Chapter 10 - Queen of the Moretti Empire
Six months later, the sub-cellar of the Moretti estate had been completely transformed.
The damp, dust-choked corridors were now climate-controlled vaults featuring state-of-the-art security systems and an automated archive that I had personally designed. The domestic staff no longer worked for fourteen dollars an hour; under my new directives, every servant, guard, and dockworker received full medical benefits, fair wages, and an ironclad pension fund.
Loyalty in our empire was no longer bought with fear. It was forged in respect.
I stood on the glass-railed balcony of the master suite, looking out over the sparkling expanse of the New York harbor. The morning sun bathed the water in molten gold, and in the distance, three massive cargo freighters bearing the Moretti crest steamed past the Statue of Liberty.
A pair of strong, familiar arms wrapped around my waist from behind.
Dante pulled me back against his broad chest, his chin resting comfortably on the top of my head. He had just stepped out of the shower, wearing only a pair of dark linen trousers, his skin radiating the clean scents of cedarwood and sea salt.
“You’re up early, my love,” he whispered, his lips pressing a warm kiss against the crook of my neck, right over the faded edge of my burn scar.
“The port manifests from Rotterdam arrived,” I smiled, resting my hands over his large, scarred ones where they rested across my stomach. “We cleared a twelve percent profit increase after restructuring the dockworkers' shifts.”
Dante chuckled, the deep vibration rumbling pleasantly through my back. “You’ve been Donna of this city for half a year, and you still can’t stop managing logistics.”
“Logistics win wars, Dante,” I teased, turning in his arms to face him. “Brute force just makes a mess on the carpet.”
Dante’s gray eyes softened, filled with an overwhelming, tender adoration that made my breath catch, even after all these months. He reached up, gently tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind my ear.
“Have you heard the news from Buenos Aires?” he asked quietly.
I shook my head. “No. What happened?”
“Camila Sterling was spotted working as a hostess in a low-end tango lounge,” Dante said, without a trace of pity in his voice. “Julian blew the remainder of their five hundred dollars at a back-alley poker table within forty-eight hours of arriving. They are entirely destitute.”
I looked out at the vast, shining horizon. A year ago, Camila’s cruelty had made me feel small, worthless, and invisible. But standing here now, wrapped in the arms of the man who ruled an empire, I felt nothing toward her.
No anger. No hatred. Only the quiet, unshakeable peace of poetic justice.
“They created their own hell,” I said softly. “Let them live in it.”
Dante looked down at me, his gaze dropping to the slight, beautiful swell of my stomach beneath my silk robe.
His large hand slid downward, resting flat against my belly with a reverent, trembling tenderness.
“And what about our future?” he asked, his voice thick with a profound, emotional weight. “Did Dr. Henderson confirm it this morning?”
Tears of pure happiness welled in my eyes. I placed my hands over his, nodding slowly.
“Yes,” I whispered, a radiant smile breaking across my face. “Eight weeks. We’re having a baby, Dante.”
A sound that was half-laugh, half-sob escaped Dante’s throat. The most feared man on the eastern seaboard dropped to his knees on the balcony, wrapping his arms around my hips, burying his face against my stomach as he kissed the silk fabric over and over again.
“An heir,” Dante breathed, looking up at me with tears glistening in his fierce gray eyes. “A child born of a queen who saved my life.”
He stood up, effortlessly lifting me into his arms, carrying me back inside toward the warmth of the sunlit bedroom.
I looked into the face of the man who had caught the whip, who had broken an entire dynasty to protect my dignity, and who had crowned my scars with diamonds.
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I had spent my life surviving in the dark.
Now, I was the light of the Moretti empire—and I would never stand in anyone’s shadow again.
