Chapter 6 - First Steps
Three months flew by like a whirlwind of healing and newfound warmth. The once cold and imposing Moretti manor had transformed into a place of laughter. Sofia’s wheelchair was now parked in the corner of the living room, gathering dust.
In the sunlit rehabilitation studio on the east wing, Emily knelt on the padded mat, holding out her hands.
“Come on, Sofia,” Emily encouraged with a bright smile. “Just three steps to me. Look at me, don't look at your feet.”
Sofia took a deep, determined breath. Her small legs, now strong and free of toxins, trembled slightly beneath her pink sundress. She let go of the parallel support bars.
One step.
Two steps.
She wobbled precariously. Emily leaned forward, ready to catch her, but Sofia pushed through the fear, planting her foot down firmly and lunging into Emily’s open arms.
“I did it!” Sofia screamed with joy, wrapping her arms around Emily’s neck. “Emily, I walked! I really walked!”
From the doorway, the sound of slow, deliberate clapping caught their attention.
Luca stood there, leaning against the doorframe, a tender smile touching his lips. There was an unmistakable moisture in his dark eyes as he walked across the room, kneeling down beside them and enveloping both Emily and Sofia in a fierce, protective embrace.
“You’re incredible, my brave girl,” Luca whispered, kissing his daughter’s forehead.
“Emily helped me, Daddy,” Sofia beamed, pulling Emily closer into the hug. “Emily never let me fall.”
As their eyes met over Sofia’s shoulder, Luca’s gaze lingered on Emily’s lips. The air between them crackled with unspoken longing. For months, they had danced around the growing fire between them—late-night conversations over tea in the library, quiet smiles across breakfast tables, the shared laughter over Sofia’s antics.
Emily pulled back slightly, her cheeks flushed with heat, suddenly acutely aware of how close Luca’s face was to hers.
“I... I should prepare lunch,” Emily murmured softly.
Luca caught her hand before she could stand up. His thumb brushed gently over the soft skin of her wrist. “Stay, Emily,” he said, his voice husky. “You don't need to run from me.”
Before Emily could answer, Luca’s phone buzzed sharply on his hip. He glanced at the caller ID, and the warmth in his face vanished, replaced instantly by the icy mask of the Moretti don.
May you like
“Speak,” Luca answered.
Marco’s voice crackled through the speaker, urgent and tense: *“Boss, we have a problem. The Bellini family just sold their Palermo docks to the Corsetti syndicate. And Vanessa was seen entering Lorenzo Corsetti’s private compound an hour ago.”*
