Chapter 10 - THE NEW FOUNDATION
I stared at Luca, my heart skipping a beat.
“Sir?” I whispered, confusion washing over me. “Are you firing me?”
Luca let out a short, genuine laugh. It was the first time I had heard him truly laugh since I started working at the estate. The sound completely transformed his face, chasing away the shadows of his mafia title.
“Claire, after what you and your father did for this family, you couldn't be fired if you burned the mansion down.”
He didn't let go of my hand.
“I want you to manage the Moretti Family Charitable Trust,” Luca said, his dark eyes locking onto mine with absolute sincerity. “We fund hospitals, orphanages, and community outreach. I need someone with absolute integrity. Someone who isn't afraid to stand up to bullies. Someone who knows the value of the things other people throw away.”
I was stunned.
A management position. A real career. Enough salary to comfortably retire my father and buy back his house.
“I... I don't have a degree in finance, Mr. Moretti,” I stammered.
“You have a degree in loyalty,” Luca countered smoothly. “I can hire accountants to do the math. I need you to lead.”
Teresa walked over, beaming through her remaining tears. She placed her warm hands over ours.
“Say yes, sweetheart,” Teresa urged gently. “Please. You belong with us.”
I looked at my father. He gave me a proud, encouraging nod.
“Yes,” I smiled, tears welling in my eyes. “I would be honored, Luca.”
He smiled, squeezing my hand once before letting go.
The next three months moved with breathtaking speed.
The fallout from the Bellini arrests dominated the Chicago news. Arthur and Vanessa faced federal racketeering, kidnapping, and extortion charges. Without their leadership, the Bellini syndicate crumbled, absorbed or dismantled by Luca’s legitimate shipping operations.
But inside the Moretti estate, the transformation was far more profound.
The heavy, oppressive atmosphere that Vanessa had cultivated was scrubbed away. The dark curtains were opened, letting sunlight pour into the hallways.
Leo blossomed.
Freed from the terrifying isolation of the clock tower, he proved to be a brilliant, energetic little boy. He had his father's quiet intelligence and Luca's stubborn streak. He spent his afternoons playing in the gardens with Teresa, who seemed to age backward with the joy of having a child in the house again.
And my father became a permanent fixture at the estate.
Luca had refused to let him return to his small, drafty house. He moved my father into a beautiful, fully renovated guest cottage on the property, complete with a state-of-the-art woodworking shop.
Which was exactly where my father and I were standing on a crisp Saturday morning.
The smell of fresh pine and wood glue filled the bright workshop.
Resting on two large sawhorses in the center of the room was the old kitchen doorframe.
My father had spent the last six weeks painstakingly restoring it. He had cleaned the broken edges, matched the grain perfectly, and used a specialized resin to seal the crack down the middle without erasing a single one of Antonio’s pencil marks.
“It’s beautiful, Dad,” I said, running my hand over the smooth, polished wood.
“Wood always tells a story, Claire,” my father said, wiping his hands on a rag. “You just have to know how to read the scars. This frame is stronger now because of where it broke.”
The shop door opened, and Luca walked in.
He was wearing jeans and a simple black sweater, carrying a tray with three mugs of coffee. He looked completely at peace.
“Is it ready?” Luca asked, handing me a mug.
My father nodded proudly. “It is. The structural integrity is completely restored. We can install it in the main hallway this afternoon.”
Luca looked at the doorframe. His eyes traced the little pencil marks. The history of his childhood, and the hidden history of the brother he loved.
He reached out and traced the line that read: FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL.
“Thomas,” Luca said quietly, without looking up. “Did Michael ever talk about what he wanted for Leo? When he grew up?”
My father leaned against the workbench.
“He just wanted him to be free, Luca. He wanted him to grow up in a house where he didn't have to be afraid.”
Luca nodded slowly.
He turned to me. The intensity in his dark eyes made my breath catch, just like it did every time he looked at me.
“Claire, would you walk with me for a minute?” Luca asked.
I set my coffee mug down. “Of course.”
We left the workshop and walked out into the massive, manicured gardens behind the estate. The autumn air was crisp, the leaves turning brilliant shades of gold and red.
We walked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the crunch of gravel beneath our shoes.
Finally, Luca stopped near the large stone fountain at the center of the garden.
He turned to face me.
“I realized something this morning,” Luca said, his voice quiet but incredibly steady.
“What is that?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself against the chill.
“For the last ten years, I’ve been trying to build an empire,” Luca said, looking out over the sprawling estate. “I thought if I made the family strong enough, powerful enough, nobody could ever hurt us again.”
He looked back at me.
“But Vanessa almost destroyed this family from the inside. And I let her, because I thought a business merger was more important than paying attention to who she really was.”
I didn't say anything. I just listened.
Luca stepped closer.
“You didn't care about the empire, Claire. You didn't care about the money or the title. You stood in a room full of powerful people, bleeding from your hand, and you fought for a piece of wood because you knew it mattered to my mother.”
He reached out and gently took my right hand. The bandages were gone, leaving only a faint, silver scar across my palm.
He traced the scar with his thumb.
“You rebuilt my family,” Luca whispered.
My heart hammered in my chest.
“I didn't do it alone,” I replied softly.
“No,” Luca smiled. “But you started it.”
He didn't pull out a ring. He didn't make a grand, dramatic declaration.
He just leaned in and kissed me.
It was warm, grounding, and completely undeniable. All the unspoken tension that had been building between us since the night in the library finally broke, replaced by a quiet, absolute certainty.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine.
“Stay with me, Claire,” Luca whispered. “Build something real with me.”
May you like
I smiled, my heart entirely full.
“I’m a carpenter's daughter,” I answered. “I know how to build things to last.”
