“BLOW OUT THAT CANDLE! SHE’S SEVENTY-NINE YEARS OLD, NOT A LITTLE GIRL, AND I’M NOT TURNING MY ENGAGEMENT DINNER INTO HER BIRTHDAY PARTY!” THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS 25-YEAR-OLD MAID FOR BRINGING HIS ELDERLY MOTHER A SMALL CAKE—

Chapter 9 – THE NAME ON THE CERTIFICATE

The hospital room went completely silent.

“What do you mean your name wasn’t on it?” Michael asked, stepping closer to his brother.

Luca stared at the blank wall of the hospital room, trying to process what Carlo had just told him.

“The forged certificate transferred the Moretti estate trust to her new husband upon execution,” Luca explained slowly. “But Clara didn’t forge my signature as the groom.”

“Then whose signature did she forge?” I asked, my heart beginning to race again.

Luca looked at Michael.

“Yours.”

Michael physically stumbled backward, hitting the edge of the sofa.

“Mine?” Michael gasped. “That’s impossible. I’m already married to Sarah.”

“Clara had divorce papers drawn up with Sarah’s forged signature too,” Luca said, his voice grim. “She wasn’t trying to marry me, Michael. She was trying to marry you.”

“Why?” I asked, completely bewildered. “Luca is the head of the family. He controls the majority of the assets.”

Teresa sighed from the bed.

“Because of the contingency clause,” she said quietly.

We all turned to look at her.

“What contingency clause, Mom?” Luca asked.

“Your father’s will,” Teresa explained, her voice steady. “If Luca dies without an heir, the entire estate, the businesses, the offshore accounts… everything automatically transfers to the second son.”

The terrifying reality of Clara’s master plan finally clicked into place.

She never intended to marry Luca. The engagement dinner, the fake romance, the threats—it was all a massive misdirection.

She was going to murder Luca.

She had blackmailed Michael into isolation, planning to use the forged marriage and divorce documents to claim she was Michael’s legal wife. Once Luca was dead, Michael would inherit everything. And because Clara had him blackmailed over Leo, she would control Michael completely.

“She was going to kill you, Luca,” Michael whispered, his face pale with horror. “At the wedding.”

Luca stood perfectly still.

The woman he had shared a home with, the woman he had almost married, had been plotting his assassination for a year.

“It’s over now,” I said softly, stepping closer to Luca. “She’s in federal custody. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

Luca looked down at me. The hardness in his eyes melted slightly.

“You’re right,” he said. “It’s over.”

Two weeks later, the Moretti mansion looked completely different.

The dark, oppressive atmosphere that Vanessa had cultivated was gone. The heavy velvet curtains were pulled back, letting the winter sunlight flood the marble floors. The house smelled of fresh pine and baking bread.

I had moved into the guest suite next to Teresa’s room. My mother had successfully completed her physical therapy, and thanks to Luca’s generous salary advance, she was resting comfortably in her own home with a full-time nurse.

It was Sunday afternoon.

And for the first time in months, the dining room table was set for the entire family.

I was in the kitchen, helping the chef plate the roasted lamb, when the kitchen doors swung open.

Luca walked in.

He was wearing a casual gray sweater, looking more relaxed than I had ever seen him.

“Do you really have to help in the kitchen?” he asked, leaning against the marble counter. “You’re the estate manager now, Hannah. You can tell the staff to do this.”

I smiled, wiping my hands on an apron.

“I like helping, Mr. Moretti. It keeps me grounded.”

“Luca,” he corrected gently.

I felt my cheeks flush. “Luca.”

He walked over to me, stopping just a few inches away. He reached out and gently untied the apron from my waist, pulling it over my head.

“No aprons today,” Luca said softly. “You’re eating with us.”

“I can’t sit at the family table,” I protested weakly.

“My mother insists,” Luca smiled. “And so do I.”

He offered me his arm.

I hesitated for a second, then looped my arm through his.

When we walked into the dining room, Teresa was sitting at the head of the table. Michael and his wife, Sarah, were there, with Leo happily drawing on a napkin beside them.

Teresa beamed when she saw us walk in together.

“Ah, there she is,” Teresa said, clapping her hands. “Come, Hannah. Sit right here next to Luca.”

Dinner was loud, chaotic, and wonderful. There was no tension, no hushed whispers, no fear of saying the wrong thing.

After dinner, the family moved to the living room to drink coffee by the fireplace.

I stayed behind in the dining room to help clear the plates.

As I picked up Luca’s empty coffee cup, I noticed something sitting beneath his saucer.

It was a small, velvet jewelry box.

I froze.

“Open it.”

I spun around. Luca was standing in the doorway, watching me.

My hands trembled as I picked up the box and popped the lid open.

Inside wasn’t a diamond ring.

It was a beautiful, delicate silver necklace with a small pendant shaped like a swallow.

“A bird?” I asked, looking up at him.

Luca walked over to me.

“My father gave that to my mother on their first anniversary,” Luca said quietly. “He told her that swallows always find their way home, no matter how far they fly or how bad the storm is.”

He took the necklace from the box.

“You guided my family through the storm, Hannah. You brought my mother back to me. You saved my brother.”

He stepped behind me, gently sweeping my hair over my shoulder, and clasped the silver chain around my neck.

The metal was cool against my skin, but his touch burned like fire.

“I want you to stay here,” Luca whispered, his breath warm against my ear. “Not just as a manager. I want you to stay with me.”

I turned around to face him.

“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

He didn’t answer with words.

He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me.

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