Chapter 10 - The New Order
Six months later.
The summer sun was warm over the manicured lawns of the Moretti estate. The high iron gates stood open, welcoming fifty neighborhood children and their parents for the annual Moretti Foundation Summer Launch.
In the gardens near the conservatory, long tables were set up with fruit, sandwiches, and fresh lemonade.
Nico stood near the fountain, wearing a light linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, teaching a nine-year-old boy how to hold a croquet mallet with proper form.
"No, no, Leo," Nico laughed, adjusting the boy’s hands. "You don't hit it like a baseball bat. You glide it. Like this. Elegance, my friend! Elegance!"
Near the rose bushes, Marco Bell stood talking to Maria, wearing a new grey suit that had been custom-tailored with a hidden holster lining. He looked comfortable, relaxed, and didn't check his surroundings once every ten seconds.
Camille stood on the high marble terrace, wearing a light floral dress that swept around her ankles, holding a glass of iced tea. Her hand rested comfortably on her hip, her wedding ring—a magnificent cushion-cut emerald surrounded by diamonds—flashing brilliantly in the afternoon sun.
A pair of large, muscular arms slid around her waist from behind.
Lucian pulled her back against his chest, resting his chin on her shoulder. He wore a simple white shirt, the top two buttons undone, his dark hair blown slightly by the summer breeze.
"Are you happy, Mrs. Moretti?" Lucian murmured near her ear, his thumb gently caressing her stomach through the light cotton of her dress.
"I am very happy, Mr. Moretti," she turned her head to kiss his jaw. "Though your brother is currently using fish forks to demonstrate proper fencing techniques to the ten-year-olds."
Lucian looked down at the lawn, a soft, easy laugh echoing in his chest. "Let him. The kids love it."
He turned her in his arms until she was facing him, his gray eyes clear, bright, and completely free of the cold shadows that had once owned them.
"Sal Valenti called my office this morning," Lucian said smoothly.
Camille raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Does he want to make another half-million-dollar donation?"
"He wants to know if you are available to consult for his daughter's debutante ball in October," Lucian smiled, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip. "He offered twenty thousand dollars."
Camille laughed—a bright, beautiful sound that carried across the terrace. "And what did you tell him?"
Lucian leaned down, his lips brushing against hers with a deep, lazy affection that made her toes curl in her sandals.
"I told him," Lucian whispered, "that my wife is entirely out of his price range. But if he asks very politely... she might consider giving him a lesson in manners."
Camille wrapped her arms around his broad neck, pulling him down for a deep, sun-warmed kiss that lasted long into the summer afternoon.
May you like
Across the lawn, Nico looked up from his croquet game, saw his brother kissing his wife on the terrace, and raised his glass in a silent, triumphant toast.
The crime boss had finally learned his manners. And Chicago would never be the same.
