Chapter 17 - The Last Order of Luca Moretti
Katherine's final letter was six pages long.
Harper read it at Thomas's kitchen table.
Luca sat beside her.
Thomas remained across from them.
The first paragraph was dated months before Katherine's death.
She had known her cancer was terminal.
She had written letters to several people.
Most were ordinary.
This one wasn't.
Harper, if you're reading this, the life I tried to keep separate from yours finally found you. I'm sorry.
Harper wiped her eyes.
Katherine explained why she'd lied about Thomas.
Not because she hated him.
Because she feared the power his name carried.
Thomas had once been charming, ambitious, and reckless.
Then power changed him.
Your father believed he could make the world safe by making everyone afraid of him. I loved him, but I could not raise you inside that belief.
Thomas lowered his eyes.
Katherine wrote that Thomas had eventually changed.
Not enough to repair their relationship.
Enough for her to forgive some things.
She had secretly communicated with him several times during Harper's childhood.
Harper stopped.
“You talked to Mom?”
Thomas nodded.
“Three times.”
“You never told me.”
“She asked me not to.”
Harper wanted to be angry.
Instead she was tired.
“What did you talk about?”
“You.”
Thomas smiled sadly.
“Always you.”
Katherine's letter continued.
She had sent Thomas photographs.
School pictures.
Graduation.
Harper's nursing-school acceptance.
“You saw those?”
“Yes.”
Harper's eyes filled.
“You knew I went to nursing school.”
“I knew everything Katherine allowed me to know.”
“Why didn't you help when we couldn't afford tuition?”
Thomas's face broke.
“I offered.”
Harper looked at the letter.
Katherine had answered that too.
Thomas wanted to pay for your schooling. I refused. Maybe I was too proud. If that hurt you, blame me, not him.
Harper cried silently.
Luca held her hand.
The final page contained Katherine's wishes.
Not commands.
Wishes.
For Thomas:
If Harper ever chooses to know you, do not waste that gift trying to make up twenty years in twenty days. Let her be angry. Let her decide who you become to her.
Thomas wiped his eyes.
For Harper:
You are allowed to love people who have made mistakes without pretending those mistakes did not happen.
Harper looked at Luca.
He looked away slightly.
Katherine had never met adult Luca.
Yet somehow the sentence felt written for Harper now.
Then the last paragraph.
And if Antonio's son is somehow part of this when the truth surfaces, tell him his father wanted only one thing for him: a life that belonged to Luca, not the Moretti name.
Luca stopped breathing.
Harper handed him the letter.
He read the paragraph himself.
Again.
Then once more.
Thomas stood.
“I'll give you two a minute.”
He left.
Harper watched Luca.
“You okay?”
He laughed softly.
“People keep asking me that.”
“Answer.”
“No.”
She leaned against him.
They sat quietly.
After several minutes, Luca whispered, “My whole life was built around proving I deserved the name.”
“Now?”
“I think I want to deserve myself.”
Harper looked at him.
“That sounds annoyingly healthy.”
“I've been around therapists.”
She smiled.
The next day, Luca called the remaining senior members of his organization together.
Not criminals.
Not anymore, technically.
Business partners.
Former associates.
People still waiting to discover whether Luca planned to rebuild.
They met inside a private conference room.
Vincent stood beside him.
Harper didn't attend.
Luca wanted this choice to belong entirely to him.
He looked around the table.
Some faces he'd known since his twenties.
“My father once told someone that he wanted my life to belong to me instead of the Moretti name.”
Nobody spoke.
Luca continued.
“I spent years doing the opposite.”
One man frowned.
“What are you saying?”
“The old organization is finished.”
Murmurs.
“You already shut down operations.”
“I'm not talking about operations.”
Luca removed the ring he had worn since becoming head of the family.
Black stone.
Silver crest.
He placed it on the table.
“No successor.”
Silence.
“No new boss. No restructuring. No waiting for investigations to disappear.”
Someone said, “Luca—”
“No.”
His voice carried the old authority one final time.
“This is my last order.”
Everyone stopped.
“You take whatever legitimate business belongs legally to you. Anything under investigation remains untouched. You stay away from illegal work done in my name.”
A man near the end laughed.
“And if we don't?”
Luca looked at him.
“Then you're on your own.”
The man leaned back.
“You're giving up power.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Luca thought of Harper.
His father.
Katherine.
Thomas.
A freezing doorway.
“Because I finally learned what it costs.”
Nobody answered.
Luca stood.
He walked out.
Vincent followed.
Outside, spring sunlight covered Boston.
Vincent said, “How do you feel?”
“Unemployed.”
Vincent laughed.
“Harper will enjoy that.”
“She enjoys all my suffering.”
“That's love.”
Luca stopped.
Vincent continued walking.
Luca stared after him.
Love.
He had avoided the word.
Not because it was wrong.
Because it felt terrifyingly accurate.
That evening, Luca went to Harper's apartment.
A new apartment.
Small.
Warm.
Safe.
She was studying anatomy at the kitchen table.
“You look serious,” she said.
“I did something today.”
“Should I call Elena?”
“No.”
“That narrows it down.”
Luca told her about the meeting.
The ring.
The last order.
Harper listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she closed her textbook.
“How do you feel?”
“Everyone asks that.”
“I'm everyone now?”
“No.”
He moved closer.
“That's the problem.”
Harper looked up.
“What problem?”
“You're not everyone.”
Luca had faced armed men without fear.
Federal investigators.
Enemies.
Betrayal.
Yet suddenly his mouth felt dry.
“I love you.”
Harper became perfectly still.
Luca continued because stopping felt worse.
“I don't expect you to say it.”
“Good.”
His stomach dropped.
Then Harper smiled.
“Because you didn't give me time.”
She stood.
“I love you too.”
Relief hit Luca so hard he laughed.
Harper touched his face.
“But.”
“There's a but.”
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
“I love the man you're becoming.”
Luca nodded.
“Not the money.”
“I know.”
“Not the reputation.”
“I know.”
“And if you ever send five SUVs to pick me up from work again—”
“Four.”
“Luca.”
“Understood.”
She kissed him.
Later, while Harper studied, Luca attempted to cook dinner.
He burned the sauce.
Set off the smoke detector.
And discovered Harper found domestic incompetence much funnier than criminal intimidation.
For once, Luca didn't mind being laughed at.
His phone remained silent.
No emergency calls.
No orders.
No threats.
At 10:14 p.m., he looked around Harper's tiny kitchen.
Books everywhere.
Cheap chairs.
Half-burned dinner.
The woman he loved complaining about tomorrow's pharmacology quiz.
And Luca realized something astonishing.
He didn't miss the mansion.
He didn't miss the ring.
He didn't miss being feared.
For the first time in his adult life, Luca Moretti was simply Luca.
But there was still one place he needed to visit before he could completely leave the old life behind.
The grocery store his father once owned.
It had been empty for fourteen years.
May you like
And inside the back office, Vincent had just discovered an unopened box addressed to Luca in Antonio Moretti's handwriting.
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