Chapter 9 – THE INVITATION

Six months later.

The Chicago autumn air was crisp, sending golden leaves swirling across the manicured lawns of the university campus. I tightened my scarf, clutching my Italian Literature textbook to my chest as I walked out of the lecture hall.

Life had changed in ways I still couldn’t fully comprehend.

My mother was thriving. She had moved into a beautiful, sunlit condo overlooking Lake Michigan. She had hired a private specialist for her health, and the color had returned to her cheeks. She spent her days painting and volunteering at a local community center.

I had enrolled in the university full-time. The ten million dollars sat securely in a trust, generating enough interest that I never had to look at a price tag again, but I still lived modestly in a comfortable apartment near campus. I wanted to earn my degree. I wanted to build something of my own.

As I walked down the stone steps of the library, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a text from Anna.

“Don’t forget! Sunday at 2 PM. Sophia has been asking if ‘Auntie Em’ is coming all week.”

I smiled. The Moretti family had refused to let me fade into the background. Every Sunday, Michael and Anna hosted a massive family dinner at their new home in the suburbs—far away from the cold, echoing halls of the old estate.

Michael had stepped up as the CEO of the legitimate side of the Moretti shipping empire, completely restructuring the company after the federal raid cleared out his uncle’s corruption. He looked ten years younger, deeply devoted to his wife and children.

I typed a quick reply. “I wouldn’t miss it! Tell Sophia I’m bringing her favorite cookies.”

I slipped the phone back into my pocket, but when I looked up, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Standing at the bottom of the steps, leaning against the sleek black hood of his car, was Luca.

He was wearing a tailored charcoal coat over a black turtleneck, looking every bit the devastatingly handsome, powerful man he was. But the hard, dangerous edge that used to surround him was gone. He looked relaxed. Happy.

Several college students walking by turned their heads to stare at him, but Luca’s eyes were locked solely on me.

“Mr. Moretti,” I teased, walking down the steps toward him. “What brings you to this side of town?”

He smiled, pushing off the car. “I thought we agreed you’d drop the ‘Mr. Moretti’ six months ago, Emily.”

“Old habits,” I laughed, my heart doing that familiar flutter it did every time I saw him.

Over the last six months, Luca and I had taken things incredibly slow. He had been navigating the fallout of the FBI investigation, ensuring his family’s legitimate businesses survived the scandal. I had been adjusting to my new life. But he had kept his promise. We had gone to dinner. Then coffee. Then long walks along the lakefront.

“I was in the neighborhood,” Luca said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And I realized I hadn’t seen you since Tuesday. It felt like entirely too long.”

I blushed, looking down at my boots. “It’s only been three days.”

“Three days too many,” he replied smoothly. He reached out and gently took my textbook from my hands, tossing it into the passenger seat. “Get in. I want to show you something.”

“Show me what?” I asked, sliding into the leather seat.

“You’ll see.”

We drove through the city, the afternoon sun warming the interior of the car. Luca’s presence was a steady, comforting weight beside me.

He pulled up to a beautifully restored, historic brick building in the West Loop. It had large, arched windows and fresh paint.

We got out, and he unlocked the front door with a brass key.

Inside, the space was massive and empty, smelling of fresh pine and lemon polish. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, and sunlight poured across the hardwood floors.

“What is this place?” I asked, spinning around in awe.

“It used to be an old print shop,” Luca said, walking up behind me. “I bought it last month. The renovations just finished this morning.”

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed. “What are you going to do with it?”

Luca reached into his coat pocket. He didn’t pull out a gun, or a threat, or a ledger.

He pulled out a small, velvet jewelry box.

My breath caught in my throat.

A sudden reversal of my expectations—I thought he was showing me a new office for his company.

Luca opened the box. Inside wasn’t a diamond ring. It was a delicate, antique silver key on a thin chain.

“I’m not doing anything with it,” Luca said softly, stepping closer. “You are.”

I looked up at him, bewildered. “Me?”

“You told me you wanted to translate literature. You wanted to create something,” Luca said, his voice deep and warm. “So, I bought you a publishing house. It’s completely in your name, Emily. A place where you can bring international stories to the world.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. “Luca… I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”

“It’s not enough,” he countered, stepping into my space. He gently lifted the silver chain and placed it around my neck. The cold metal rested against my collarbone, a promise of a future I had only dreamed of.

He rested his hands on my hips, pulling me gently against his chest.

“I love you, Emily,” he murmured, his forehead resting against mine. “You changed my life. You brought light into a world I thought was permanently dark.”

I closed my eyes, a tear escaping and trailing down my cheek.

“I love you too, Luca,” I whispered.

He kissed me, slow and sweet, the autumn sun wrapping around us in the empty, beautiful room.