Chapter 9 - THE DAY LUCA CHOSE US
The courthouse steps were packed.
News vans lined the street.
People shouted Luca's name before he even stepped from the SUV.
I watched from another vehicle.
I wasn't required to testify that morning.
Luca was.
Against Isabella.
Against the woman who raised him.
The woman who built half the mythology surrounding Moretti Global.
For days, financial analysts speculated he would protect her.
Family first.
Moretti loyalty.
Private settlement.
Quiet deal.
They didn't know the Luca I had been watching change.
Neither did Isabella.
Inside the courtroom, Luca took the oath.
I sat in the back.
Evelyn sat three rows ahead.
Our eyes met once.
She gave a small nod.
The prosecutor began.
“Mr. Moretti, did your mother ever tell you Ms. Carter attempted to inform you she was pregnant?”
“No.”
“When did you learn?”
“Six years later.”
“Where?”
“In a restaurant.”
“After seeing the children?”
“Yes.”
“How did that make you feel?”
Isabella's attorney objected.
Overruled.
Luca looked toward me.
Then toward his mother.
“Like I'd woken up inside someone else's life.”
The courtroom went silent.
The prosecutor showed the forged medical report.
“Did you rely on this document when your marriage deteriorated?”
“Yes.”
“Was it authentic?”
“No.”
“Did you ask your wife whether the diagnosis was real?”
Luca swallowed.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Pride.”
His attorney shifted uncomfortably.
Luca continued anyway.
“I was angry. I believed people I trusted. I convinced myself confrontation would only lead to excuses.”
I held my breath.
“What would you do differently?”
“Ask my wife.”
One simple sentence.
Six lost years.
The prosecutor showed my pregnancy letter.
“Had you received this, what would you have done?”
Isabella looked away.
Luca didn't hesitate.
“I would have gone to her.”
“And the children?”
“I would have been there before they were born.”
My eyes filled.
“Would you have reconciled with Ms. Carter?”
The defense objected.
The judge allowed a limited answer.
Luca looked at me.
“I don't know.”
That surprised everyone.
Especially me.
He continued.
“Our marriage had real problems. Some were caused by lies from outside people. Some were caused by me.”
His voice stayed steady.
“But whether Nia forgave me or not, I would have been their father.”
The prosecutor approached.
“Mr. Moretti, your mother claims she acted because she feared Ms. Carter would use the children to gain control over your finances.”
Luca laughed softly.
“Nia left our marriage with less than she was legally entitled to.”
I remembered.
I had refused half the things Luca offered.
Money felt dirty then.
“She never asked me for additional money after the divorce.”
“Did she seek child support?”
“No.”
“Did she ever contact the press?”
“No.”
“Did she attempt to use the twins to return to your life?”
“No.”
“So in your opinion, was Isabella Moretti protecting you?”
Luca looked at his mother.
“No.”
“What was she doing?”
“Controlling me.”
Isabella's face tightened.
The prosecutor sat.
Then came the defense.
They attacked me.
Of course.
Why hadn't I tried harder?
Why hadn't I demanded a face-to-face meeting?
Why had I believed one document?
Why hadn't I sued Luca for support?
Why had I allowed six years to pass?
Every question reopened wounds.
Then Isabella's attorney asked Luca something he clearly thought would help.
“Mr. Moretti, isn't it true Ms. Carter could have found a way to reach you if she'd truly wanted to?”
Luca stared at him.
“She called eleven times.”
The lawyer paused.
“She wrote emails.”
“Yes, but—”
“She sent letters.”
“Mr. Moretti—”
“She physically came to my building.”
The attorney tried again.
“But she never reached you personally.”
Luca leaned forward.
“Because the people controlling access to me made sure she couldn't.”
Silence.
Then he added, “The most powerful man in Chicago turned out to be extremely easy to manipulate.”
Even the judge looked up.
Isabella's expression cracked.
For perhaps the first time in her life, her son wasn't protecting the Moretti image.
He was destroying it himself.
After testimony, I waited in a private hallway.
Luca emerged.
He looked exhausted.
“You didn't have to say everything you did.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You made yourself look terrible.”
“I was terrible.”
“Not entirely.”
He studied me.
“That almost sounded like forgiveness.”
“Don't get excited.”
He smiled.
I smiled back.
Then a reporter somehow entered the hallway.
“Mr. Moretti!”
Security moved immediately.
The reporter shouted, “Are you and Ms. Carter reconciling?”
I froze.
Luca didn't answer.
“Are you leaving your wife for the mother of your children?”
Evelyn appeared behind us.
The cruelty of the question made me angry for her.
She answered first.
“He isn't leaving me.”
The reporter turned.
Evelyn continued calmly.
“Our marriage ended because of choices I made.”
Cameras lifted.
“I participated in hiding information Luca had a right to know.”
The hallway went silent.
