Chapter 8 - Mother’s Terms
The victory at the Vance estate felt like a monumental triumph, but as the sun began to peek over the Atlantic horizon, painting the Boston sky in hues of pale pink and gold, I knew the hardest battle was still ahead.
Julian Vance was neutralized. The federal amber alert had been officially rescinded following a 'misunderstanding' statement released by the Vance legal team under my duress.
But Victoria Moretti was still waiting.
Our motorcade pulled up to the private terminal at Logan Airport, where two sleek private jets sat on the tarmac. One was mine. The other belonged to my mother.
Standing near the mobile staircase of her jet, surrounded by four towering guards in crisp black suits, was Victoria. She wore a tailored charcoal coat, her silvering hair pulled back into an immaculate bun, holding a crystal glass of sparkling water despite the early morning hour.
Evelyn held my hand tightly as we stepped out of the SUV. Leo and Maya were awake now, sitting quietly in the back seats under the watchful eye of Marcus.
“Stay behind me,” I whispered to Evelyn as we approached my mother.
Victoria set her glass down on a small silver tray held by an assistant and stepped forward. Her sharp eyes immediately dismissed me and locked onto Evelyn.
“Evelyn,” Victoria said, her tone smooth, cool, and devoid of any maternal warmth. “You look tired. Boston air clearly hasn't agreed with you.”
“I’m doing just fine, Victoria,” Evelyn replied, her voice remarkably steady. She didn't flinch under my mother’s intimidating stare this time. “Better now that your family is out of my life.”
Victoria let out a light, icy laugh. “Out of your life? My dear girl, you are carrying my grandchildren’s blood. You will never be out of my life.”
I stepped directly into my mother’s line of sight, blocking Evelyn from her view. “The papers are signed, Victoria. Julian Vance is out of the picture. The kids are legally mine and Evelyn’s.”
“They are Morettis, Adrian!” Victoria snapped, her calm facade cracking, revealing the iron matriarch beneath. “They belong in Chicago! They belong in the estate where they can be properly educated, protected, and prepared for their inheritance!”
“They belong with their mother and father,” I corrected her sharply.
Victoria stared at me, astonished. “Father? You call yourself a father? You’ve been here for twenty-four hours! I have spent three years maintaining the family’s stability while you moped around Chicago like a ghost!”
“I allowed you to run the family business because I didn't care about anything anymore!” I shouted, my voice echoing across the wet tarmac. “I thought I had destroyed the only thing that mattered to me! But I’m awake now, Mother. And I am taking back control.”
Victoria scoffed, taking a step closer to me. “You think you can just walk away from the syndicate? You think our enemies in Chicago will let you live a quiet little suburban life in Boston with a flower shop girl and two toddlers? The Outfit will eat you alive the second they sense softness!”
“Let them try,” I growled, my jaw clenching. “I spent fifteen years building a network that runs itself. I am stepping down as active boss of the Chicago family. Marcus will handle operations on the ground.”
Marcus, standing near the SUV, looked up in shock, but he slowly nodded, accepting the weight of the responsibility.
“You’re abandoning your birthright for her?” Victoria hissed, pointing a trembling, manicured finger at Evelyn.
“I’m not abandoning anything,” I said calmly. “I’m choosing my family over your war. For thirty-nine years, Victoria, I lived my life trying to earn your approval. I became a cold, unfeeling monster because you taught me that love was weakness. Look where it got me. I nearly missed the lives of my own children.”
Tears welled up in Victoria’s eyes—not of grief, but of pure rage and pride. She looked past me at the dark windows of the SUV, where little Maya’s face was pressed against the glass, waving innocently at the big airplanes on the tarmac.
Victoria’s posture visibly softened for a split second. She saw her own bloodline looking back at her.
“They need security, Adrian,” Victoria whispered, her voice cracking slightly with rare genuine emotion. “Our enemies... they are brutal.”
“I will protect them better than anyone,” I promised her softly. “Because unlike you, Mother... I’m not protecting an empire. I’m protecting my soul.”
Victoria stood silent for a long moment, the wind whipping her coat around her ankles. She looked at me, really looked at me, perhaps seeing for the first time that I was no longer the son she could manipulate. I was a man who had found his purpose.
She slowly drew a deep breath, smoothing her coat.
“If I find out those children are in danger for even one second, Adrian,” Victoria warned, her voice dropping into a stern, final tone, “I will return. And I will not be as patient.”
Without another word, Victoria turned on her heel and walked up the stairs into her private jet. The heavy door sealed shut behind her, and five minutes later, her plane taxied down the runway and lifted off into the morning sky, heading back to Chicago.
Evelyn let out a long, shaky breath, sinking her head against my shoulder. “Is she really gone?”
“For now,” I said, wrapping my arm around her waist. “She’ll be back for holidays... whether we like it or not.”
Evelyn let out a soft, genuine laugh—the first real laugh I had heard from her in three years. It sounded like music in the morning air.
She turned to look up at me, her dark eyes shining with a mixture of fatigue and hope. “So... what now, Mr. Moretti?”
May you like
I looked at the SUV, where Leo was pressing his wooden red car against the window, and Maya was laughing. Then I looked back at the woman I had loved and lost, and somehow had been given a second chance to fight for.
“Now,” I said gently, taking her hand in mine, “I buy a house in Boston. And I ask my ex-wife if I can take her out on a first date.”
