Chapter 14 - WHAT HE GAVE UP
Six months later, Dominic Moretti sold nearly half his company.
Not because he had to.
Because he chose to.
The headlines called it shocking.
Some called it surrender.
Others called it damage control.
They didn’t know him.
Not the way I did.
He used part of the money to settle claims connected to his father’s old businesses.
Another part funded legal assistance for families harmed by corrupt property deals.
He handed investigators everything.
Names.
Accounts.
Documents.
People went to prison.
A former judge.
Two retired police officials.
Three construction executives.
Peter Sloan.
Gabriel accepted a plea agreement in exchange for testimony.
Robert Cole’s body was eventually found.
Peter had killed him after the birthday party because Cole had become a loose end.
Daniel survived.
He entered treatment for gambling addiction.
I didn’t forgive him overnight.
That’s not how real forgiveness works.
You don’t hug someone once and erase what happened.
He had put Lily in danger.
He knew it.
I knew it.
We started with phone calls.
Then coffee.
Then therapy.
Slow.
Messy.
Real.
Lily returned to preschool.
Within three days, she was complaining that a boy named Mason stole her purple crayon.
Apparently attempted murder was easier to recover from than preschool injustice.
Ethan changed too.
He talked more.
Asked questions.
Argued with his father.
That last one was probably my influence.
One afternoon, I found them in the kitchen.
Dominic was making grilled cheese.
Badly.
Smoke drifted toward the ceiling.
“What happened?”
He looked offended.
“Nothing.”
I pointed toward the black bread.
“That sandwich died.”
Ethan laughed.
“I told him.”
Dominic dropped it in the trash.
“You make one mistake—”
“Three,” Ethan said.
“Traitor.”
Lily climbed onto a chair.
“I want pizza.”
“Excellent,” Dominic said. “We’re ordering food.”
I watched them.
Something warm settled in my chest.
I had planned to move out.
I really had.
After the investigations calmed down, I found an apartment.
Two bedrooms.
Good school district.
Thirty minutes away.
I signed the lease.
Then I told Dominic.
He didn’t react for several seconds.
“When?”
“Next month.”
Lily looked horrified.
“We’re leaving Ethan?”
“Sweetheart—”
“No.”
She folded her arms.
“I live here.”
Dominic coughed to hide a smile.
“You do not.”
“Yes.”
“Lily.”
She looked at Dominic.
“Tell Mommy.”
I stared at him.
“Choose carefully.”
He raised both hands.
“I’m staying out of this.”
Smart man.
That night, after the children were asleep, Dominic found me on the back terrace.
“You’re really leaving.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I need my own life.”
“You have one.”
“Here I’m still technically your employee.”
“You haven’t worked as my housekeeper in six months.”
“Exactly.”
He stood beside me.
Cold air.
Quiet garden.
No guards close enough to hear us.
“What do you want, Anna?”
He had asked me that once before.
Back then I didn’t know.
This time I did.
“I want stability.”
He nodded.
“I want Lily to grow up without feeling like someone might come through the door with a gun.”
“Same.”
“I want work that’s mine.”
“Good.”
“And I don’t want to spend my life wondering whether I stayed here because I was scared to leave.”
Dominic looked toward the garden.
“That makes sense.”
I almost wished he would argue.
Instead, he reached into his jacket.
My heart jumped.
If that man pulled out a ring, I was going to throw him into the pool.
He pulled out an envelope.
“What’s that?”
“A job offer.”
I laughed.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Read it.”
I opened it.
Moretti Family Foundation.
Director of Child Safety and Community Programs.
I looked at him.
“You made up a job for me?”
“No.”
“You absolutely did.”
“We need someone running it.”
“With no college degree?”
“You managed ninety employees in my house.”
“Eighty-three.”
“Exactly.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It makes enough.”
I looked at the salary.
Then looked again.
“Dominic.”
“What?”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Negotiable.”
“Down?”
“No one negotiates down.”
“I might.”
He smiled.
I folded the paper.
“And if I say no?”
“Then you move into your apartment.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“No punishment?”
His smile vanished.
“Anna.”
His voice softened.
“You were never a prisoner here.”
“I know.”
“And you don’t owe me anything because Lily saved Ethan.”
“I know.”
“And you definitely don’t owe me anything because I got shot.”
“Twice.”
“One bullet.”
“One reopening.”
He sighed.
“Can we stop counting?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
Then, very quietly, he said:
“I don’t want you to stay because you feel obligated.”
My chest tightened.
“Why do you want me to stay?”
He held my eyes.
And for once, Dominic Moretti—man who could negotiate billion-dollar deals without blinking—looked nervous.
“Because when you’re not here, the house feels empty.”
I didn’t know what to say.
So naturally, that was when Lily screamed from upstairs.
“ETHAN STOLE MY BUNNY!”
We both laughed.
Dominic started toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Anna?”
“Yes?”
“I meant what I said.”
May you like
He went inside.
And I stood alone beneath the terrace lights, realizing leaving suddenly felt much harder than staying.
