Chapter 11 - The Phantom in the Mirror
Three weeks later.
The snow on the Moretti estate had begun to melt under the first warmth of early spring.
The dark limestone walls of the mansion no longer felt like a prison.
The heavy drapes had been pulled open in every room, letting the golden sunlight flood the corridors.
I stood in front of the full-length gilded mirror in the grand foyer.
I wore a simple, tailored ivory dress.
The bandages had finally come off my shoulder yesterday, leaving a neat, pink scar just an inch above the dark crescent moon.
A scar earned saving my brother’s life.
“You look beautiful, Elena,” a voice spoke from the grand staircase.
Lucia walked down the steps slowly, supported by a polished mahogany cane.
Her cheeks were full, her hair brushed into elegant silver waves.
She looked like the matriarch she was always meant to be.
Isabella walked beside her, carrying a long, flat wooden box lined with blue velvet.
“Mom,” I said, stepping forward to take her other arm.
“You shouldn't be walking down the stairs alone.”
Lucia laughed softly, a bright, melodic sound that filled the foyer.
“I spent twenty-two years lying flat on a hospital cot, my sweet girl. I intend to walk every inch of this house while I still have breath.”
They stopped in front of me.
Isabella opened the velvet box.
Inside lay a heavy platinum necklace adorned with sapphires that matched the exact shade of my mother’s old winter coat.
“This belonged to your grandmother,” Lucia said, lifting the heavy jewels with steady hands.
She fastened the clasp around my neck.
The cool platinum rested directly over my scar.
“The Moretti family is whole again,” Lucia whispered, kissing my cheek.
Heavy footsteps sounded across the marble.
Luca entered the foyer.
He wore an impeccably tailored navy suit, looking every inch the undisputed king of Chicago.
Yet the dark, lethal tension that had once permanently lined his face was gone.
He smiled when his eyes met mine.
“The board of trustees just finished their review in Zurich,” Luca announced, walking up to us.
He handed me an embossed leather folder.
“All accounts have been restored. The Bellini syndicate has been completely absorbed.”
He leaned down and kissed Lucia’s forehead, then turned to me.
“And the Sarah Sullivan Memorial Foundation for Underprivileged Youth was officially registered this morning.”
Tears sprang to my eyes.
“You named it after Sarah?”
Luca took my hand, squeezing it with fierce warmth.
“She kept my sister alive. She gave you a soul that this family desperately needed.”
He looked around the bright, sunlit mansion.
“You saved this family, Elena.”
May you like
“No,” I smiled through my tears, looking down at the hospital bracelet still resting safely in the velvet box on the table.
“An old blue coat saved us all.”
