Chapter 7 - The Empire Rebuilt
Six months later.
The spring sun warmed the stone courtyard of the Ashford Foundation—which had been officially renamed the Elena Vance Memorial Foundation in honor of my mother.
The building had undergone a complete renovation. The fraudulent ledgers were gone, replaced by fully audited, transparent charitable programs that funded children’s hospitals, educational scholarships, and community centers across the city.
I sat at my desk in the executive office on the top floor, reviewing the quarterly grant proposals, when the heavy oak door swung open without a knock.
Luca walked in, carrying two cups of takeaway coffee and a paper bag filled with fresh pastries from our favorite bakery downtown.
“You’re working too hard,” Luca said, setting the coffee and pastries down on my desk before leaning over to kiss the top of my head.
“Somebody has to keep the empire running while you’re out intimidating politicians,” I replied, smiling up at him as I closed my laptop.
In the months since Damian’s arrest and my father’s bankruptcy trial—which resulted in a five-year prison sentence for fraud—Luca and I had consolidated control over the downtown shipping corridors and financial networks. The Moretti syndicate and my newly restructured holdings operated as a unified, legitimate corporate powerhouse with absolute dominion over the city's trade.
My father was currently serving time in a minimum-security facility in upstate New York. I visited him once—not out of obligation, but to hand him a single copy of the foundation's new annual report, showing millions of dollars going to actual charities instead of his personal gambling accounts. He didn't say a word. He just stared at the floor, finally learning what real silence felt like.
“So,” Luca said, pulling up a chair and sitting down opposite me, resting his arms on the desk. “Are we taking the weekend off? I booked a private yacht down in the Mediterranean. Just the two of us. No ledgers, no feds, no enemies.”
I leaned back in my leather chair, a slow smile spreading across my face.
“Only if we stop in Paris first,” I said. “I need to buy a new dress.”
Luca laughed—a rich, genuine sound that I had come to cherish more than anything else in the world. He reached across the desk, taking my hand in his, his fingers intertwined with mine, warm and steady.
May you like
“Any dress you want, Eliana,” he promised softly. “As long as you don't have to run in it.”
“I’m done running,” I answered, squeezing his hand back. “From now on, everyone else runs from us.”
