Chapter 5 - A Sister in the Scullery UniformAt 7:00 AM, the cold morning sun broke through the clouds over Lake Michigan, painting the limestone facade of the Moretti mansion in pale ribbons of rose and gold.
Inside the grand dining hall, the shattered wineglasses had been cleared, the spilled port scrubbed away, and the thirty-foot mahogany table covered with fresh, crisp white linen.
Sitting at the center of the table was my younger brother, Toby.
Toby was nineteen, wearing a clean navy blazer that Mrs. Carter had purchased for him that morning, his eyes wide with stunned disbelief as he ate a stack of blueberry pancakes topped with whipped cream, completely overwhelmed by the armed guards and crystal chandeliers.
“Emily... I mean, Maria,” Toby whispered, looking at me with awe. “The man in the black coat paid off my entire college tuition. He bought our apartment building on 18th Street. He said we never have to pay rent again.”
I smiled through my tears, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.
“He’s our brother, Toby. A man who keeps his word.”
The double oak doors swung open.
Luca walked into the dining hall.
He had showered and changed into an open-collared navy cashmere sweater and tailored charcoal slacks, looking relaxed, powerful, and breathtakingly handsome.
Behind him walked Frank Moretti, dressed in his finest Sunday suit, looking humbled, peaceful, and whole.
Luca walked straight to where I sat, stopping beside my chair.
He reached into his pocket and produced an embossed cream envelope, sliding it across the table toward me.
“What is this, Luca?” I asked softly.
“Open it, Maria,” he smiled gently.
I opened the envelope.
Inside lay an official decree from the Cook County Probate Court, stamped with the golden seal of the State of Illinois:
RESTITUTION OF LINEAGE AND ESTATE: MARIA ANTONIA MORETTI.
Attached to the decree was a stock certificate transferring fifty percent of the Moretti Maritime Corporation into my name, alongside the deed to a three-story brick townhouse in Lincoln Park overlooking the gardens.
My breath caught in my throat. Tears of pure, radiant happiness spilled over my lashes, hot against my cheeks.
“Luca... no... fifty percent of the shipping lines? That’s worth hundreds of millions of dollars!”
“Our father died so you could live, Maria,” Luca said, his deep baritone thick with profound, unwavering sincerity. “You are the daughter of Antonio Moretti. You do not ask for what is yours; you take your seat at the head of the table.”
Frank Moretti stepped forward, resting his hand on my shoulder, his weathered face glowing with deep, grandfatherly pride.
“Your mother would be proud of you today, child,” Frank whispered, tears in his eyes. “She saved our family's honor.”
Luca looked across the table at Toby, offering a warm, genuine smile.
“And as for you, Toby,” Luca added, “your enrollment at the University of Chicago’s engineering program is fully funded under the Moretti Educational Trust. You will never worry about a textbook, a lab fee, or a tuition bill again.”
Toby let out a joyful cheer, throwing his arms around his sister, while Mrs. Carter and the kitchen staff clapped with tears of pure joy from the archway.
I looked into Luca’s dark, soulful eyes—eyes that had seen so much violence and betrayal, yet looked at me with an ocean of pure, protective warmth.
“Thank you, Luca,” I whispered, wiping a tear from my cheek. “For bringing us home.”
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Luca smiled—a wide, breathtaking smile that lit up his rugged face—and reached over, his warm fingers closing over mine.
“We’re just getting started, Maria.”
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