Chapter 10 - The True Vow
Three months later.
The morning sun broke over the Atlantic Ocean, floodlighting the private cliffside terrace of the Moretti Estate in Martha’s Vineyard.
The blue waves crashed against the high white rocks below, sending cool sea spray drifting up into the gardens filled with blooming white jasmine and red roses.
I sat at a stone table on the terrace, wearing a white silk robe, sipping dark espresso while reviewing the final legal deeds that had officially restored my father’s accounting firm to my sole ownership, completely cleared of all debt and backed by a five-year corporate contract with Moretti International.
The front doors of the estate opened, and Lucian stepped onto the terrace.
He wore a tailored white linen shirt with the collar unbuttoned, his dark hair slightly windswept, looking more relaxed and handsome than I had ever seen him in the city.
He walked over to my chair, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss against the side of my neck, his hands resting gently on my shoulders.
“You’re up early, Mrs. Moretti,” Lucian murmured into my skin.
I smiled, setting my cup down and leaning back against his chest.
The criminal trial of the Vales had concluded three weeks ago. Adrian had been sentenced to fourteen years in federal prison for grand larceny and fraud, while Camille was serving twelve years in a maximum-security facility. Their assets had been seized, their mansion sold at public auction, and the Vale name erased from high society forever.
“I was just looking over the new quarter reports for Vance Logistics,” I said, turning my head to look at him. “We’re projected to double our fleet by the end of the year.”
Lucian let out a low, smooth laugh, pulling a wooden chair beside mine and taking my hand in his.
“I gave you a multi-million-dollar shipping empire for your birthday, Elena,” Lucian teased softly, his dark eyes sparkling with affection. “And all you can think about is the quarterly audit.”
“I’m an accountant, Lucian,” I reminded him, my fingers intertwining with his. “I like when the numbers balance.”
Lucian grew quiet, his gaze dropping to our joined hands, his expression turning serious, deep, and profoundly real.
“And do they balance now, Elena?” he asked softly. “Are you whole again?”
I looked at him—at the man who had stepped out of the shadows at Saint Jude’s Cathedral not to save a helpless damsel, but to empower a warrior; the man who had stood beside me while I reclaimed my name, my pride, and my life.
I reached up, my hand resting gently against his cheek, feeling the warm, strong line of his jaw.
May you like
“The debt is paid, Lucian,” I whispered, a real, radiant smile lighting up my face. “And for the first time in my life, I’m right where I belong.”
Lucian pulled me into his arms, his mouth meeting mine in a deep, fiery kiss that tasted of sweet espresso, salty ocean breeze, and a future that belonged to us alone.
