Chapter 9 - THE HAPPY ENDING
The call dropped.
I stood by the SUV, staring at my phone.
Matteo noticed my face.
“What is it?”
“Sloane,” I said. “She said someone opened the cellar.”
Matteo’s face instantly darkened.
He pulled his radio.
“Estate command. Status on the wine cellar.”
A heavy beat of static.
Then, the security chief’s voice came through, sounding tense.
“Boss. We have a situation. Mrs. DeLuca went down there.”
Matteo froze.
“My grandmother?”
“Yes, sir. She demanded the keys. We couldn't stop her.”
Matteo didn't hesitate.
“Get in the car.”
The drive back to Lake Forest was a blur of flashing trees and heavy rain.
In the back seat, Leo had fallen asleep with his head on his father’s chest.
Antonio stroked his son’s hair, looking out the window at the life he had abandoned to keep his child safe.
I watched them, a profound sense of peace settling in my chest despite the anxiety about Sloane.
Leo had his dad back.
We pulled through the massive iron gates of the DeLuca estate.
The storm was beginning to break, the first hints of dawn turning the sky a bruised purple.
We rushed into the mansion.
The foyer was quiet.
The thirty-one guests had been sent home hours ago.
Matteo led us straight down the marble stairs to the lower level.
The heavy oak door to the wine cellar was wide open.
Inside, sitting on a wooden stool surrounded by thousands of bottles of vintage wine, was Rose DeLuca.
She had her cane resting across her lap.
Standing against the far wall, looking absolutely terrified, was Sloane.
Or Rebecca. Or whoever she really was.
Rose looked up as we entered.
She didn't look surprised to see Antonio alive.
She just gave him a slow, sad smile.
“Hello, Arthur,” Rose said softly, using his childhood name.
Antonio smiled back, tears in his eyes.
“Hello, Nonna.”
Sloane stared at Antonio as if she were looking at a ghost.
She pressed her hands against the stone wall, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
“Antonio? You’re… you’re dead.”
“No thanks to you,” Antonio said coldly.
Sloane shook her head, tears spilling over her dark burgundy lipstick.
“I didn't mean for the crash to happen! I just wanted the money!”
“You wanted to sell my son to your father,” Antonio corrected, his voice devoid of any warmth.
Matteo stepped forward.
He looked at Sloane with utter disgust.
“You called my grandmother an old woman who was losing her mind. You tried to frame Grace for an accident you caused. You kidnapped a child.”
Sloane fell to her knees.
“Matteo, please. I have nothing. Daniel took everything.”
“Daniel is dead,” Matteo said flatly.
Sloane stopped crying.
She stared at him, shock washing over her face.
“What?”
“The Outfit collected his debt,” Matteo said. “And you no longer exist in this house.”
He looked at his security guards.
“Pack her things. Drive her to the city limits. If she ever comes within fifty miles of my family again, she won't make it to a train station.”
Sloane didn't fight.
She didn't scream.
She realized, finally, that she had lost the game.
She stood up slowly, her expensive champagne gown stained and ruined.
She looked at Grace, who was standing quietly near the doorway.
“Mom,” Sloane whispered.
Grace looked at the daughter who had despised her.
The daughter who had traded love for greed.
Grace’s face was serene.
“Goodbye, Rebecca,” Grace said.
She turned her back.
Security escorted Sloane up the stairs.
The heavy silence of the cellar felt lighter once she was gone.
Rose stood up slowly, leaning on her cane.
She walked over to me.
She reached out and took my hand in her frail, warm ones.
“You told me the truth, Emily,” Rose said. “You saw the brake, and you spoke up when it was easier to stay quiet.”
“I just wanted you to be safe, Mrs. DeLuca.”
Rose smiled.
“And you kept my great-grandson safe.”
She looked at Matteo.
“She doesn't change sheets anymore, Matteo.”
Matteo looked at me.
His dark eyes were soft, completely stripped of the mafia boss persona.
“No, she doesn't.”
He stepped closer to me.
“Emily, you are the reason my brother is standing here. You are the reason Leo is alive. You aren't a maid in this house.”
“I need a job,” I whispered.
Matteo smiled.
“You have one. If you want it. Head of pediatric care for the DeLuca family. Whatever you need to finish your nursing degree, I will pay for it. You will never have to worry about your brother’s school again.”
My breath caught.
Tears blurred my vision again, but this time, they were happy tears.
I looked at Leo, who was waking up in his father’s arms.
Leo rubbed his eyes and looked at me.
“Em?”
I walked over and kissed his forehead.
“I’m right here, buddy. I’m not going anywhere.”
Antonio put his hand on my shoulder.
“Thank you, Emily. For everything.”
We walked upstairs together.
The sun was finally rising over Lake Forest, painting the massive windows in shades of gold and pink.
Grace was in the kitchen, making a pot of tea.
She looked peaceful.
Her dignity restored.
Her nightmare over.
I sat at the kitchen island, drinking tea with the woman I admired so much.
Upstairs, Antonio was putting Leo into a real bed, in a room that belonged to him.
The boy was safe.
May you like
He was loved.
He was finally home.
