Chapter 8 - [THE GHOST FROM THE PAST]
My mother smiled, her eyes brimming with tears.
I stood up slowly, my legs trembling beneath me. For ten years, I had grieved her. I had stood by an empty grave and cried until I had nothing left.
“Claire,” she whispered, stepping forward and opening her arms.
I ran to her. We collided in the center of the room, and I buried my face in her shoulder, inhaling the faint, familiar scent of lavender and old paper. It was real. She was real.
“I’m so sorry, my brave girl,” she murmured, kissing the top of my head. “I had to stay away. To keep you safe.”
“I don’t understand,” I cried, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Vanessa said you were sending files to the FBI. That’s why Vincenzo helped you disappear.”
My mother nodded, glancing at Rosa, who was watching us with a gentle, knowing smile.
“Vincenzo and Rosa protected me,” my mother explained. “When I found out the Bellinis were corrupting the Moretti family from the inside, they knew Vanessa’s father would kill me. They staged the crash. But I didn't just hide. I went to work.”
Agent Harris stepped forward, gesturing to his men. “Take them.”
The agents moved in, slapping handcuffs on a weeping Vanessa and a stunned Matteo.
“You can’t do this!” Matteo shouted as an agent forced his arms behind his back. “I am a Moretti! This is my house!”
“Not anymore,” Dante said, stepping into his brother’s line of sight. “You traded loyalty for greed. Enjoy federal prison, little brother.”
Matteo looked at me, desperation in his eyes. “Claire, please. You’re my wife. Tell them I had nothing to do with Vanessa’s plans!”
I looked at the man who had humiliated me, cheated on me, and tried to strip me of my freedom.
“You told me to apologize to her,” I said quietly. “You should have been apologizing to me.”
I turned my back on him as they dragged him out the front door.
The remaining relatives were quietly escorted out by the agents, leaving only me, my mother, Rosa, Dante, and little Leo in the grand dining room.
My mother walked over to Rosa and took the old woman’s frail hands in hers. “Thank you, Rosa. For watching over my daughter.”
“She watched over me, Elena,” Rosa corrected softly. “She is the strongest woman I know.”
Dante walked over, picking up the steel briefcase. “The Bellini syndicate is finished. The feds have everything they need.”
“What happens now?” I asked, holding Leo tightly against my side.
Dante looked at me, then handed me a heavy, brass key.
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“Now,” Dante said, “you pack your bags, Claire. It’s time for you to see your vineyard.”
TITLE: THE TUSCAN SUNRISE
