Chapter 11 – THE FINAL SIGNATURE ON THE CONTRACT

Six months later.

The transition hadn’t been easy. Adelaide passed away in her sleep three weeks after she handed me the deeds, taking the last of the old guard’s secrets to her grave.

Her death sent ripples through the underworld. Dominic’s remaining loyalists, led by a brutal captain named Silvio, demanded that Luca maintain control of the illegal operations or face a war.

But I had the ledger. And I had the deeds.

I sat at the head of the long table in the downtown high-rise that housed our legitimate holding company.

Luca sat to my right, wearing a simple gray suit. He looked relaxed, healthier than he had in years.

Across from us sat Don Carmine and Silvio.

“You want to buy out the Moretti family’s underworld interests,” Don Carmine said, examining the contract I had placed before him.

“We are divesting,” I corrected smoothly. “Luca is stepping down. We are handing over the gambling and extortion territories to Silvio. In exchange, the Commission recognizes the Moretti family as entirely civilian. No retaliation. No blood debts.”

Silvio sneered. “A mafia boss retiring? It doesn’t work like that, sweetheart.”

“It does when I hold the titles to the shipping ports you need to move your goods,” I said, sliding a second folder across the table. “You get the street territories. But I own the docks. You cross us, I shut down your ports. You bleed out in a week.”

Don Carmine chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. He looked at Luca. “Your wife negotiates like a shark, Luca.”

“She’s the Boss now,” Luca said, and for the first time, he smiled when he said it.

Carmine picked up a heavy gold pen. “The Commission accepts the terms. You are out, Luca. But understand this: you can never come back.”

“I don’t want to,” Luca said.

Carmine signed the document. Silvio reluctantly followed suit.

As we walked out of the building into the bright Chicago afternoon, Luca wrapped his arm around my waist.

“It’s done,” he breathed, as if a literal weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “We’re free.”

“Almost,” I said, pulling a set of keys from my purse.

“What are those?” Luca asked.

“A surprise.”

I drove us to the old neighborhood, parking in front of a familiar brick building.

The windows were clean, and a brand-new awning stretched over the sidewalk.

Luca looked at the sign, his eyes widening in shock.

Rose & Clara’s Floral Boutique.

“You bought it back?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

“I used the last of the clean money from Adelaide’s accounts,” I said, unlocking the front door. The smell of fresh lilies and damp earth washed over me—the smell of my childhood. “You sold it to save Leo. I bought it back to save us.”

Luca walked inside, running his hand over the old wooden counter. He turned to me, tears welling in his eyes.

“I love you, Rose,” he said, the words carrying the weight of six years of unspoken devotion. “I am so incredibly sorry for the pain I caused you.”

“You protected our family,” I said, stepping into his arms. “That’s all that matters now.”

Just then, the bell above the door jingled.

“Auntie Rose! Papa!”

Leo ran into the shop, his little legs carrying him as fast as they could. He threw himself at us, and Luca caught him, spinning him around in the air.

Leo was six now, happy, healthy, and completely unaware of the blood that had been spilled to keep him safe.

He pointed to a large bucket of bright yellow sunflowers near the window.

“Can we take those home?” Leo asked.

“We can,” I smiled, ruffling his dark hair. “We can take whatever we want.”

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