Chapter 14 - Scars and Vows Beneath the Morning Sun
Forty-eight hours after the battle at Pier 42, the sun broke through the Seattle clouds for the first time in three weeks, casting a warm, golden glow across the waters of Puget Sound.
The Moretti syndicate had collapsed entirely. With Don Moretti dead and their leadership decimated, the remaining factions surrendered their territories to the Castellano family without firing another shot. The underworld war was over.
In the master bedroom of the estate, I sat on the sunlit terrace, watching Emma run across the manicured green lawn with two massive, gentle German Shepherds trotting happily beside her. Her laughter drifted up in the crisp morning air—pure, joyful, and completely unburdened.
A soft sound came from behind me.
Luca stepped onto the terrace. He wore a simple charcoal cashmere sweater and dark trousers, his wounds bandaged beneath his clothes. The lethal predator of the night had retreated, replaced by a man whose eyes held a deep, quiet peace.
He set a cup of hot coffee on the table beside me, then pulled a wooden chair close.
"The federal investigation into your father’s company has been officially closed," Luca said softly. "The Department of Justice cleared Arthur Carter of all wrongdoing. The four million dollars Jake embezzled has been recovered from Moretti’s offshore accounts and transferred into a trust fund for Emma."
I looked at him, a warm tear slipping down my cheek. "You cleared my father's name."
"I fulfilled my promise," Luca murmured.
He reached into his pocket and placed the silver marriage contract on the table between us, along with a pair of silver shears.
"The Morettis are gone," Luca said, his voice low, tinged with a vulnerability I had never heard from him before. "Jake is gone. You and Emma are safe. You have your father's fortune, and you have complete freedom. If you want to dissolve this marriage, if you want to take Emma and build a quiet life away from the shadows... you can cut the contract right now. I will provide everything you ever need, and I will never bother you again."
I stared at the paper.
Then I looked down at the antique silver locket hanging securely around my neck—restored, polished, and whole.
I looked at the man who had carried me when I could not walk, who had shielded my child with his own body, who had loved my family from the shadows for half his life.
I picked up the shears.
Luca’s jaw tightened, bracing himself for the cut.
I tossed the shears over the terrace railing, watching them tumble into the rose bushes below.
Luca’s breath hitched. "Ava?"
I stood up, stepped into his space, and straddled his lap, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders.
"I told you before, Luca Castellano," I whispered, resting my forehead against his. "I don't run from my home. And my home is right here. With you."
Luca let out a ragged breath, his hands coming up to grip my waist, pulling me tightly against his chest as if he would never let go.
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"You are my queen, Ava," he murmured, his lips brushing against mine. "In this life and the next."
When his lips finally met mine, the kiss wasn't born of fear or survival. It was a passionate, breathtaking promise of a future forged in fire and sealed with love.
