Chapter 9 - The New Dawn
Six months later, spring returned to Chicago.
The Montgomery-Moretti Foundation held its annual charity gala at the Art Institute of Chicago. The grand hall was filled with hundreds of dignitaries, foreign ambassadors, and the elite families of the syndicate alliance.
I arrived at eight o'clock, stepping out of my vehicle into a flurry of camera flashes.
I wore an emerald-green silk evening gown—the exact shade of the gown I had purchased a year earlier for Ethan Walker’s wedding. Around my neck hung a delicate strand of diamonds, and on my left wrist rested Eleanor Moretti’s antique emerald-and-diamond cuff.
I wore it with pride. Not because I was a mafia wife, but because Don Leonardo and Francesca had formally transferred the family’s philanthropic trust into my name alone. I had earned the right to wear it; I hadn't simply married into it.
"Claire!"
Ethan Walker and his wife, Julianna, walked over to greet me, both smiling warmly. Ethan kissed both of my cheeks with deep reverence.
"You look breathtaking, Claire," Julianna said, gently touching my arm. "And the terminal project you launched last month has already created two thousand jobs in the district. My father hasn't stopped praising you."
"Your father has been an incredible partner, Ethan," I replied, raising my champagne flute. "To new beginnings."
"To new beginnings," Ethan echoed, his expression turning slightly solemn. "Have you... have you heard from him?"
We both knew who 'him' was.
"No," I answered honestly. "Not in months."
"He sold his shares in the hotel group last week," Ethan said quietly. "My father told me Adrian left Chicago permanently. He bought an old vineyard in the hills outside Florence. Completely isolated. He doesn't take visitors, doesn't answer the syndicate council, doesn't speak to anyone except his mother once a month."
I took a slow sip of my vintage champagne. The effervescence danced on my tongue, light and clean.
"I hope he finds peace there," I said smoothly, and to my own surprise, I genuinely meant it.
May you like
The anger was gone. The hurt was gone. Adrian had become an irrelevant chapter in an otherwise extraordinary book. He had paid for his betrayal with the only thing that had ever mattered to him: his status, his pride, and the woman who would have stood beside him through fire.
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