Chapter 5 - The Family Dinner
Two weeks later, the private dining room of a historic mansion in Savannah buzzed with quiet elegance. We hadn't rushed back to New York. Instead, we spent ten days in Georgia—walking through quiet parks, eating ice cream by the river, and letting Lily get used to the idea that the "plane man" wasn't just a stranger from seat 3B, but her father.
Lily sat at the head of the long mahogany table, swinging her patent-leather shoes against the wooden chair legs, happily devouring a plate of spaghetti while wearing a massive white linen napkin tucked securely under her chin.
"More garlic bread, Daddy?" she asked, looking up at me with those silver-gray eyes.
I smiled, passing her the basket. "Only if you finish your broccoli, munchkin."
"Fair trade," she declared solemnly, earning a bright, musical laugh from Naomi, who sat across from me.
Naomi looked transformed over the past two weeks. The perpetual tension in her shoulders was gone, replaced by a radiant, effortless grace. She wore a simple emerald silk dress that brought out the warmth in her skin, her dark curls cascading freely over her shoulders.
Julie, sitting next to Naomi, raised her glass of white wine with a triumphant grin. "To unexpected seat assignments on commercial flights. If the airline hadn't messed up our booking, none of this would have ever happened."
"To airline incompetence," I toasted, clinking my glass against hers.
"And to stubborn graphic designers who refuse to take advice," Naomi added, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked at me.
"Hey, I offered you a multi-million-dollar branding contract for Moretti Holdings," I protested playfully. "You're the one who said my corporate logo looked like a corporate cult symbol."
"Because it does!" Naomi laughed. "It looks like an eye staring down from Mount Doom. I told you, you need more organic shapes."
"We are not redesigning the global corporate identity of Moretti Holdings because my daughter thinks our logo looks scary," I said, though I was smiling so hard my face hurt.
Lily pointed her fork at me. "Mommy is right. You need a bunny logo."
"A bunny logo," I repeated deadpan. "Yes, darling. The underworld of international finance is going to tremble before the mighty pink bunny."
Everyone at the table burst out laughing. For the first time in my life, the massive, terrifying weight of the Moretti name felt entirely weightless. I wasn't just the ruthless syndicate boss, the billionaire investor, or the shadow king of Manhattan.
I was a father.
I was a partner.
I was home.
As dinner wound down and Lily grew sleepy, resting her head against Naomi’s shoulder with her stuffed rabbit clutched in her small hand, Naomi looked across the table at me, her expression softening into something infinitely tender.
"Are we really going back to New York tomorrow?" she asked softly.
"Only if you're ready," I said, reaching across the table to take her hand, interlacing my fingers with hers. "My penthouse in Manhattan is big enough for three. But if you want to keep your studio here in Savannah, we keep it. If you want a house in the mountains, we build it. Anywhere you are, Naomi... that's where my home is."
May you like
She squeezed my hand, a radiant smile breaking across her face.
"New York sounds fine," she whispered. "As long as we never fly coach again."
