Chapter 10 - The Moretti Table
That evening, as twilight painted the sky in brilliant shades of purple, crimson, and gold, our family gathered at the long wooden dining table on the back lawn of Dominic's estate.
The table was loaded with traditional Italian dishes—bowls of fresh handmade pasta, platters of roasted vegetables, fresh bread, and decanters of fine red wine.
There were no high-society guests tonight. No corporate executives, no news cameras, and no grand speeches.
There were only six seats around the table.
Matteo was at the head of the table, loudly arguing with Nico about the best way to grill sea bass, while Gabriel sat beside them, laughing as he showed Luca photos of a new sailboat he was planning to buy for the family's summer trips.
Dominic sat at the other end of the table, pouring a glass of red wine and sliding it across the linen tablecloth toward me.
I picked up the glass, looking at the dark red liquid shining under the warm patio lights.
Six months ago, red wine on a dress had been used as an excuse to chain me, humiliate me, and try to break my spirit.
Tonight, it was simply wine—shared at a table of love, freedom, and absolute safety.
"Are you happy, El?" Dominic asked softly, his sharp grey eyes resting on me with deep, paternal warmth.
I looked around the table at my five brothers—the men who had spent their lives building shields around me, the men who had dropped everything the second I called, the men who had shown the world what happened when anyone dared hurt their sister.
I took a slow sip of the wine, setting the glass down gently on the wooden table.
"I'm not just happy, Dominic," I said, reaching out to take his hand and squeezing it tightly. "I am free."
Nico held up his glass, interrupting Matteo's cooking debate. "Hey! A toast!"
All five of my brothers stood up from their chairs, raising their glasses high into the evening air.
"To Elena Moretti," Luca declared, his voice filled with pride. "The strongest of us all."
"To Elena!" they shouted together, their laughter ringing out clear and loud into the quiet summer night.
May you like
I stood up, holding my glass high beside theirs, looking up at the stars beginning to glitter in the clear night sky above us.
The storm was over. The debt was paid. And my life had finally begun.
