Chapter 8 - The Return to the Streets
Six months later, Moretti Logistics launched its newest twenty-million-dollar maritime expansion terminal along the Red Hook shipping channel.
The grand opening event was held on the outdoor deck overlooking the Statue of Liberty. Hundreds of corporate partners, shipping executives, city officials, and international logistics directors gathered beneath white silk canopies.
There were no crystal chandeliers. There were no fake high-society snobs. There was only real power, real business, and real respect.
I stood at the podium, wearing a sharp navy-blue dress, addressing the crowd of three hundred guests.
“Twelve years ago,” I said into the microphone, my voice steady and strong, “my brothers and I stood on these same docks with nothing except a single truck and a promise that we would never let anyone dictate our future.”
I looked out at the front row, where Luca, Dominic, Marco, Mateo, and Leo stood together, watching me with quiet, proud smiles.
“Logistics isn't just about moving cargo,” I continued, looking out over the water. “It’s about building networks that cannot be broken. It’s about knowing who stands beside you when the weather turns bad. And most importantly... it’s about knowing that no matter how hard the storm hits, the ground beneath your feet belongs to you.”
The crowd erupted into applause.
After my speech, I walked through the crowd, shaking hands with international trade representatives and confirming new shipping contracts.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden light across the harbor, Luca walked up beside me, handing me a glass of sparkling water.
“You ran that meeting like Dad used to,” Luca murmured, looking out at the cargo ships.
“Dad would be proud,” I said softly.
“He would,” Luca agreed. He paused, glancing down at me. “I got a letter in the mail today from Adrian’s legal team at Rikers.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What did it say?”
“He’s requesting a visitation meeting,” Luca said flatly. “He wants to ask for a reduction in his civil restitution payments.”
I took a small sip of my water, watching a tugboat pull a barge across the bay.
“Tell them no,” I said smoothly.
May you like
Luca smiled. “Already did.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I don't look backward anymore.”
