Chapter 7 - The Blooming Garden
Two months passed.
Winter had slowly given way to early spring. The Moretti estate had transformed from a gloomy, high-security fortress into something almost vibrant.
The vast rear gardens, which had been neglected for years, were now blooming with fresh tulips, roses, and lavender.
Sophia stood near the marble fountain, wearing a soft cream-colored sweater and jeans, watching Emma chase a golden retriever puppy across the lawn. The puppy—a gift from Aleandro for Emma’s fifth birthday—was tumbling over itself, barking happily.
"Be careful near the steps, Emma!" Sophia called out, a genuine, radiant smile on her face.
"I'm fast, Mommy! Look at me!" Emma giggled, zooming past a line of armed guards who were trying very hard to maintain their serious, stoic expressions while suppressing smiles.
A shadow fell over the path, and Sophia turned to see Aleandro walking toward her.
He had abandoned his formal suit jacket, wearing a casual black cashmere sweater with the sleeves pushed up. In his hands, he carried two steaming mugs of hot chocolate.
"For you," he said, handing her one mug.
"Thank you," Sophia said softly, taking a sip. "You're spoiling her, you know. A golden retriever, a new playground set in the west yard, and now a room full of books?"
"She saved my life, Sophia," Aleandro replied smoothly, looking out at Emma playing with the dog. "A playground and a puppy are small tokens of appreciation."
He stood beside her, his tall frame offering a comforting barrier against the cool breeze.
Over the past two months, the cold, terrifying mafia boss had revealed a side that few people had ever seen. He was patient. He was protective. He spent his evenings sitting on the floor in the library, listening to Emma read her simple picture books, or discussing art and philosophy with Sophia over late-night tea.
"How are you adjusting?" Aleandro asked softly, turning his gray eyes onto her.
"It feels surreal sometimes," Sophia admitted, looking down at her mug. "Two months ago, I was sleeping in a tiny basement apartment, worrying if I could afford Emma’s next medical prescription. Now... I have a home, security, and a future for my daughter."
She looked up, meeting his intense gaze.
"I owe you everything, Aleandro."
"You owe me nothing," Aleandro corrected firmly. "You and Emma brought life back into this dead house. Before you arrived, these halls were filled with business, paranoia, and blood. Now... I actually look forward to coming home."
Sophia’s heart skipped a beat. The air between them grew charged with an unspoken, deep tension that had been building for weeks.
Aleandro reached out, his thumb gently wiping a spot of white foam from the corner of her lip. His touch was warm, surprisingly tender for a hand that held so much power.
"Sophia..." he whispered, stepping closer.
Sophia didn't pull away. She leaned into his touch slightly, her blue eyes locked onto his.
"Boss!" Marco’s loud voice called out from the patio, shattering the moment.
Aleandro sighed inwardly, stepping back smoothly, though his hand lingered near Sophia’s arm for a second longer. "Yes, Marco?"
Marco walked down the stone steps, his face grave. "Vincent Genovese has requested a sit-down at the neutral docks tonight. He says he wants to discuss the terms of Julian’s surrender."
Aleandro’s expression instantly shifted back to the cold, calculating Don. "Does he think I'm naive enough to meet him on his own turf?"
"He offered to come to Dock 14," Marco said. "He wants to settle the trade route disputes peacefully."
May you like
Aleandro narrowed his eyes. Dock 14—the very dock where Sophia’s husband had been killed.
"Tell him I will meet him at eight o'clock," Aleandro commanded. "And double the perimeter security around the mansion while I am gone."
