Chapter 7 - The Mafia Boss Who Finally Chose His Son|
By morning, the Moretti mansion had changed.
Security guards stood at the gates.
Lawyers moved quietly through the study.
Several employees had been interviewed about the engagement dinner.
And Luca had canceled every business meeting on his schedule.
All of them.
For the first time since I'd started working there, he spent an entire morning with Noah.
They made pancakes.
Terrible pancakes.
I knew because Mrs. Ramirez came into the pantry shaking her head.
"Miss Ella."
I looked up.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Moretti has somehow burned three pans."
I laughed.
"Three?"
She nodded solemnly.
"And the boy is encouraging him."
I smiled.
For months, Noah had eaten breakfast alone while Luca took calls.
Now father and son stood in the kitchen covered in flour.
Noah was laughing.
Luca looked helpless.
When he saw me, he signed:
Help.
I laughed harder.
You're the boss. Figure it out.
Noah grinned.
Then signed:
Daddy is bad at cooking.
Luca pretended to look offended.
Very bad, I agreed.
For a few beautiful minutes, the mansion felt like an ordinary home.
Not a fortress.
Not a business headquarters.
Just a father trying to make breakfast for his son.
Then Daniel appeared.
His expression was serious.
"Sir, there's an update."
Luca looked toward Noah.
Then back at Daniel.
"Can it wait ten minutes?"
Daniel hesitated.
"Yes."
Luca nodded.
"Then it waits."
I stared.
For eleven months, I'd seen Luca interrupt meals for calls.
Leave family dinners for meetings.
Answer messages in the middle of conversations.
Now he was choosing his son.
Not as a dramatic gesture.
As something ordinary.
Something Noah should have been able to expect all along.
After breakfast, Luca arranged for a qualified Deaf education specialist to meet with Noah and discuss any support he wanted at school.
He also asked Noah whether he liked his current classroom.
Noah signed enthusiastically.
I like my teacher. She lets me explain dinosaurs.
Luca smiled.
Then let's keep you somewhere you feel happy and supported.
Noah hugged him.
I watched from the doorway.
My eyes filled.
Later, Luca asked to speak with me privately.
We sat in the library.
He looked tired.
But calmer.
"Ella, I want to discuss your work here."
My stomach tightened.
Of course.
The investigation.
The family scandal.
Maybe he wanted fewer employees around.
Maybe he thought I'd become too involved.
I folded my hands.
"Yes, sir."
He noticed my expression.
"You're not being dismissed."
I exhaled.
He smiled faintly.
"I wanted to ask whether you'd consider a different position."
I frowned.
"What kind?"
"A role supporting Noah's communication and educational needs. With appropriate qualifications and professional support, of course."
I stared.
"You mean as his caregiver?"
"Partly. But I don't want you to feel obligated."
My heart raced.
"What would happen to my housekeeping duties?"
"We'd hire someone else to cover them."
I looked away.
For years, I'd taken whatever work I could find.
Cleaning.
Serving.
Washing.
I never minded honest work.
But I had once dreamed of becoming an interpreter.
I abandoned that plan when my father died and my mother needed help.
Now Luca was offering a possibility I'd stopped allowing myself to imagine.
"I'd need training," I said.
He nodded.
"Of course."
"And I'd want Noah to have qualified professionals too."
"Absolutely."
I looked at him.
"Mr. Moretti—"
"Luca."
I smiled nervously.
"Right."
He continued.
"Your knowledge of ASL has already made a difference. But Noah deserves a whole network of people who can communicate with him."
My eyes filled.
For the first time, someone wasn't treating my signing as a cute trick.
They understood it was a language.
A bridge.
A way for Noah to be fully included in his own life.
"I'd like to think about it," I whispered.
Luca nodded.
"Take your time."
Then he said something unexpected.
"And Ella?"
I looked up.
"Yes?"
"Whatever you decide, your mother's financial situation shouldn't force you to accept work you don't want."
My throat tightened.
He continued.
"We can review your compensation fairly, and I'll make sure you have information about educational opportunities."
I stared at him.
For a moment, I wanted to cry.
Not because he was rich.
Not because he could help.
Because he'd asked what I wanted.
Then Daniel entered.
"Boss."
Luca turned.
"What?"
"We found Michael."
My stomach dropped.
"Where?"
Daniel hesitated.
"At a private residence outside Chicago."
Luca stood.
"Bring in the investigators."
Daniel nodded.
"But there's something else."
"What?"
"Michael claims he didn't arrange Noah's removal."
Luca's expression hardened.
"Then who did?"
Daniel looked toward me.
His face was pale.
"He says the instructions came from someone who had access to the household schedule."
My heart began pounding.
"Who?"
Daniel swallowed.
Then whispered:
"Someone who knew Ella would be signing with Noah during the engagement dinner."
I froze.
Because only a few people knew I'd planned to stay beside Noah that evening.
Claudia.
Mrs. Ramirez.
Luca.
And Michael.
But there was one more person.
Someone I'd trusted completely.
May you like
Someone who had encouraged me to apply for the job eleven months earlier.
My mother.
