Chapter 6 - The Ferraro Matriarch
The morning after the gala, the estate was quiet. The papers had tried to spin the story, but the image of Elena ignoring the scandal to comfort Dante’s mother had gone viral. The city didn't see a gold digger; they saw a fiercely loyal woman protecting her family.
Elena was packing her small suitcase in the master suite. The secret was out. The contract was public. She felt she had to leave to let the dust settle, to protect Dante’s reputation.
The door opened. Rosalind stood there, not leaning on her cane, but standing tall. Dante was right behind her.
“What are you doing, child?” Rosalind asked, her voice clear and sharp. Today was a good day. A very good day.
“I’m causing too much trouble for your family, Rosalind,” Elena said softly, zipping the bag.
Rosalind walked over, placed her hand on the suitcase, and shoved it off the bed. It hit the floor with a thud.
“You are the family,” Rosalind commanded. She turned to her massive, terrifying son. “Dante. I did not raise you to let the best thing that ever happened to this house walk out the door. Fix this. I am going to have my tea.”
With that, the matriarch swept out of the room, leaving the door wide open.
Dante looked at the doorway, a rare, genuine laugh escaping his chest. He walked over to Elena, kicking the empty suitcase out of the way. He didn't look like a mob boss, or a billionaire CEO. He just looked like a man desperately in love.
“She has a point,” Dante murmured, wrapping his arms around Elena’s waist and pulling her flush against him. “I paid off your debts, Elena. But you own my life.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a different box. Not the massive, ostentatious diamond he had originally bought for Sienna. This was a delicate, vintage ring featuring a perfect sapphire surrounded by small diamonds.
“This was my grandmother’s,” Dante said quietly, his dark eyes searching hers. “No contracts. No arrangements. No debts. Just me, asking the woman who saved my mother’s life, and my soul, to be my wife for real.”
Elena looked at the ring, then up at the man who had torn down his own walls to let her in. She didn't need to think. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.
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“Tell your mother she’s going to have to help me plan a real wedding,” Elena whispered.
Dante smiled, capturing her lips in a kiss that tasted like a promise. Outside the window, the winter ice on the lake was finally beginning to melt, giving way to the warmth of a new spring.
