Chapter 13 - Ghosts of the Past
Late that evening, after the high-rise offices had emptied and the city below had settled into a glittering sea of lights, I stayed behind in the executive suite to review the final architectural drafts for the waterfront district.
The heavy mahogany doors of the office clicked open softly. I didn't need to look up to know who it was. Dominic’s steady, measured footsteps approached the desk, carrying two cups of steaming black coffee. He set one down gently beside my laptop and pulled up a chair.
"Still working?" Dominic asked quietly, his gray eyes studying my face with brotherly protectiveness.
"Just finalizing the community outreach programs for the new district," I replied, taking a small sip of the bitter, comforting brew. "I want to make sure nothing is left to chance."
Dominic looked out the floor-to-ceiling glass window, watching the distant lights flicker across the harbor. "You know, El, for a long time we kept our distance, letting you live your life away from our world, thinking it would keep you safe. When we walked into that ballroom and saw what Adrian Cole had done to you... I thought I was going to tear this city apart with my bare hands."
I turned my gaze toward my eldest brother, feeling a deep wave of warmth wash over my chest. I reached across the desk and placed my hand over his scarred knuckles. "You did tear it apart, Dom. And you gave me back my strength. I don't regret any of it. The pain taught me who I truly am."
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"You were always a Moretti," Dominic murmured fiercely, squeezing my hand back. "Even when you were playing the quiet, submissive wife to a fool who didn't deserve to breathe the same air as you. Never forget that you are the one who brought that empire crashing down."
"I won't," I said softly. "And neither will anyone else."
