Chapter 18 - The Family TableThat evening, the Moretti family gathered at the original estate on the North Side—the historic stone house where our parents had raised us.
The grand dining room table was laden with roasted meats, fresh pasta, crusty bread, and bottles of vintage wine from our family’s private vineyard in Italy.
Dominic sat at the head of the table. Matteo sat to his right, slicing bread; Luca was reviewing a contract while eating; Gabriel was debating stock projections with Nico; and I sat at the center, surrounded by the five men who had built a wall of iron around my life.
Dominic tapped his wine glass with a silver fork, bringing the loud, cheerful room to a quiet pause.
He raised his glass, looking at each of his brothers, before his eyes rested warmly on me.
"To family," Dominic said, his voice deep and filled with profound emotion. "To those who fight for us, those who stand by us, and to our sister, Elena—the strongest Moretti among us."
"To Elena!" my brothers echoed in unison, raising their glasses high.
May you like
I raised my glass, my heart fuller than it had ever been.
"To family," I whispered.
