Chapter 8 - The Price of Coming Home
Norah opened the letter with trembling hands.
Her father's handwriting filled two pages.
Nora,
If you're reading this, then either I've judged the man correctly or you've finally become stubborn enough to ignore my instructions.
She laughed through tears.
Matteo sat silently beside her.
The letter explained something Norah had never known.
Years before Norah met Matteo, Daniel Bennett had worked briefly on Rossi accounts.
He had seen Matteo as a young man.
Ambitious.
Brutal.
But different from Matteo's father.
Daniel believed Matteo possessed one quality that might eventually save him.
He felt guilt.
He simply buried it beneath power.
Never believe you can change a man, Daniel wrote.
People change themselves or they don't change.
If Matteo ever becomes the man you hoped he could be, don't forgive him because he suffered.
Forgive him only if forgiveness gives you peace.
Norah lowered the letter.
Matteo looked devastated.
“Your father knew me.”
“Apparently.”
“He hated me?”
Norah continued reading.
Then smiled.
“Not exactly.”
The final paragraph read:
And if Rossi ever hurts my daughter, tell him I still know where his mother lives.
Matteo laughed.
Norah laughed too.
Soon both were crying.
Years of pain did not disappear.
But something shifted.
The past no longer controlled the room.
Six months later, Matteo took Norah to dinner.
Nothing extravagant.
A small restaurant overlooking the harbor.
Afterward, they walked along the water.
Matteo stopped.
“No audience?”
Norah asked.
“No.”
“No violin?”
“No.”
“No helicopter?”
“I've matured.”
She laughed.
Matteo reached into his coat.
Norah immediately held up a finger.
“Do not kneel.”
He froze.
“Why?”
“Because the first time you proposed, you rented an entire restaurant and terrified everyone into leaving.”
“I thought it was romantic.”
“You had six armed men standing beside the dessert cart.”
“They were security.”
“They were carrying rifles.”
“Different era.”
Norah laughed harder.
Matteo remained standing.
He opened a small box.
Inside was a simple ring.
Beautiful, but not enormous.
Norah raised an eyebrow.
“You bought something reasonably priced?”
“Arthur said I should seek medical attention.”
She smiled.
Matteo's expression became serious.
“I don't want to ask you to return to what we had.”
“Good.”
“I want to ask whether you'll build something different with me.”
Norah's eyes filled.
“No promises about forever?”
Matteo shook his head.
“Just tomorrow. Then we choose again the day after.”
Norah looked at the ring.
Then at the man holding it.
“Yes.”
Their second wedding happened three months later.
Twenty-two guests.
No empire.
No armed guards.
Arthur cried and denied it afterward.
Daniel carried the rings.
When the officiant asked Matteo whether he accepted Norah as his wife, Matteo looked directly at her.
“I choose her.”
Norah smiled.
“And I choose him.”
That night, after Daniel was asleep, Matteo and Norah sat outside their small coastal home.
No penthouse skyline.
Just stars.
Matteo rested his hand over hers.
“Do you miss Boston?”
“No.”
“The house?”
“No.”
“The marble kitchen?”
Norah laughed.
“Definitely not.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
She leaned against him.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Norah took Matteo's hand and placed it against her stomach.
He frowned.
Then froze.
Something moved beneath his palm.
Matteo stared at her.
Norah smiled through tears.
“No.”
“Yes.”
His eyes widened.
“How long?”
“Twelve weeks.”
Matteo couldn't speak.
Norah laughed softly.
“You're going to be a father again.”
His eyes filled instantly.
This time he would be there.
For the appointments.
For the sleepless nights.
For the fear.
For everything he had missed with Daniel.
Matteo lowered his forehead against hers.
“Thank you.”
“Don't thank me yet. You haven't experienced three a.m. cravings.”
“I survived federal prison.”
“You haven't survived pregnant Norah wanting pancakes.”
Matteo smiled.
“I'll take my chances.”
Yet several days later, Arthur arrived unexpectedly.
He carried a folder.
Matteo immediately recognized the expression.
“What?”
Arthur sat down.
“The final Rossi account.”
Matteo frowned.
“There aren't any.”
“There is one.”
Arthur opened the folder.
Daniel Bennett had created it twenty years earlier.
Norah's father.
The balance was enormous.
But the shocking part wasn't the money.
It was the beneficiary.
Norah read the document.
Her face went pale.
Because the account didn't belong to Matteo.
It belonged to her.
And attached to it was one final instruction from her father.
An instruction that could either rebuild their future...
May you like
or reopen the darkest part of Matteo's past.
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