Chapter 11 – The Empty Chair

One year later.

The summer breeze blew gently off Lake Michigan, carrying the smell of roasted garlic and fresh basil through the open terrace doors.

The new Moretti estate was located in the quiet, heavily wooded suburbs north of the city.

It wasn’t a cold, marble mansion like the one that had burned down. It was a sprawling, warm Mediterranean-style home, filled with light, laughter, and life.

I stood in the massive kitchen, wearing a simple white sundress.

I was pulling a tray of warm, fresh dinner rolls out of the oven.

Elena walked up beside me, carrying a bowl of fresh salad. She looked younger than she had a year ago, the heavy weight of secrets and fear completely lifted from her shoulders.

“They smell wonderful, Isabella,” Elena smiled, kissing my cheek.

“Thanks, Mom,” I smiled back.

I placed the rolls in a silver basket and carried them out to the terrace.

A long, rustic wooden table was set under a canopy of string lights and grapevines.

It was Sunday dinner.

Marco was sitting at the end of the table, laughing. His shoulder had healed completely, and though he still carried the scars of his ten-year exile, his eyes were bright. He was officially back as the co-head of the Moretti family, sharing the burden with Luca.

Beside Marco sat Anna, glowing and beautiful, pouring a glass of red wine.

And running wildly across the lawn, chasing a golden retriever puppy, was Noah.

He was nine years old now. Taller, faster, and louder.

“Noah, don’t let the dog eat the flowers!” Luca yelled playfully from the grill, flipping a massive steak.

Noah laughed, a bright, clear, unhindered sound.

“I won’t, Daddy!” Noah shouted back. Not a single stutter in his voice.

Luca smiled, setting the tongs down.

He walked over to the table and wrapped his arms around Anna from behind, kissing the top of her head.

I set the basket of warm rolls on the table.

Luca looked up and caught my eye.

“Everything looks perfect, Bella,” Luca said.

“It took all day,” I teased. “You owe me for helping Mom cook.”

“Name your price,” Luca grinned.

I looked around the table. At Marco, laughing with Elena. At Anna, watching her son play in the grass. At Luca, looking at his family with absolute, fierce devotion.

The Genesis Ledger had been presented to the Commission nine months ago. The remaining Bellini lieutenants were exiled or imprisoned. The Moretti name was cleared, their honor restored.

We had peace.

“I don’t need anything else,” I said softly.

Noah came running up to the table, out of breath, the puppy trailing behind him.

“I’m hungry!” Noah announced, climbing into his chair.

He looked at the basket of bread, his eyes lighting up.

He reached out and took two warm rolls.

But he didn’t hide them in his pockets. He didn’t wrap them in a napkin to sneak upstairs.

He took a big bite out of one, then handed the other one to me.

“Here you go, Auntie Bella,” Noah smiled.

My heart swelled. I took the bread.

“Thank you, sweetie.”

Luca took off his apron and sat down in the large chair at the head of the table.

Anna sat to his right. Noah sat to his left. Marco and Elena sat across from each other.

And I sat right beside Marco.

There were no empty chairs at this table. There were no secrets hiding in the shadows.

Luca raised his glass of wine.

The chatter around the table quieted down.

Luca looked at his mother. At his brother. At his wife and son.

And finally, he looked at me.

“To family,” Luca said, his voice thick with emotion. “The ones who returned to us. The ones we found. And the ones who make this house a home.”

We all raised our glasses.

“To family,” we echoed together.

The crystal glasses clinked in the warm summer air.

I looked out over the sprawling green lawn as the sun began to set over the lake.

For twenty-six years, I had been an orphan sweeping floors, terrified of doing the wrong thing, terrified of being thrown out.

Now, I was Isabella Moretti.

And I was exactly where I belonged.

Share