Chapter 9
By autumn, the Moretti estate had transformed completely. The dark, cold atmosphere that once dominated the stone mansion was gone, replaced by light, music, and the sound of a child's laughter.
Vincent had officially announced his intentions to the syndicate council: Clara Romano was under his personal protection as his future wife, and Ellie was recognized as his legal daughter and heir to the Moretti private estate.
On a cool October evening, a grand dinner was held in the formal dining room—the very room where Ellie had placed her three gold coins months ago.
The long table was set with fine porcelain, glowing candles, and autumn flowers. Sitting at the head of the table was Vincent, looking sharp and commanding in a dark charcoal suit. Beside him sat Clara, stunning in a wine-red velvet gown, her hair styled in soft waves.
Ellie sat between them in her high chair, wearing a miniature red dress that matched her mother's, holding a silver spoon and giggling as Vincent cut her food into tiny pieces.
"You're spoiling her, Vincent," Clara teased gently, taking a sip of her wine.
"She’s a Moretti," Vincent replied with a proud smirk, winking at the toddler. "She deserves to be spoiled."
Elder Carmine sat across from them, raising his glass in a toast. "To Vincent, Clara, and little Ellie. May the Moretti family know peace for generations to come."
"To family," the guests echoed, clinking their glasses together.
Clara looked at Vincent, reaching under the table to interlock her fingers with his. He squeezed her hand tightly, his dark eyes filled with absolute devotion.
Everything was perfect. The shadows of the past had been cleared, Dante was gone, and their future was bright and secure.
Suddenly, the heavy mahogany doors of the dining room opened slightly.
Vincent’s head security officer, Marcus, stepped into the room. He looked calm, but his face carried a strange, subtle tension as he held a thick, wax-sealed manila envelope in his hands.
Marcus walked quietly up to the head of the table, leaning down to speak in Vincent’s ear.
"Boss," Marcus whispered. "A private courier just arrived from the probate court in Rome. This document was sealed four years ago by Marco Romano before he passed away."
May you like
Vincent’s brow furrowed slightly. "Marco?"
"Yes, sir," Marcus said, placing the heavy envelope onto the table beside Vincent's plate. "He left strict instructions that it should only be opened on Ellie’s fourth birthday... or when you officially claimed her as your daughter."
