Chapter 11 - The Empty Chair
It had been three months since the morning at Pier 4.
The winter snow had finally melted, giving way to the crisp, blooming colors of early spring around the Moretti estate.
I stood in the master suite, looking at myself in the full-length mirror.
I was wearing a simple, elegant emerald green dress. My hair was pinned up, and the teardrop sapphire Luca had given me rested perfectly on my collarbone.
It still felt surreal.
I wasn't wearing a black uniform. I wasn't carrying a feather duster.
I was waiting for my date.
There was a soft knock on the bedroom door.
“Come in,” I called out.
The door opened, and my mother walked in. She looked entirely transformed. The color had returned to her cheeks, she had gained healthy weight, and she was no longer dragging an oxygen tank. The top doctors Luca had hired had stabilized her heart condition.
She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“You look breathtaking, Emmy,” she said, walking over and fixing a loose curl near my ear.
“I feel like I’m playing dress-up, Mom,” I admitted, a nervous flutter in my stomach.
“You aren't,” she said firmly. “You belong here. He loves you, Emily. Anyone with eyes can see it.”
“I know he does,” I smiled.
And he did. Over the last three months, Luca and I had navigated the complicated transition from boss and employee to partners. We had spent countless hours sitting by the fire, talking about everything we had both lost, and everything we wanted to build.
He was gentle, fiercely protective, and deeply kind—a side of the mafia boss the outside world would never get to see.
“He’s waiting for you downstairs,” my mother said, kissing my cheek.
I took a deep breath and walked out of the room.
As I descended the grand staircase, I saw Luca waiting in the foyer.
He was wearing a perfectly tailored navy suit, looking up at me with that same devastating smile that made my knees weak.
He held his hand out as I reached the bottom step.
“Ready?” he asked, kissing the back of my hand.
“Where are we going?” I asked. “You wouldn't tell me all week.”
“It’s a surprise,” he said, leading me out the front doors to a waiting car.
He didn't take me to a fancy, five-star restaurant in the city. He didn't take me to a private club.
Instead, we drove out to the countryside, pulling up to a small, beautiful Italian family restaurant nestled in a vineyard. It was rustic, warm, and completely devoid of the suffocating luxury I was used to in his world.
The owner greeted Luca with a massive hug, treating him not like a feared Don, but like an old friend.
We were seated at a quiet table in the corner, illuminated by candlelight.
“This is perfect,” I said, looking around the cozy room.
“My parents used to bring me here when I was a kid,” Luca said softly, pouring us a glass of red wine. “Before the money got too big. Before the danger forced us to hide behind iron gates.”
He reached across the table and took my hand.
“I spent my entire life trying to be the cold, untouchable man my father became after my mother died,” Luca confessed. “I thought if I didn't care about anything, no one could use it against me. Vanessa was perfect for that. A business arrangement. Cold. Sterile.”
He traced his thumb over my knuckles.
“And then, a twenty-five-year-old girl baked a chocolate cake for an old woman because it was the right thing to do.”
I blushed, looking down at my wine glass. “It was a good cake, too. It’s a shame Vanessa ruined it.”
Luca laughed, a rich, deep sound.
“I brought you here tonight, Emily, because this is where my father proposed to my mother.”
My heart stopped.
I looked up at him. His dark eyes were completely serious.
“Luca…”
He didn't pull out a ring. He didn't drop to one knee.
Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the tarnished silver pocket watch. His father’s watch.
He placed it on the table between us.
“I don't want a business arrangement,” Luca said, his voice thick with emotion. “I don't want a political alliance. I want the girl who threw a bronze paperweight at a room full of men with assault rifles to protect me.”
May you like
He leaned forward.
“I want a family, Emily. I want you.”
