Chapter 9 - THE LULLABY
Two weeks later.
The morning sun poured through the massive bay windows of the Moretti estate, casting warm, golden light across the mahogany floorboards of the library.
The shattered glass had been replaced. The bullet holes in the walls had been plastered over. The physical scars of the breach were gone, though the emotional ones would take longer to heal.
I sat on the plush leather sofa, a steaming mug of coffee resting on my knee.
Across the room, sitting by the crackling fireplace, was Mia. The blonde, terrified ghost I had pulled from the shipping container was slowly coming back to life. She was wearing a bright yellow dress, intensely focused on building a massive, structurally questionable tower out of wooden blocks.
Sitting right beside her, happily chewing on a blue plastic block, was Leo.
I smiled, taking a sip of my coffee.
“He’s going to eat that, you know.”
I turned my head. Luca was leaning against the heavy wooden doorframe, watching us. He was wearing a soft gray sweater and jeans, his dark hair messy, looking miles away from the terrifying syndicate boss who had torn a warehouse apart.
“It builds immunity,” I joked softly.
Luca walked over and sat down beside me on the sofa. He didn't leave a polite cushion of space. He sat close, his thigh brushing mine, a heavy, comforting heat radiating from him.
It had been a chaotic two weeks.
The FBI had raided the docks. David and Vincent Falcone were sitting in federal holding cells, denied bail, facing life sentences for trafficking and racketeering. The ledger had burned their empires to the ground.
Luca had spent the last fourteen days dismantling the violent wings of his own family’s business. He handed the shipping ports over to legitimate operators. He purged the men who wanted war.
“I’m keeping the restaurants and the real estate,” Luca had told me one night in the kitchen, exhausted but resolute. “No more blood. My son is going to inherit a clean name.”
Now, sitting beside me, Luca reached out and gently traced the silver chain of the locket around my neck.
“I owe you a debt I can never repay, Avery,” Luca said, his dark eyes locking onto mine, heavy with emotion. “You saved my son on that highway. You saved my niece in that warehouse. You gave me my family back.”
“You gave me a life back,” I replied softly. “I don't have to look over my shoulder anymore. David is gone. I’m free.”
Luca’s hand dropped from my necklace to my wrist, his thumb tracing the pulse point there.
“You are free,” Luca agreed, his voice dropping to a low, intimate rumble. “Which is why I need to ask you something. And I need you to give me an honest answer, not an answer you think the boss wants to hear.”
My breath hitched. “Okay.”
“Greg called me yesterday,” Luca said. “He wants to know when his best waitress is coming back to Table Twelve.”
I looked down at my hands. The thought of putting on that stiff white shirt, of smiling at rude customers, of scraping by on tips—it felt like a lifetime ago. But I didn't want to overstay my welcome here. I was a guest. A savior, maybe, but still an outsider in this massive stone house.
“I suppose I should call him,” I said, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “I need to start looking for an apartment. My car is probably still sitting in Lot B.”
Luca’s grip on my wrist tightened. “I didn't ask what you should do. I asked what you want to do.”
I looked up at him. The intense vulnerability in his eyes stripped away all my defenses.
“I want to stay,” I whispered.
Luca exhaled a long, heavy breath, as if he had been holding it for two weeks. He reached up, cupping my cheek with his warm palm, his thumb brushing against my lower lip.
“Good,” Luca murmured. “Because Leo refuses to sleep unless you hum that damn minor-key lullaby. Mia has decided you are the only person allowed to braid her hair. And I…”
He leaned in, his lips brushing against mine, soft and deliberate.
“And I,” Luca finished, his forehead resting against mine, “have absolutely no intention of letting the woman I love go back to pouring water for people who don't deserve to look at her.”
My heart soared. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a real, deep kiss, entirely free of fear, free of adrenaline, anchored only in safety.
Across the room, the tower of wooden blocks came crashing down with a loud clatter.
Leo giggled loudly, clapping his tiny hands.
Mia laughed, a bright, beautiful sound, and began helping him stack them back up.
May you like
I looked at the dangerous man beside me, and the two beautiful, resilient children on the floor. I had walked into a restaurant with forty-three dollars and a broken life.
I was walking out with everything.
