Chapter 8 - The Wedding Blueprint
By July, the preparations for the wedding had transformed the Moretti estate into a flurry of floral arrangements, caterers, and high-society designers.
Naomi stood in the grand foyer, reviewing a seating chart with the head wedding planner, when a sharp, authoritative knock sounded at the front doors.
Rocco swung the heavy doors open. Standing on the marble porch wasn't an assassin or a rival syndicate boss, but a middle-aged woman with tired eyes, clutching a worn leather handbag. Her hair was pulled back in a simple bun, and her clothes were neat but undeniably modest.
Naomi froze. The clipboard slipped from her fingers, clattering against the marble floor.
"Mom?" Naomi breathed out, her voice cracking.
Elena Carter stared into the towering, opulent foyer of the Moretti mansion, her jaw practically unhinged as she looked at the crystal chandeliers, the armed guards, and her daughter standing in a designer dress rehearsal gown.
"Naomi?" her mother whispered, stepping across the threshold. "What... what is this place? The cab driver told me this was a private fortress!"
Before Naomi could run across the foyer to embrace her, heavy footsteps descended the grand curved staircase. Luca Moretti walked down the steps, his expression polite and composed, buttoning his cuffs as he approached them.
"Welcome to our home, Mrs. Carter," Luca said smoothly, extending a hand. "I’m Luca Moretti. I believe I owe you an explanation for why your daughter hasn't answered your phone calls in three days."
Elena stared at the most feared man in the city shaking her hand, her eyes darting between him and Naomi in sheer, unadulterated shock.
May you like
"You... you're the..." Elena stammered, her knees visibly weakening.
"Future son-in-law, yes," Luca smiled faintly, stepping closer to support her elbow. "And you are staying in the premier guest suite for the rest of the week, whether you like it or not."
