pinning the silver dove to my uniform collar.

Eleanor was standing at the stove, wearing one of Luca’s oversized gray sweaters, flipping pancakes. Emma was sitting on the counter, her legs kicking happily, holding the tape-repaired locket in her hands.

“Claire!” Emma cheered when she saw me. “Grandma is making chocolate chip pancakes!”

“I can see that,” I smiled, wiping the last tears from my eyes.

Eleanor looked over her shoulder and spotted the silver pin on my collar. Her eyes softened with recognition, but she didn’t say anything. She just gave me a warm, knowing smile.

Suddenly, the heavy kitchen doors swung open.

Luca walked in, dressed in a casual black t-shirt and jeans. He looked rested. The dark circles under his eyes seemed lighter.

“Smells good in here,” he said, leaning against the counter next to Emma.

“Daddy, look!” Emma held up the locket. “Grandma helped me tape the picture back inside. It’s a little crooked, but it’s still Mommy.”

Luca’s smile faltered for just a second, a flash of pain crossing his face, but he quickly replaced it with a warm grin. “It looks perfect, baby.”

He kissed her forehead and turned to Eleanor.

“I have a crew coming in an hour,” Luca said. “They’re going to move the cedar chest back into my study. And I’ve ordered a security system installed in the guest house. Nobody touches Nora’s things ever again.”

Eleanor nodded in approval. “Good.”

Luca hesitated for a moment. He looked at Eleanor, then at me.

“I also made some phone calls this morning,” he said quietly. “Vanessa’s father called me at 6:00 AM, begging for a meeting. He wanted to apologize. He said he had no idea what Vivian and Vanessa were doing.”

Eleanor stopped flipping the pancakes. “What did you tell him?”

Luca’s eyes grew cold. “I told him that if any member of his family steps foot in Chicago again, I won’t be sending a delivery truck to their house. I’ll be sending my men.”

A shiver ran down my spine, reminding me exactly who Luca Moretti was. He might be a loving father in this kitchen, but out in the city, he was a king who ruled with an iron fist.

“They’re leaving for Miami tonight,” Luca finished, his tone final. “They are out of our lives.”

Emma looked up from her locket. “Does that mean I never have to see Vanessa again?”

“Never again, sweetheart,” Luca promised.

Emma beamed. “Good. She smelled like old perfume anyway.”

We all laughed, the sound breaking the last remaining tension in the room.

But just as we were sitting down at the massive kitchen island to eat, the front doorbell rang.

It was a sharp, urgent sound.

Luca frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone. He nodded to me, and I hurried down the hallway to the grand entrance.

I opened the heavy oak door.

Standing on the porch was a tall man in a tailored suit, holding a leather briefcase. He looked nervous, clutching the handle tightly with both hands.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m looking for Luca Moretti,” the man said, clearing his throat. “My name is David Vance. I’m an attorney. I was Nora Moretti’s private counsel.”

I blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Moretti is having breakfast with his family. Can this wait?”

“No,” the lawyer said firmly. “I was explicitly instructed by Nora, three years ago, to deliver this briefcase to Luca exactly one week before Emma’s eleventh birthday.”