Chapter 7 - THE DEED TO THE MANOR
"What does it say?" Rose asked, stepping forward, her hands still clutching her mother's.
Dominic held up the yellowed, fragile piece of paper. It wasn't just a letter. It had official state seals stamped across the bottom.
"It's the original deed to the Moretti family estate," Dominic explained, his voice thick with disbelief. "The one my father supposedly lost in a bad gamble before he died."
Lydia, struggling against her zip-ties on the wet asphalt, let out a wretched scream. "No! You gave that to me!"
Margaret stood taller, pulling her faded blue coat tightly around her shoulders.
"Enzo gave it to me," Margaret said firmly, referring to Dominic's late father. "He knew Lydia was plotting against him. He knew she was stealing from the family accounts. Before the car crash, Enzo signed the estate over to me to hold in a blind trust for Rose and Dominic."
I gasped.
Lydia hadn't just stolen Rose. She had stolen Margaret's identity to gain control of the one thing Enzo had tried to protect.
"When Lydia took you from me, Rose," Margaret continued, tears returning to her eyes, "she tore apart my house looking for this deed. She couldn't sell the main estate or leverage it with the Russians without it. But she never found it."
"Where was it?" I asked, amazed.
"Sewn into the lining of the winter coat I left behind," Margaret smiled faintly. "When Daniel finally found me six months ago, I knew it was time to move it. I sewed it into the bridal veil."
Dominic stared at the paper. This single document meant Lydia had never legally owned the Moretti empire. Every deal she made, every account she drained, was fraudulent.
"You protected our home for twenty-four years," Dominic said to Margaret, his voice filled with a reverence I had never heard him use.
He turned back to the arriving police cruisers. His own security team had already corralled the corrupt officers on Lydia's payroll.
As they dragged Lydia away—screaming and cursing her family—Dominic walked over to Daniel.
"You brought Margaret back," Dominic said. "You helped expose Lydia. But you still married Rose under blackmail."
Daniel lowered his head. "I'll sign the annulment papers tonight. I just wanted my sister and my niece to be safe. I never wanted Rose's money."
Rose stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Daniel's cheek.
"You gave me my mother back, Daniel," Rose whispered. "I forgive you."
Daniel broke down, weeping quietly as the burden of three years of terror finally lifted from his shoulders.
The nightmare was over.
We drove back to the estate as the sun began to rise over Chicago, painting the sky in brilliant strokes of pink and gold.
When we walked through the heavy front doors, the massive crystal chandelier in the foyer was still glowing from the ruined wedding reception.
But the house didn't feel cold anymore.
Elena was sitting on the grand staircase, holding little Sofia. When Sofia saw Dominic, she reached out her chubby little arms.
"Daddy!"
Dominic caught her, lifting her high into the air. He spun her around, his deep laughter echoing off the marble walls. It was a sound this house had never heard.
Margaret and Rose sat on the sofa, simply holding hands, making up for twenty-four years of lost time in silence.
I stood near the door, my apron long discarded, feeling like I had just awoken from a bizarre dream.
I turned to slip out the side door, heading toward the staff quarters to pack my things. Lydia had fired me, and even though she was gone, I was still just a maid.
"Where do you think you're going?"
I stopped. Dominic was standing at the end of the hallway, holding Sofia on his hip.
"To pack, sir," I said softly. "My shift is over."
"Your shift ended the moment you stood up to Lydia," Dominic said. He walked toward me. "I told you yesterday that you still had your job. I was wrong."
My heart sank.
"Nora," he said, pulling a heavy envelope from his jacket. "My aunt owed Margaret twenty-four years of back pay for the estate. But Margaret insisted on splitting the first installment with the woman who brought her into the ballroom."
He handed me the envelope. It was thick.
"There's enough in there to pay for Maya's nursing school entirely. And buy your mother a new car."
I covered my mouth, tears instantly spilling over. "Mr. Moretti, I can't take this."
"You can, and you will," Dominic smiled gently. "Because you're not a maid anymore. I need an executive assistant for the family trust. Someone who isn't afraid of me. Or anyone else."
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I looked at the powerful, dangerous man holding a toddler in his arms.
"I start Monday," I whispered.
