Chapter 9 - The Garden of Remembrance
Eight months later.
Summer had arrived in Calabria, Italy.
The Moretti family’s ancestral estate sat high on a sun-drenched cliffside overlooking the sparkling, turquoise waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea. The air was warm, filled with the scent of blooming jasmine, lemon groves, and the salty breeze blowing off the Mediterranean.
The grand limestone villa—which had been closed and locked since Dominick Moretti’s death ten years ago—had been completely restored to its former glory under Seraphina’s personal artistic direction. Ancient stone arches were covered in climbing pink bougainvillea, while white linen curtains fluttered gently in the sea breeze through open French doors.
In the center of the estate’s private botanical garden, overlooking the sea, stood a newly carved marble monument dedicated to Dominick and Rosalie Moretti.
Vincent stood beside the monument, dressed in a casual white linen shirt and dark trousers, holding a glass of fresh lemonade. His sharp, stern features were relaxed, the heavy burden of running a global syndicate lightened by the peace that had finally settled over his life.
Walking up the stone path toward him was Seraphina, wearing a light yellow summer dress, her dark curls dancing in the warm wind. Beside her walked Marcus, who had surrendered his tactical holster for a pair of sunglasses and a relaxed smile, carrying a basket of fresh lemons from the orchard.
"The restoration of the library is complete, Vincent!" Seraphina announced joyfully, stepping up beside him and kissing his cheek. "We uncovered original oil paintings from our great-grandfather dating back to 1912!"
"You've turned this old fortress into a palace, Seraphina," Vincent smiled, putting his arm around her waist. "Our father wouldn't recognize the place."
"He would recognize the peace," she replied softly, setting a small bouquet of fresh white lilies at the base of the marble monument.
She knelt down beside the stone, gently tracing her fingers over her father’s engraved name.
"I used to think my life began the night I collapsed in front of your car in the rain," Seraphina spoke, looking out at the endless blue horizon of the ocean. "I thought I was just a ghost running away from a monster."
"And now?" Vincent asked gently.
Seraphina stood up, turning to face him, her hazel eyes bright with unshakeable joy, happiness, and peace.
"Now I know that night wasn't the beginning of my end," she said, holding out her hand to him. "It was the moment the storm brought me back to where I always belonged."
May you like
Vincent took her hand, wrapping his strong fingers around hers, locking their hands together under the bright Italian sun.
"As long as I draw breath," Vincent promised her, his voice low, steady, and filled with unbroken love, "no storm will ever touch you again, Seraphina. You are home."
