Chapter 9 - The Queen of the Pack
Six months later.
The estate on the cliffs overlooking the ocean was no longer known as the Moretti Fortress. The locals and the business associates who came to pay their respects called it something else now: The Sanctuary.
The heavy iron gates stood open to the coastal breeze. Green grass rolled across the inner courtyards where concrete runs had once been. Children from the local village—which Grace had funded through a new charitable foundation—ran through the lower gardens during afternoon visits, laughing as six massive, gentle giants trotted beside them like guardian angels.
In the newly restored master dining hall, a grand banquet was underway.
High-ranking captains from three continents sat along the twenty-foot table, enjoying roasted lamb, rich herb risottos, and handmade pasta prepared by Grace and her expanded culinary team.
At the head of the table sat Luca Moretti.
He wore a dark blue velvet jacket, his hair neatly styled, his face looking ten years younger than it had the day Grace first walked through the gate.
Beside him sat Grace. She wore a stunning emerald-green silk dress that hugged her soft, gorgeous curves, a delicate gold necklace resting against her collarbone—a necklace carrying her father's old silver whistle alongside the Moretti crest.
Titan lay peacefully beneath their feet, his massive head resting comfortably on the hem of Grace’s silk gown.
Luca stood up, holding a glass of aged red wine. The room went instantly silent as twenty powerful men turned their attention to the Boss.
"For thirty years," Luca spoke, his voice rich and clear, "this family believed that power was built on iron, blood, and fear. We thought that to be strong, we had to be ruthless."
He looked down at Grace, his eyes shining with profound love and devotion.
"We were wrong," Luca continued softly. "Real power isn't built on fear. It’s built on loyalty. It’s built on knowing who will stand beside you when the storm comes. My father built this house... but Grace Walker made it a home."
Luca raised his glass toward his wife. "To the Queen of the Pack."
"To the Queen!" the entire room roared in unison, raising their glasses high into the air.
May you like
Grace smiled, a warm, beautiful light illuminating her face. She reached out, her fingers lacing tightly through Luca’s beneath the table.
Outside, across the sunlit cliffs, the five other hounds let out a joyful, synchronized howl that echoed over the blue waters of the bay—a song of strength, of peace, and of a family that could never be broken again.
