Chapter 14 - Sunday Dinner on Prairie AvenueOn the evening before our wedding, our family gathered in the private dining room of the estate for a quiet, intimate celebration.
There were no bodyguards checking identification at the door. No armed sentries watching from the terrace.
The people gathered around the table were the true, honorable foundation of our new life:
Teresa Moretti, sitting tall and proud in her favorite dark blue cardigan, her face glowing with serene peace.
Sophie, sitting beside her grandmother, wearing a pretty navy dress, laughing as she poured sparkling cider into everyone’s glasses.
My mother, looking sharp in her bespoke dress, sitting beside Dante and Mrs. Carter.
And at the head of the table sat Luca Moretti, looking more relaxed and handsome than I had ever seen him.
At eight o'clock, Teresa tapped her wine glass with her silver dessert spoon.
The room fell into an eager, affectionate hush.
The elderly matriarch stood up slowly, her hands resting flat on the table, looking around at her children with eyes full of deep, unshed tears of joy.
“Forty years ago,” Teresa began, her voice carrying clearly to every soul in the vaulted room, “my husband Antonio told me that an empire is not measured by the ships in the harbor, but by the love in the house.”
She looked directly at me, her smile radiant and full of love.
“Hannah Collins brought the truth back to this table. She reminded us that a family that listens to each other cannot be broken by any lie, any contract, or any storm.”
She raised her glass high into the air.
“To our family. Whole. Safe. And home.”
Every single person in the room stood to their feet, raising their glasses in a joyous, heartfelt cheer:
May you like
“To our family! Viva la famiglia!”
Luca pulled me gently to my feet, his arms wrapping around me, his lips meeting mine in a tender, lingering kiss that sealed our family's redemption forever.
