Chapter 8 - A Seat at the Table
Two weeks passed.
The scandal broke across the financial news like a tidal wave: *FAUX HEIRESS ARRESTED IN ATTEMPTED CONSERVATORSHIP FRAUD OF MORETTI SHIPPING DYNASTY.* Victoria Campbell was indicted on nine federal counts, denied bail, and remanded to the Metropolitan Correctional Center awaiting trial.
The Moretti estate had changed completely.
The heavy velvet drapes that Victoria had installed to create an atmosphere of suffocating formality were torn down, letting the bright autumn sunlight flood across the polished marble. Flowers filled every vase—not the stiff, imported white orchids Victoria preferred, but wild, fragrant hydrangeas and yellow roses that Mrs. Moretti loved.
I was no longer wearing a grey maid’s uniform.
I sat at the long mahogany dining table in the private east solarium, wearing a simple navy wool dress, my left arm resting comfortably in a soft silk sling. Mrs. Moretti sat at the head of the table, looking radiant in a lavender knit sweater, pouring tea from an antique silver pot.
Luca sat opposite me, reviewing a thick stack of legal documents.
"The Northwestern bursar's office received a full endowment payment yesterday morning, Sophie," Luca said casually, turning a page. "Your sister Clara’s remaining two years of undergraduate tuition, plus her housing and meal plan, have been paid in full."
I nearly dropped my teacup. "Luca! No—I told you, I couldn't accept that! That's over sixty thousand dollars!"
"It isn't a gift, my dear," Eleanor said smoothly, sliding a warm croissant onto my plate with a conspiratorial wink. "It's a signing bonus."
I blinked, confused. "A signing bonus for what? I haven't been able to dust a single bookshelf in two weeks."
"You aren't dusting anything ever again," Luca said, sliding the top document across the table to stop directly before me.
I looked down at the header: *THE ELEANOR MORETTI COMMUNITY FOUNDATION — EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR CONTRACT.*
"We are creating an independent charitable endowment dedicated to elderly advocacy, legal defense for domestic workers, and educational grants for underprivileged young women in Chicago," Luca explained, his voice rich and steady. "The board needs a Director with unimpeachable integrity. Someone who knows the value of hard work, understands what vulnerable people endure, and cannot be intimidated by wealth or power."
He tapped the signature line.
"The salary is two hundred and twenty thousand a year, full medical coverage, and an office downtown in the Moretti Tower. You start whenever your arm is out of that sling."
Tears sprang to my eyes, hot and overwhelming. "I don't... I don't know what to say. Luca, I don't have a business degree—"
"You have something infinitely rarer, child," Eleanor said, reaching across the table to clasp my good hand. "You have a soul that cannot be bought. You gave me my life back. Do you really think a piece of paper from a university matters more to us than that?"
I looked at Luca. His gaze was steady, warm, and filled with an admiration that made the breath catch in my throat.
"Say yes, Sophie," he murmured softly.
May you like
I wiped a tear from my cheek and smiled. "Yes. Absolutely yes."
***
