Chapter 14 - Healing Old Wounds
On the eve of our wedding, Luca took me down to the sub-basement of the penthouse—the very room that had once housed dark secrets and terror.
The wine cellar had been completely redesigned.
The hidden escape hatches and cold concrete had been replaced with warm Tuscan limestone, custom cedar racking, and a magnificent family tasting table crafted from reclaimed oak.
Mounted on the central wall, encased in museum-grade ultraviolet protective glass, was the cracked red leather discipline ledger from 1994.
Beneath the glass, a brass plaque was inscribed with Helen Parker’s words:
“Ink never forgets. Truth never dies. Love never fails.”
Luca wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin against my shoulder as we looked at the artifact that had brought us together.
“Are you ready for tomorrow, Mrs. Moretti?” he whispered in my ear.
May you like
I turned in his arms, smiling up into the eyes of the man who had given me a whole new world.
“I was ready the moment you ate that chocolate cake, Luca,” I replied softly.
