Chapter 10 - The Sovereign and the Protector
Six months later.
The summer breeze swept across the manicured terrace of the Moretti estate, carrying the scent of blooming jasmine and pine needles.
Gianna was walking now. She took four wobbly, triumphant steps across the stone patio before tumbling into the soft grass, giggling uncontrollably.
Mara sat at the outdoor iron table, dressed in an ivory linen dress that bore no resemblance to the stained maid uniforms of her past. She had filled out; the hollows in her cheeks were gone, replaced by a radiant, calm strength. She was reviewing the budget for the new charitable foundation she had established—a network of safe houses and educational funds for aged-out foster children across New York, backed by ten million dollars of Moretti capital.
Bootsteps approached the terrace.
Salvatore walked out into the sunlight. He had discarded his tie and jacket, his sleeves rolled up, looking less like a ruthless mob boss and more like a man who had finally found peace after a lifetime at war.
He bent down, scooped Gianna off the grass, and tossed her into the air, catching her to a chorus of squeals and laughter.
"She has your stubbornness," Salvatore said, walking over to Mara’s chair and setting Gianna on Mara’s lap.
"She has your appetite," Mara shot back with a dry smile, wiping grass off Gianna’s chin. "She ate two bowls of peaches this morning."
Salvatore rested his hand on the back of Mara’s chair. His fingers lightly brushed the curve of her shoulder, a gesture that had become natural, warm, and deeply protective over the passing months. They were not married—not yet—but the foundation between them had grown into something deeper than contracts or syndicate law. It was built on trust forged in the darkest alley in the city.
"Luca reported from the Ashworth Grand today," Salvatore said quietly. "The renovations are complete. The hotel has been sold to a holding company under your foundation's name."
May you like
Mara paused, looking up at him. "The whole hotel?"
"Every floor," Salvatore smiled, a rare, genuine warmth in his eyes. "The service alley behind it has been paved over into a community garden. No one will ever freeze in that alley again, Mara."
