Chapter 18 - The Don's Decree
When Nora and Lorenzo walked into the grand salon, the room was bathed in golden afternoon sunlight. The massive fireplace crackled merrily, filling the air with the comforting scent of cedar and pine.
Giovanni sat in the high-backed velvet armchair, looking every bit the patriarch. Dressed in a tailored gray suit, his silver hair neatly styled, he held a thick leather binder stamped with the official Moretti family crest. Beside him sat Lily on a small cushion, happily playing with wooden blocks.
"Sit down, both of you," Giovanni commanded with a warm but authoritative wave of his hand.
Nora and Lorenzo took their seats on the sofa across from him.
"Two years ago," Giovanni began, his voice deep and measured, "this family was bleeding to death. Not from external enemies, but from coldness. We had plenty of soldiers, plenty of money, and no soul. Then an angel walked into room 4B with a bowl of soup and an old blanket."
Nora felt tears prick the corners of her eyes, but Giovanni held up his hand to stop her from speaking.
"Don't interrupt your elder, child," Giovanni said with a wink. "I have consulted with our family counsel, our financial trustees, and the elders of our legitimate holdings. Today, I signed the final restructuring of the Moretti holdings."
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. "What kind of restructuring, Dad?"
Giovanni opened the binder and slid two official legal documents across the mahogany table.
"First," Giovanni said, looking at Lorenzo. "The syndicates are finished. All remaining contracts have been legally liquidated or transferred into the Moretti Logistics and Real Estate Trust. We are out of the shadows forever. You are a corporate CEO now, Lorenzo, not an underworld boss."
Lorenzo sighed, a profound weight visibly lifting from his shoulders. "I've waited five years to hear you say that."
"Second," Giovanni continued, turning his gaze onto Nora. "Thirty percent of the voting shares of the entire Moretti conglomerate are hereby transferred into an irrevocable trust held jointly by Nora Vance and her daughter, Lily."
Nora gasped, pressing her hands to her chest. "John, no! That's millions of dollars! I can't accept that! It belongs to Lorenzo, to your family!"
"You are my family, Nora," Giovanni said, his voice thick with emotion. "You gave me back my voice. You gave me back my son. You gave this lonely old man a granddaughter who brings laughter to halls that only knew fear for fifty years. If anything, thirty percent is an insult to what you have given us."
Lorenzo looked at the contract, then looked at Nora. A slow, breathtaking smile spread across his handsome face. He reached out and gently took Nora’s hand, lacing his fingers through hers.
"Take it, Nora," Lorenzo said softly. "My father is right. But there is one detail the contract is missing."
Nora looked between them, confused. "What detail?"
Lorenzo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet black box. He dropped to one knee before the sofa, opening the lid to reveal a stunning, flawless emerald-cut diamond ring surrounded by platinum filigree.
Nora’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
"Lorenzo..." she choked out.
"Nora," Lorenzo said, his voice vibrating with absolute conviction. "I fell in love with your courage the day you stood up to Gable. I fell in love with your compassion every time I saw you look at my father. And I fell in love with your grace every second you spent in this house. I don't want you to just be a trustee of this family. I want you to be my partner. My equal. My wife."
He looked up into her tear-filled brown eyes.
"Will you marry me, Nora? Will you let me spend the rest of my life protecting you and Lily?"
Lily abandoned her wooden blocks and toddled over, leaning against Lorenzo’s knee and looking up with wide, curious eyes. "Mama pretty!"
Nora burst into tears of pure, overwhelming joy. She threw her arms around Lorenzo’s neck, pulling him close as he caught her in an embrace that felt like the safest shelter on earth.
"Yes," Nora sobbed against his shoulder. "Yes, Lorenzo! A thousand times, yes!"
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From his armchair, Don Giovanni slammed his walking stick against the floor in thunderous celebration, a wide, triumphant grin lighting up his weathered face.
"Now that," Giovanni shouted happily, "is how a Moretti seals a contract!"