“I hurt him. I hurt Nia. And indirectly, I hurt two children.”
Her voice shook.
“But no woman should be blamed because a man discovers he still loves someone else.”
I stared at her.
She looked at me.
“I hope someday those children know their mother fought for them when everyone around her had more money and more power.”
Then Evelyn walked away.
That was the last time I ever saw her as Luca Moretti's wife.
Three months later, Isabella accepted a plea agreement on several charges while continuing to contest others.
Charles Shaw was indicted for conspiracy, fraud and illegal payments connected to Gabriel's actions.
Dr. Keller was cleared.
Rebecca Lane lost her medical administration license and entered a cooperation agreement.
Moretti Global survived.
Barely.
Luca returned as CEO after the board investigation cleared him of participation.
But something had changed.
He sold the penthouse.
“Too many ghosts,” he said.
He bought a house ten minutes from mine instead.
Not next door.
Thank God.
Close enough for school pickups.
Far enough that I could breathe.
We created a parenting schedule.
At first, Luca had dinner with the twins twice a week.
Then Saturdays.
Then occasional overnight weekends.
He attended Ava's school play.
He arrived twenty minutes early.
Noah scored his first soccer goal.
Luca shouted so loudly the referee warned him.
My mother laughed for three days.
Life became strangely normal.
Then came Ava's seventh birthday.
We held it at my house.
Nothing luxurious.
Pizza.
Balloons.
A magician who accidentally frightened Noah with a fake snake.
Luca arrived carrying one small gift.
I stared.
“One?”
He looked offended.
“You told me not to overdo it.”
“I expected you to interpret that as twenty.”
“Therapy.”
I laughed.
Ava opened the gift.
A handmade wooden jewelry box.
Inside was a photograph.
The first photo of all four of us together.
Taken at Noah's soccer game.
Ava hugged Luca.
“Thank you, Dad.”
His eyes filled.
He pretended they didn't.
Later, after everyone left, Luca helped me clean.
“You don't have to.”
“I know.”
“You have people who clean entire hotels.”
“They don't work here.”
He washed plates badly.
I dried them.
It felt dangerously familiar.
“Luca.”
“Yes?”
“We need to talk.”
He stopped.
That man could negotiate hostile acquisitions without blinking, but those four words terrified him.
“Okay.”
I set down the towel.
“You said months ago that you still loved me.”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“Yes.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
My heart accelerated.
“And you haven't asked me to come back.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because loving you doesn't entitle me to you.”
I looked away.
“You've really been listening to that therapist.”
“She charges enough.”
I laughed.
Then I became serious.
“I love you too.”
Luca stopped breathing.
“But.”
His eyes closed.
“Of course there's a but.”
“I don't love the man who left me.”
He nodded.
“I understand.”
“And I will never be that woman again.”
“I don't want you to be.”
I looked at him.
“I love the man I've been watching become a father.”
His eyes opened.
“And I don't know what that means yet.”
“Neither do I.”
“I'm scared.”
“So am I.”
That was when he walked closer.
Slowly.
Giving me every chance to step back.
“Nia.”
“Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Once, Luca would have assumed.
Now he asked.
That difference mattered more than he knew.
I whispered, “Yes.”
The kiss was nothing like our old kisses.
It wasn't desperate.
It wasn't ownership.
It wasn't nostalgia.
It was careful.
Almost shy.
When we separated, he rested his forehead against mine.
Then someone gasped from the hallway.
We turned.
Ava stood there.
Eyes enormous.
Behind her, Noah whispered, “I knew it.”
“Ava,” I said.
She pointed.
“You kissed Dad!”
“It is past your bedtime.”
“YOU KISSED DAD!”
Luca started laughing.
Noah ran upstairs yelling, “Grandma owes me ten dollars!”
I stared at Luca.
“Why does my son have a bet with my mother?”
“I have no idea.”
“You're smiling.”
“So are you.”
I was.
For the first time in years, hope didn't feel like something dangerous.
Then Luca's phone rang.
His smile disappeared.
He answered.
“What?”
His face changed.
I felt the old fear return.
“What happened?”
He disconnected slowly.
“That was the hospital.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
“My mother.”
I said nothing.
“She collapsed in custody.”
“Is she okay?”
“I don't know.”
He looked torn.
Of course he did.
No matter what Isabella had done, she was still the woman who had raised him.
“Go,” I said.
He stared at me.
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
He grabbed his coat.
At the door, he turned.
“Nia.”
“What?”
“If she asks me to forgive her, I don't know if I can.”
I walked closer.
“Forgiveness isn't pretending something didn't happen.”
He nodded.
“And it isn't always for the person who hurt you.”
His eyes softened.
Then he left.
I watched through the window as his car disappeared.
What I didn't know was that Isabella Moretti had collapsed with one final secret in her possession.
May you like
A secret about Luca's father.
A secret that would change the Moretti family one last time.
