Chapter 10 - The Sovereign's Vow
One year after the wedding in Sicily.
The 46th floor of Moretti Tower in Manhattan was quiet once more, bathed in the golden amber of a late autumn sunset.
Through the floor-to-ceiling glass, Manhattan stretched out in all its glorious, glittering majesty.
Inside the executive suite, the door between the outer office and Luca’s private sanctuary was no longer made of glass. It had been replaced with double doors of carved Sicilian walnut, permanently left wide open.
Luca sat at his massive wenge desk, reviewing the annual logistics reports for the newly merged Romano-Moretti Global Maritime Syndicate. The company was now the largest private shipping enterprise in the world, operating with untouchable legitimacy and defended by the most formidable network in history.
A soft knock sounded on the open walnut door.
Luca looked up.
Isabella stood in the doorway.
She wore a tailored cream silk suit, her dark hair pinned up with a single gold hairpin. But her silhouette had changed. Beneath the silk jacket, her abdomen swelled with the gentle, beautiful curve of seven months of pregnancy.
Luca immediately closed his laptop, rising from his desk with the fierce, protective instinct that now defined his every waking second.
"You shouldn't be on your feet," Luca scolded gently, walking across the room to meet her, slipping his arm around her waist and kissing her softly on the lips. "Marco told me you spent two hours auditing the Genoa manifests."
"Our son kicked every time the port fees were entered incorrectly," Isabella laughed, resting her head against his shoulder. "He's already inherited your obsession with shipping margins."
Luca smiled, a deep, contented warmth filling his chest. He knelt down, pressing his face gently against the silk of her dress, kissing the curve of her stomach.
"He will inherit your wisdom, Bella," Luca murmured against her skin. "And your courage."
Isabella ran her slender fingers through his dark hair, looking down at her husband with complete, absolute adoration.
She reached into her blazer pocket, pulling out a small object.
The small brass office key struck the black walnut desk with a clean, metallic click.
Luca looked up, his brow furrowing playfully. "What is that?"
Isabella smiled down at him, her eyes dancing with the memory of the night their journey had truly begun.
"I'm officially resigning as your executive assistant, Mr. Moretti," she whispered, leaning down to press her lips to his jaw. "The position is permanently closed."
Luca rose to his feet, pulling her tight against his heart, his hands resting gently over the new life growing between them.
May you like
He picked up the small brass key, walked over to the open window overlooking the great city they ruled together, and tossed it into the decorative bronze urn on his credenza.
"Good," Luca whispered, turning back to capture her lips in a deep, passionate kiss as the lights of New York flared to life beneath them. "Because from now on, my love, you don't work for the empire. You are the empire."
