Chapter 10 - Bloodlines of the Atlantic BasinTwo weeks later, on a crisp, sunlit Saturday afternoon, Alexander, Rose, and Mia brought fresh white calla lilies to the historic cemetery on the bluffs overlooking Long Island Sound.
The cemetery was quiet, peaceful, and bathed in golden autumn light that filtered through the ancient oak trees.
They walked down a secluded gravel path until we reached a beautiful, shaded plot surrounded by blooming white hydrangeas and fragrant rosemary bushes.
Standing beneath a towering granite cross was the headstone of Alexander’s father, Don Antonio Moretti:
Antonio Moretti (1945–2019) — Sovereign of the Sea, A Father of Honor.
Fresh bouquets of white calla lilies, red roses, and fragrant sweet basil rested at the base of the stone.
Alexander knelt beside his father’s headstone, resting his hand on the carved granite, his dark eyes bright with tears of profound, eternal peace.
“We brought the truth home, Dad,” Alexander whispered softly through his tears. “The traitors are broken. The docks are clean. The chair is in the mud forever.”
Rose stepped forward, kneeling beside him on the gravel path, resting her hand respectfully on the stone.
“Your son carries your honor, Don Antonio,” Rose said softly, her voice carrying clearly across the quiet churchyard. “He is the sovereign of our fleet. In this house, your courage will never be forgotten.”
Mia knelt beside them, placing a small copper hairpin beside the lilies on the stone—the identical tool she had used to wake the Iron Monarch from the dark.
“Thank you, Don Antonio,” Mia whispered. “We will protect the family forever.”
Alexander stood up, pulling Rose and Mia into his arms, wrapping his heavy wool overcoat around both of them, shielding them from the ocean wind.
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He reached into his pocket and produced an antique silver pocket watch that had belonged to his grandfather, sliding the chain into Mia’s palm.
“Our family is whole, Rose. The water will never rise above our heads.”
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