Chapter 8 – THE FAMILY WE CHOOSE

I dropped to my knees on the polished marble floor, ignoring the flashing cameras and the stunned silence of the wealthy investors.

I looked into Mia’s big, brown eyes—eyes that looked exactly like mine. Like Luca’s. Like our father’s.

“Yes, sweetheart,” I whispered, tears spilling down my cheeks with a joy I hadn’t felt in a decade. “I’m your Aunt Hannah.”

Mia threw her arms around my neck, hugging me fiercely. I wrapped my arms around her small body, holding her tight, breathing in the scent of her hair.

Behind me, I heard a soft, choked sob.

I looked up. Eleanor, the woman who had spent nine years running and hiding to protect this child, was crying softly, her hands clasped over her heart.

Luca stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his mother, pulling her into a deep, forgiving embrace.

“You’re home, Mom,” Luca whispered into her silver hair. “You’re both home.”

The grand opening of the hotel had been ruined, but standing in the lobby that morning, surrounded by the family I never knew I had, I felt like my life was finally beginning.

Four weeks later, the Chicago autumn painted the city in brilliant shades of gold and crimson.

Catherine Bellamy had been indicted on twenty-two federal charges, including racketeering, fraud, and conspiracy to commit murder. Dr. Evans had taken a plea deal, testifying against her in exchange for a lighter sentence.

I wasn’t a housemaid anymore.

I stood in the massive, sunlit penthouse suite overlooking Lake Michigan, wearing a tailored navy suit that Luca had bought for me.

I looked in the mirror, adjusting the delicate silver dove necklace resting against my collarbone.

“You look like a CEO,” a small voice said from the doorway.

I turned around and smiled.

Leo was standing there, leaning heavily on a cane, but his cheeks were pink, and his eyes were bright. The poison was completely out of his system. He was gaining weight, getting stronger every single day.

“I don’t know about a CEO,” I laughed, walking over and ruffling his hair. “But I definitely don’t look like I’m about to scrub toilets.”

Leo grinned. “Good. Because Thomas is waiting downstairs, and he says if you’re late for the dedication, he’s going to eat all the shrimp cocktail.”

I grabbed my purse and we headed down the private elevator to the grand lobby.

The hotel was officially reopening today. But it wasn’t a lavish party for billionaires.

Luca had transformed the event into a massive charity gala benefiting St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital, paying off the medical debt for hundreds of families in Chicago.

When we stepped into the lobby, the room was filled with laughter, music, and light.

Thomas Whitaker was standing near the grand staircase, wearing a brand new, tailored tuxedo. His old brown work boots had been bronzed and placed in a beautiful glass display case near the front desk, honoring the men who built the foundation.

When Thomas saw me, his eyes lit up.

“There she is,” Thomas smiled, offering his arm to me. “The lady of the house.”

“Oh, stop it, Thomas,” I blushed, taking his arm.

Luca was standing near the champagne tower, holding Mia in his arms. He was laughing at something she had said, looking happier and more relaxed than I had ever seen him.

When he saw me, he put Mia down and walked over.

“Are you ready?” Luca asked, smiling warmly.

“Ready for what?” I asked.

Luca didn’t answer. He just gestured toward the large velvet curtain covering the wall near the entrance.

He handed me a small pair of golden scissors.

“Cut the ribbon, Hannah,” Luca said softly.

I took the scissors, my hands trembling slightly. I walked over to the velvet rope and snipped the red ribbon.

The curtain fell away.

Behind it was a massive, beautiful bronze plaque.

The Moretti-Collins Hotel.

Dedicated to Franco Moretti, David Collins, and Mary Collins.

A foundation built on love, truth, and family.

I covered my mouth, a fresh wave of tears hitting me.

He had renamed the entire hotel group to honor the parents who raised me.

“They were good people, Hannah,” Luca said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “They protected you. They protected our family. They deserve to be remembered.”

I leaned into my brother, feeling a profound, overwhelming sense of peace.

My dignity had been restored. The villains were locked away. My little brother was safe and healing. And Mia had a father who adored her.

But as the guests clapped and the champagne popped, Thomas tapped me gently on the shoulder.

“Hannah, sweetheart,” Thomas whispered, a strange, hesitant look on his face. “Before the party gets too loud, there’s something else I need to give you.”

He reached into his tuxedo pocket and pulled out a small, tarnished brass key.

“What is this?” I asked.

“It’s from your adopted father, David,” Thomas said quietly. “He gave it to me the week before he died. He said if you ever found out the truth about your blood, I was supposed to give you this key.”

He pressed it into my palm.

“He said it opens a door in the old bakery,” Thomas whispered.

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