Chapter 10 - The Dawn Of A New Empire
Three weeks later, the Umbrian sun rose over a world that had finally stopped burning. Dante Rossi’s syndicate had dissolved overnight following the botched raid, its assets absorbed into the expanding portfolio of the Moretti-Gabriel empire. But inside the east wing of the stone villa, grand wars and criminal empires felt like a lifetime away. Simona sat in a comfortable armchair by the open French doors of the master suite, a cup of steaming espresso resting on the small wooden table beside her. Outside on the sunlit stone terrace, five-year-old Marco was chasing a ball across the grass, laughing wildly as a giant, terrifying-looking bodyguard named Moretti gamely tossed it back to him. A soft rustle of sheets drew her attention back to the room. Gabriel sat propped up in the center of the massive four-poster bed. He still looked pale, the deep scar along his ribs covered by clean medical tape, but the strength had returned to his shoulders and the unyielding fire had returned to his slate-gray eyes. He watched her quietly for a long moment, taking in the way the sunlight caught the dark strands of her hair. "Marco is wearing Moretti out," Gabriel observed, a low, genuine rumble of amusement in his voice. "Moretti has survived three assassination attempts and a federal indictment," Simona replied without looking away from the window, though a small smile touched the corner of her lips. "I give him forty-eight minutes before Marco reduces him to tears." Gabriel chuckled, a sound that resonated deep in his chest, before his expression softened into something quiet and vulnerable. He reached out across the mattress, his hand resting palm-up on the white linen sheet. "Simona." She turned her head, meeting his gaze. She stood up slowly from the armchair, walked across the Persian rug, and slid her hand into his, letting her fingers interlock naturally with his calloused palm. "You can't keep us locked in a medieval fortress forever, Gabriel," she said softly, though there was no real anger left in her voice. "The clinic in Rome reopens next month. And Marco starts kindergarten in the fall." Gabriel squeezed her hand gently, pulling her just a fraction closer to the edge of the bed. "Who said anything about a fortress?" he asked, his slate-gray eyes shining with a profound, unshakable devotion. "The villa in Rome is finished being remodeled. The security is absolute. And the man who owns it... has finally decided to step out of the shadows." Simona looked down at him—the stranger from seat 14A, the phantom from her past, and the father of her son—and realized that the storm was finally over. The flight was finally home.
