Chapter 13 - The New Morning
Two weeks later, the Moretti estate on Long Island was formally reopened under a new era.
The dark, forbidding atmosphere that had hung over the polished stone floors and mahogany hallways was completely gone. Color had returned to the rooms. The forbidden medical wing on the second floor was converted into a magnificent, sunlit playroom filled with toys, books, and a grand piano.
Isabella stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, wearing a soft gray dress instead of her rigid black uniform, watching Mia run across the polished marble floor holding her gray stuffed rabbit.
"No running on the marble, young lady!" Isabella called out, though a massive, genuine smile was plastered across her face.
Mia stopped, giggled, and trotted over to Isabella, hugging her legs. "Is Uncle Lorenzo home?"
"He is in his study, sweetie," Isabella said, lifting the little girl into her arms. "Go see him."
I walked out of the kitchen holding a tray of morning coffee, wearing simple, comfortable clothes instead of a maid's uniform. I wasn't an employee anymore. I was the mistress of the house, the mother of the Moretti heiress, and the woman who held Lorenzo's complete trust.
I walked into the study.
Lorenzo was sitting behind his grand oak desk, reviewing corporate shipping documents. He looked healthier, the color returned to his skin, his hair neatly trimmed, wearing a charcoal suit without a tie.
When he saw me enter, he set his pen down, his eyes softening into that warm, possessive gaze that always made my heart flutter.
"Good morning, Clara," he said softly.
"Good morning, Lorenzo," I replied, setting the coffee cup on his desk.
He reached out, grabbing my wrist gently—not like Matteo had grabbed it, but with infinite tenderness—and pulled me around the desk until I was standing between his knees.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, looking up into my eyes.
"I slept eight hours," I smiled. "I haven't slept eight hours since Mia was born."
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Lorenzo leaned up, pressing a warm, lingering kiss against my palm, his dark eyes fixed onto mine with deep devotion.
"You will never have to work a night shift in a laundry room again, Clara," he promised softly. "This house, my family, and my life belong to you and Mia."
