Chapter 10 - THE MUSIC BOX
I turned toward the doorway, my breath catching in my throat.
The woman standing there was fragile, her frame thin beneath a soft cream-colored sweater. Her dark hair was streaked with silver, and her hands trembled slightly as she clutched the doorframe.
But her eyes—large, warm, and deeply gentle—were exactly like Emma’s.
It was Elena Moretti.
She looked around the study, her gaze frantic and unsure, until her eyes locked onto the small wooden music box in Luca’s hands.
The melody tinkled softly through the quiet room.
A choked sob escaped Elena’s lips. "You kept it."
Luca’s eyes filled with tears. He walked slowly toward her, as if approaching a frightened bird, afraid any sudden movement would make her fly away.
"I kept everything, El," Luca whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I kept it all."
Elena reached out, her shaking fingers brushing against his bruised cheek. "They told me you didn't want me anymore. The doctors... they said you moved on. They said I was broken."
"They lied," Luca wept, pulling her gently into his chest, burying his face in her hair. "My father lied. Vanessa lied. I never stopped looking for a way to bring you back. I’m so sorry I couldn't protect you."
I stood in the corner, tears streaming down my own face, witnessing a love that had survived five years of hell, manipulation, and forced separation.
Elena pulled back slightly, looking up at him with desperate hope.
"My baby?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Where is my baby?"
Luca smiled, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. "She's right down the hall. And she has been waiting for you."
I quietly slipped out of the study to give them privacy.
I walked back to the living room, where Emma was still playing with the kittens on the rug.
"Miss Rachel?" Emma asked, looking up as I entered. "Why are you crying? Are you sad?"
I smiled brightly, wiping my cheeks. "No, sweetie. I'm not sad at all. I'm actually the happiest I've been in a very long time."
I knelt down beside her. "Emma, there's someone very special here to see you."
Emma tilted her head, confused. "Who?"
Before I could answer, soft footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Emma looked toward the door.
When she saw Elena standing there, supported by Luca, the little girl froze.
Emma was only five when the crash happened. The memories were faded, distorted by time and grief. But a child never forgets the feeling of their mother.
Elena dropped to her knees on the expensive rug, completely ignoring the kittens scattering around her. She held out her arms, tears pouring down her face.
"My beautiful girl," Elena sobbed. "My perfect, beautiful girl."
Emma didn't hesitate. She scrambled across the floor and threw herself into her mother's arms.
The sound of their crying filled the house—a loud, messy, agonizingly beautiful sound of a family finally being stitched back together.
I backed out of the room, my heart swelling with so much emotion I thought it might burst.
I walked out to the grand back terrace, letting the cool spring breeze dry the tears on my face.
The nightmare was over.
The bad guys were in jail. The family was whole. And I had a secure, safe life ahead of me.
But as I leaned against the stone railing, looking out over the blooming gardens, a strange, hollow ache settled in my chest.
I had spent the last two days running on adrenaline, fighting for Luca and Emma. I had grown to love that little girl like my own. And, if I was being entirely honest with myself, I had grown to care for Luca far more deeply than an employee should.
But he was a married man. A fiercely loyal husband who had just gotten his wife back.
My role here was finished.
"Beautiful day, isn't it?"
I jumped, spinning around.
Marco was standing in the doorway, leaning heavily on a cane, his arm in a sling. He looked battered, but there was a light in his eyes that hadn't been there at the airstrip.
"Marco!" I gasped, rushing over. "You shouldn't be out of the hospital!"
"I checked myself out," he grunted, limping over to the railing beside me. "Hospital food is terrible. Besides, I wanted to see my sister-in-law."
"They're inside," I smiled. "It's... it's a beautiful reunion."
Marco nodded, staring out at the garden. "Luca deserves this. He earned his peace."
He turned his head and looked at me, his sharp, perceptive eyes studying my face.
"You look like you're saying goodbye," Marco observed quietly.
I looked down at my hands. "They have their family back, Marco. Emma has her mother. They don't need a governess. They need time alone to heal."
"Maybe," Marco agreed softly. "But what do you need, Rachel?"
The question caught me off guard.
"I need to take care of my mother," I answered automatically.
Marco chuckled, a raspy sound. "Your mother is being cared for by the best private doctors in the state, paid in full by the Moretti trust for the rest of her life. You saved the heir to the throne. You are set for life, kid."
He reached into his good pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
"Which is why I brought you this," Marco said, holding it out to me.
I frowned, taking the box. "What is it?"
"A thank you," Marco replied.
I opened the lid.
Resting on the black velvet wasn't a piece of jewelry.
May you like
It was a heavy, antique brass key.
"My father owned a small, legitimate bookshop in Florence, Italy," Marco explained, his voice softening. "He left it to me. But I'm a gangster, Rachel. I don't read."
