Chapter 15 - THE REAL LADY OF THE MANOR
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One year later, the Moretti estate was bathed in the warm, golden glow of an October twilight.
Over three hundred guests filled the grand ballroom, dressed in black-tie formal wear.
The sound of a live string quartet drifted through the French doors into the illuminated gardens.
There was no fear in the room tonight.
No whispered conspiracies or cold, calculating stares.
The Chicago Commission, completely reformed under Luca’s absolute leadership, was celebrating the annual Moretti Autumn Gala.
At the center of the head table sat Antonio Moretti.
He looked younger, his silver hair neatly styled, his posture commanding and proud.
Both of his hearing aids were gleaming in the light, and he was laughing heartily at a joke shared by Clara Hayes.
My mother sat beside him, dressed in an elegant navy lace gown.
Her shoulder had completely healed, and she was currently the director of the Moretti Children’s Foundation in Lincoln Park.
At the top of the sweeping marble staircase, Luca stood waiting for me.
He wore a custom black tuxedo that accentuated his broad shoulders and commanding presence.
When I stepped out onto the landing, his dark eyes ignited with a warmth meant solely for me.
I wasn't wearing a black housekeeping dress or a white apron tonight.
I wore an off-the-shoulder emerald velvet gown that swept the marble floor with regal grace.
Around my neck rested a delicate pendant of white gold—not stolen diamonds, but a gift Luca had crafted for me on our six-month anniversary.
Luca walked toward me, taking my gloved hand and kissing my knuckles with tender reverence.
“You take my breath away, every single day,” he murmured against my skin.
“Are you ready for your first official speech as mistress of the house?” I teased gently.
Luca laughed, a rich, happy sound.
“They don't care about my speech, Emma.”
“They only care about seeing the woman who tamed the beast of Chicago.”
Together, we walked down the grand staircase as the three hundred guests turned toward us.
Thunderous applause erupted through the ballroom.
Antonio stood up from his seat, raising his crystal glass high into the air.
The room immediately silenced in respect for the old patriarch.
“One year ago,” Antonio began, his voice strong, resonant, and clear without a hint of hesitation.
“A woman walked into this house believing she could break this family with lies and cruelty.”
“She ordered an innocent girl to crawl under our table to humiliate her.”
Antonio smiled warmly, his eyes shining as he looked directly at me.
“She thought she was proving her dominance over a maid.”
“Instead, she revealed the true Queen of this house.”
Antonio turned his glass toward Luca and me.
“To Emma,” Antonio toasted proudly.
“The woman who gave an old man his voice back.”
“And the woman who gave my son his heart.”
“To Emma!” three hundred voices roared in unison, lifting their champagne flutes to the chandeliers.
Luca wrapped his arm securely around my waist, pulling me against his side.
He looked down at me, his smile radiant with pure, uncomplicated happiness.
“I told you that you belonged here,” Luca whispered softly against my ear.
I leaned into his embrace, watching my mother laugh across the room, surrounded by security, respect, and peace.
I had crawled under that table as a frightened maid with everything to lose.
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Tonight, I stood beside the man I loved as the undisputed lady of the Moretti empire.
And nobody would ever order me to bow again.
