Chapter 9 - Restoration
Two days later, a black sedan pulled up to the front curb of 414 Maple Crest Avenue.
Clara stepped out into the crisp winter air, wrapped in a warm wool coat that Matteo had ordered for her from an upscale boutique on Michigan Avenue. Beside her stood Matteo Bellini, his hands resting easily inside his dark overcoat pockets.
Clara looked at her childhood home and gasped.
The splintered front entryway had vanished. In its place stood a brand-new, hand-carved mahogany door with brass hardware that perfectly mirrored the architectural style her father had always loved. The damaged porch boards had been replaced, the gutters cleared of ice, and the entire front garden neatly shoveled and cleared.
Matteo stepped onto the porch beside her and held out a set of heavy brass keys. Attached to the ring was a solid gold fob engraved with the initials C.V.
""Go ahead,"" Matteo said gently.
Clara took the keys, her fingers steady this time. She slid the key into the polished brass lock. It turned with a smooth, satisfying mechanical click.
She pushed the door open.
The house was warm, smelling of fresh paint and pine needles. Every trace of Evelyn and Chloe had been systematically purged. The cluttered dining room had been restored to its classic beauty, the hardwood floors buffed and polished until they shone like mirrors. On the dining table rested a stack of original legal documents stamped with the official red seal of the Cook County Probate Court.
Clara walked to the table and picked up the top document. It was the deed to the property—issued solely and irrevocably in the name of Clara Vance.
Beneath it lay a certified bank draft from the Midwest Crown Bank for seventy-five thousand dollars—the full restitution of the funds Marcus had skimmed from her personal accounts over the years, recovered through the liquidation of his seized Audi and Chloe’s jewelry collection.
""I don't know how to repay you, Mr. Bellini,"" Clara said, her voice catching as she looked around the house she had sacrificed her entire youth to save. ""This... this is a miracle.""
Matteo walked into the room, his eyes softening as he looked down at her. ""You don't owe me anything, Clara. You spent six years taking care of everyone else. Your father, your ungrateful family, and me. It was time someone took care of you.""
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""And your office?"" she smiled faintly, wiping away a stray tear. ""Who is going to run the Bellini Tower while I’m moving my things?""
""I have dozens of assistants who can format logistics spreadsheets,"" Matteo said, his voice dropping into a warm, intimate tone. ""None of them can replace you. In fact, I came here today to offer you a promotion.""
