Chapter 18 - The Last Secret Under La Corona
Six months passed.
Carlo awaited trial.
Sofia moved back to Italy.
Elena and Isadora rebuilt their relationship slowly.
Marco became an investigative consultant and an unbearable older brother.
Gio transformed La Corona.
The restaurant remained elegant.
But the private rooms once used for secret meetings became offices for the restitution foundation.
Isadora managed it.
She refused the title director.
Gio printed it on her office anyway.
One morning, renovations uncovered a second compartment beneath the old cellar.
Inside sat one wooden box.
Gio and Isadora opened it together.
There were no criminal records.
No secret accounts.
Only photographs.
Vittorio.
Antonio.
Elena.
Sofia.
Children.
Fishing trips.
Birthdays.
Ordinary life.
At the bottom sat a small velvet box.
Gio opened it.
Inside was a ring.
Isadora stared.
“Oh, absolutely not.”
Gio blinked.
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You’re holding a ring in a secret cellar.”
“It belonged to my grandmother.”
“That is suspicious.”
“There is also a note.”
He unfolded it.
FOR GIOVANNI, WHEN HE FINALLY MEETS SOMEONE WHO ISN’T IMPRESSED BY HIM.
Isadora burst out laughing.
“My father has become annoying after death.”
“I like him more every day.”
Gio held the ring.
Then became serious.
“I’m not proposing.”
“Good.”
“Yet.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t want you saying yes because we survived something together.”
Her expression softened.
“I don’t want you staying because my father told you to.”
He stepped closer.
“I want to build something that has nothing to do with what our families broke.”
Isadora looked around the cellar.
All those secrets.
All those years.
Then back at him.
“That sounds dangerously healthy.”
“I’ve been practicing.”
“Clearly.”
He put the ring back in the box.
“One day.”
“Maybe.”
He smiled.
Then Luca appeared at the door.
“There are fifty reporters outside.”
“Why?”
“Marco published his book.”
Gio froze.
“What book?”
Isadora covered her face.
Marco stepped behind Luca holding a copy.
The title read:
THE WAITRESS WHO POURED ICE ON GIOVANNI ROSSI.
Gio stared.
“I am going to kill him.”
Isadora took the book.
The cover showed no photograph.
Just a wineglass with melting ice.
“It’s already number one online.”
Gio closed his eyes.
Marco grinned.
May you like
“You’re welcome.”
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