Chapter 11 - THE BRACELET ON THE BABY'S WRIST
Six months later.
The spring sun shone brightly over the manicured gardens of the Moretti estate.
The massive white tents on the lawn weren't for an engagement party this time.
They were for a christening.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the master suite, smoothing down the skirt of my elegant, tailored navy blue dress. My hair was professionally styled, and around my neck rested the heavy silver Moretti rosary.
I wasn't a maid anymore.
I was Anna Moretti. The mother of the heir.
And looking at my reflection, I hardly recognized the terrified, exhausted girl who had dropped a tray of wine on the dining room floor a year ago.
The bedroom door opened, and Luca walked in.
He was wearing a bespoke black suit, looking impossibly sharp and imposing, but his eyes were entirely warm.
In his arms, he was holding six-month-old Tommy, who was dressed in a ridiculously adorable miniature tuxedo.
“He’s chewing on my lapel again,” Luca noted dryly, though he made no move to stop the baby from drooling on his thousand-dollar suit.
I laughed, taking my son from him and wiping the baby’s chin.
“You spoil him, Luca.”
“He is a Moretti. He is supposed to be spoiled.”
Luca reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet jeweler’s box.
“I have something for him,” Luca said. “Before we go down to the guests.”
He opened the box.
Inside was a tiny, solid gold baby bracelet.
Engraved on the polished surface was a single phrase: Sempre Famiglia.
Always Family.
Luca gently took Tommy’s chubby little wrist and clasped the gold bracelet around it.
“There,” Luca smiled. “Now it’s official.”
I looked up at Luca, my heart swelling with an affection I hadn't expected to feel.
We had spent the last six months raising Tommy together. Luca had practically moved his entire base of operations into the mansion just so he wouldn't miss a single milestone. He was the one who woke up at 3:00 AM when Tommy had a fever. He was the one who read him Italian bedtime stories until he fell asleep.
“You’re a good father to him, Luca,” I said softly.
Luca’s hand paused on the baby’s arm. He looked up, his green eyes locking onto mine.
“I’m just his uncle, Anna.”
“You are the man who is raising him,” I corrected gently. “Michael gave him life. But you gave him a future.”
Luca stepped closer. The air between us suddenly felt charged, thick with an unspoken shift in our dynamic that had been slowly building over the long winter months.
“Anna,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, husky register. “I promised Michael I would protect you. But over the last six months, protecting you hasn't been a duty.”
He reached out, his thumb gently brushing across my cheek.
“It’s been a privilege.”
My breath caught in my throat.
“Luca...”
“I know it’s too soon,” he said quickly, pulling his hand back slightly. “I know you are still mourning Michael. And I will never try to replace my brother in your heart.”
He looked down at Tommy, who was happily babbling, trying to put the gold bracelet in his mouth.
“But I want you to stay here, Anna. Not just because of the boy. Because of you. I want you by my side.”
I looked into the eyes of the most feared man in Chicago, and I saw nothing but absolute devotion.
I didn't step away.
Instead, I closed the distance between us, resting my free hand flat against the solid expanse of his chest.
“I’m not going anywhere, Luca,” I whispered.
Luca let out a breath, a genuine, breathtaking smile breaking across his face.
He leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead, then kissed Tommy’s cheek.
“Come on,” Luca said, offering me his arm. “Our guests are waiting.”
I took his arm, holding my son tightly against my chest.
We walked out of the master suite, down the grand staircase, and out into the bright spring sunshine.
The courtyard was filled with family friends, loyal capos, and politicians.
As we stepped out onto the patio, the crowd fell completely silent, turning to look at us.
They weren't looking at a mafia boss and a pregnant maid anymore.
They were looking at the undisputed king of Chicago, the woman who stood as his equal, and the young heir who secured their legacy.
Luca placed his hand firmly on the small of my back, guiding me forward with unwavering pride.
We walked down the stone path toward the blooming magnolia trees.
The shadows of the past were gone.
The monster who had tried to destroy us was rotting in a cell.
And as Tommy reached out his tiny hand, his gold bracelet catching the sunlight, he grabbed Luca’s finger and laughed aloud.
May you like
We were a family.
And nobody would ever break us again.
