Chapter 12 - THE PROPOSAL AT OAKLEY
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The front door of Don Roberto’s Ristorante was locked when our black town car pulled up to the curb at two in the afternoon.
The vintage neon sign in the window was turned off, and the red velvet curtains were drawn shut against the winter street.
“Why is it dark, Luca?” I asked, looking curiously through the frost-edged window.
“Michael said he had a private booking for lunch,” Luca replied smoothly, holding my hand as we walked under the green awning.
He unlocked the heavy wooden door with his brass key and pushed it open.
The moment I stepped across the threshold, the breath left my chest in a soft, stunned gasp.
The entire dining room had been transformed into an enchanted garden of golden light.
Hundreds of small beeswax candles flickered along the wooden tables, reflecting across the polished wine glasses and antique mirrors.
Towering vases of fragrant white lilies and red roses lined the brick walls, filling the warm air with the sweet perfume of spring.
At the center of the dining room sat a single table draped in pristine white linen, illuminated by a magnificent crystal candelabra.
Sitting on the table, beside two crystal flutes of sparkling water, was a silver wine pitcher.
The exact same silver pitcher that Vanessa had snatched from my hands three months ago.
Beside the pitcher lay a freshly pressed white maid’s apron, folded with immaculate precision.
My heart began to hammer against my ribs like a trapped bird, tears instantly blurring my vision.
“Luca...” I whispered, turning to face him.
Luca stepped into the warm candlelight, removing his heavy overcoat and tossing it onto an empty chair.
He looked at the folded apron on the table, then looked into my eyes with an emotion so raw, so sacred, it made the room feel holy.
“Three months ago, Emily,” Luca began, his deep baritone voice trembling slightly with unvarnished vulnerability.
“A woman stood beside this very table in an apron and refused to let an innocent family be destroyed.”
“She spoke the language of her ancestors, she defended my brother, and she took the fire for a family that hadn't yet earned her loyalty.”
He took both of my hands into his large, warm palms, his thumbs gently smoothing over my trembling knuckles.
“I was a man who lived in the dark, Emily.”
“I thought that power was the only shield that could protect a man from being hurt.”
“I thought that love was a weakness that enemies could exploit.”
His dark gray eyes shone with unshed tears as he looked down into my face.
“Then you walked into my life, carrying an honest heart and the courage of an army.”
“You showed me that true strength is mercy.”
“You showed me that true royalty is loyalty.”
“And you gave my soul a home.”
Luca slowly reached into his suit breast pocket and pulled out a small, worn black velvet box.
The flickering candlelight caught the polished gold latch as he pressed it open.
Resting inside on a bed of ivory silk was a breathtaking custom platinum ring.
At its center was a flawless, five-carat emerald-cut diamond of blinding brilliance, flanked by two deep-red rubies that caught the candlelight like droplets of vintage wine.
“I had this designed by our family’s jeweler in Florence, Emily,” Luca whispered softly.
“The rubies are to remind us that what was meant to humiliate you has become the crown of our victory.”
Luca Moretti—the most feared and respected man in the city of Chicago—slowly lowered himself onto one knee on the worn brick floor of his father’s restaurant.
The entire world outside the frost-covered windows seemed to fade into absolute, reverent silence.
“Emily Carter,” Luca said, looking up into my face with complete, unreserved surrender.
May you like
“Will you do me the greatest honor of my life?”
“Will you marry me, and be the queen of my heart and the lady of my house forever?”
