Chapter 9 - THE HEAD OF THE TABLE
Six months later.
The chandeliers in the Gold Coast mansion were shining just as brightly as they had on the night of the ruined engagement dinner. But the room felt entirely different.
The long mahogany table was set for fifty people, not thirty. And there wasn’t a single caviar dish or snooty socialite in sight.
Instead, the table was piled high with massive plates of baked ziti, garlic bread, and roasted meats. The air was filled with loud laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the chaotic joy of a real family gathering.
I walked out of the kitchen, carrying a massive bowl of salad. I wasn’t wearing a maid’s uniform anymore. I was wearing a beautiful emerald green dress.
As I set the bowl down, a small boy—the son of one of the estate’s groundskeepers—ran past me, giggling as he chased a golden retriever under the table.
“Careful, Leo!” I laughed, side-stepping the dog.
“Sorry, Miss Emma!” the boy yelled, disappearing into the foyer.
I looked down the length of the table.
At the far end, sitting in a plush, comfortable armchair, was my father. He looked healthier than he had in years. The paralysis in his face had significantly improved, and while he still used a cane, he was sitting upright, smiling as he attempted to tell a joke to the man sitting next to him.
That man was Walter Callahan.
Mr. Callahan was wearing a brand-new suit that fit him perfectly. He held a glass of red wine, laughing loudly at my father’s joke. Sitting right in front of him on the table, serving as a centerpiece, was the dented metal lunchbox.
Luca had made good on his father’s promise. The trust fund had been distributed, changing the lives of twenty families overnight. My father was legally recognized as the hero who protected the funds, his reputation completely restored.
Luca had also stepped back from the darker edges of his family’s business. With Bellini gone, Luca had restructured his empire, focusing entirely on legitimate shipping and real estate, establishing a massive charitable foundation in Michael Moretti’s name.
My father and Mr. Callahan sat on the board of directors.
And me?
I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist from behind.
Luca pressed a soft kiss to the side of my neck, making me shiver.
“The food smells incredible,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. “But you look better.”
I leaned back into him, smiling. “You’re just saying that because I let you taste the sauce early.”
Luca chuckled, turning me around in his arms. He looked down at me, his dark eyes filled with a profound, quiet peace.
He reached into his jacket pocket.
“I have something for you,” he said.
He pulled out a small velvet box and popped it open.
Inside was the heavy gold pocket watch. The shattered glass had been completely repaired, the casing polished until it shone like the sun. But attached to the top hoop of the watch was a beautiful, delicate gold chain, turning the heirloom into a stunning necklace.
“Luca,” I gasped, touching the smooth glass. “It’s beautiful.”
“Your father asked me to have it fixed for you,” Luca said softly. He stepped behind me, lifting my hair, and secured the clasp around my neck. The heavy gold watch rested perfectly against my collarbone, a warm reminder of everything we had fought for.
I turned back to him, tears of happiness pricking my eyes. “Thank you.”
Luca cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing my cheeks.
“Emma,” he said, his voice dropping to a serious, intimate register that made my heart flutter. “My father left me a test to find out if the woman I loved respected people who had nothing. But he didn’t leave me instructions on what to do when I found a woman who had nothing, but gave me everything.”
I looked up into his eyes, my breath catching in my throat.
“What are you saying, Luca?”
He smiled, a slow, devastatingly handsome smile.
“I’m saying that the seat at the head of the table has been empty for too long,” Luca said. “And I don’t want anyone else sitting beside me for the rest of my life. Just you.”
He didn’t drop to one knee. He didn’t make a massive spectacle. He just looked at me with absolute, unwavering certainty.
“Will you marry me, Emma?”
I didn’t need to think. I didn’t need to look at the wealth around me. I just looked at the man who had risked his life for my father, the man who treated a janitor like a king.
“Yes,” I whispered, throwing my arms around his neck. “Yes, absolutely.”
Luca kissed me, deep and full of promise, right there in the middle of the dining room.
A loud cheer erupted around us. I pulled back, blushing, to see the entire table looking our way.
My father was beaming, raising his glass of water in a toast.
Mr. Callahan tapped his fork against his wine glass, standing up slowly with the help of his cane.
“To Michael and Arthur,” the old man called out, his voice echoing in the warm, brightly lit room. “And to the kid who finally got it right!”
“To the kid!” the table echoed back.
Luca pulled me close to his side, his arm securely around my waist. He looked down the table at the patchwork family of former maids, janitors, bodyguards, and accountants.
May you like
He looked at me, his eyes shining.
The debts were paid. The past was honored. And our future had finally begun.
