Chapter 10 - Dawn on the Estate
The morning sun broke over the Philadelphia hills, washing the Moretti estate in a pale, cold amber light. I stood in the grand dining room, finishing the final touches on the mahogany table where the white floral centerpieces still sat untouched from the night before. The crystal chandeliers caught the morning rays, throwing tiny prisms of light across the walls.
The heavy oak doors swung open, and Luca walked in. He looked tired, the dark circles beneath his eyes evidence of a sleepless night, but his posture was upright, his shoulders squared as if a massive weight had finally been lifted from his frame. He wore his dark three-piece suit, the black shirt open at the collar without a tie.
"Emma," he said, stopping near the entrance where Sal had stood just the night before holding his cardboard box.
I turned, resting my cloth on the edge of the table. "Good morning, Mr. Moretti."
"Call me Luca," he said softly, walking closer. "Sal's back in the main garage. He's already inspecting the engine on the black sedan. Told me he wasn't about to let some rookie driver touch his transmission."
A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. "I'm glad he's staying."
"He's not just staying," Luca replied, his dark eyes meeting mine with a steady, searching intensity. "I asked him to take over estate management. Someone needs to keep an eye on the books and the grounds, and Sal knows every inch of this place better than anyone." He paused, stepping closer until only a few feet separated us. "And as for you... I know Vanessa threatened you about your brother's tuition. That's been taken care of. Fully paid through his final semester at Penn State. No strings attached."
I blinked, a sudden rush of heat pricking behind my eyelids. "You didn't have to do that."
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"I did," Luca said quietly. "You stood up for an old man when nobody else in this room had the spine to do it. You saved what was left of my family." He reached out, his hand hesitating for a fraction of a second before gently resting over mine on the edge of the table. His skin was warm, his touch steady and deliberate. "There's a lot of rebuilding to do here, Emma. The house is quiet, and the wedding is canceled. But for the first time in years, things actually feel real."
Out in the drive, the low, steady rumble of the sedan engine hummed to life through the open French doors—a familiar, grounding sound that signaled the start of something honest. I left my hand beneath his, looking out toward the sunlit hills as the heavy chapter of deception finally closed behind us.
