Chapter 7 - A New Foundation
Three months passed.
Winter arrived on Long Island, blanketing the twelve-acre Duca estate in a thick layer of powdery white snow. The Long Island Sound froze near the shore, sparkling like diamonds under the clear winter sun.
Inside Vale House, everything had changed.
Clara Bennett was no longer cleaning the guest rooms or managing the linens.
Two weeks after the incident with Silas Kane, Lorenzo had officially promoted Clara to Estate Manager, handing her full operational control over the household staff, the budget, and the daily running of the estate. She wore tailored wool dresses, carried a leather portfolio, and commanded the respect of every employee on the property.
More importantly, she was no longer just an employee.
Every evening at six o’clock, Lorenzo would leave his study, turn off his phones, and sit at the dining table with Clara and Mia.
Tonight, the fire burned bright in the grand living room fireplace. Mia sat on a thick sheepskin rug near the hearth, carefully constructing a tall tower out of colorful wooden blocks, while Lorenzo sat on the plush sofa nearby, watching her with a quiet, contented smile.
Clara walked into the room carrying two mugs of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. She set one down in front of Lorenzo and sat beside him on the sofa, kicking off her heels.
"The staff schedule for the holidays is finalized," Clara said, leaning back against the soft cushions. "Everyone gets three days off for Christmas."
Lorenzo took the mug, his fingers brushing against hers. "Good. And what about your schedule?"
Clara looked at him, a soft smirk playing on her lips. "I think the Estate Manager is staying right here."
Lorenzo set his mug down on the coffee table and turned to face her. His gaze was intense, warm, and entirely open. He reached out, his long fingers gently tucking a loose strand of dark blond hair behind her ear.
"Clara," Lorenzo murmured softly. "I haven't thanked you properly."
Clara blinked. "For what? Mia was the one who saw the tattoo."
"For giving this house a heart," Lorenzo said quietly, his voice filled with deep sincerity. "For thirty-five years, I thought this estate was just a fortress to keep my enemies out. I thought power was the only thing that kept a man alive." He reached down, taking her hand in his, feeling the soft warmth of her skin. "You and Mia showed me that a fortress is worthless if you have nothing inside worth protecting."
Clara’s heart did a soft flutter in her chest. She looked into his dark, expressive eyes, seeing the man behind the terrifying reputation—a man who was fiercely loyal, deeply protective, and surprisingly gentle.
"Lorenzo..." Clara whispered.
Before she could say another word, Lorenzo leaned in, closing the small distance between them, and pressed his lips gently against hers.
The kiss was soft at first, filled with a sweet, tentative warmth, before deepening as Lorenzo’s hand moved to the back of her neck, pulling her closer against his chest. Clara let out a soft sigh, her arms winding around his broad shoulders, giving herself over to the wonderful heat of his touch.
When they finally pulled apart, Lorenzo rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her cheek.
"I don't want you to be my Estate Manager anymore, Clara," Lorenzo whispered softly.
May you like
Clara smiled, her thumb tracing his strong jawline. "Oh no? What position are you offering me?"
Lorenzo looked down into her eyes, his heart beating strong and steady. "I want you to be my wife."
