Chapter 6 - THE FOUNDATION RESTOREDHannah stepped forward and extended her hand, wrapping her warm, strong fingers around Bianca’s trembling wrist. With gentle but firm strength, she pulled the elderly woman up from the floor.
“Stand up, Bianca,” Hannah said softly. “No one kneels in this house. Not to me, and not to anyone else.”
Bianca wiped her eyes with trembling fingers, looking at Hannah with an expression bordering on reverence. “You... you don't hate me?”
“Hate is an unprofitable emotion,” Hannah replied, a faint, graceful smile touching her lips. “You made an error in judgment fueled by arrogance. But you love this family, and you love Roman. That is the only reason I am willing to turn the page tonight.”
Bianca reached out, her hands shaking, and gently touched the hem of Hannah’s green velvet sleeve. “You saved us all. Every single one of us.”
“From now on,” Hannah said, turning her gaze across the entire room, ensuring every relative met her eyes, “the internal governance of this family changes. The Duca Foundation will be audited quarterly by an independent firm answerable only to me. Anyone who attempts to undermine Roman, or anyone who forgets who keeps this empire safe, will find themselves removed from the family ledger permanently. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Hannah,” Uncle Julian spoke up immediately, his voice filled with genuine humility.
“Understood,” echoed Victoria, wiping a stray tear of relief from her cheek.
Roman walked forward, his imposing frame flanking Hannah. He placed a heavy, protective arm around his wife’s shoulders, pulling her against his side.
“You heard my wife,” Roman declared, his voice echoing through the grand salon with absolute finality. “Dinner is over for the night. Tomorrow morning, we gather in the private chapel to give thanks that Hannah Duca is the guardian of this house. Now go to your guest rooms.”
Without a word of protest, the twenty-two relatives filed quietly out of the salon, their heads lowered in profound respect and subdued gratitude. Bianca lingered for a brief moment, pressing Hannah’s hand with both of hers in a silent, tearful gesture of repentance, before retiring to her suite down the hall.
The heavy oak doors clicked shut, leaving only the crackle of the dying hearth fire and the muffled sound of the blizzard outside.
Roman turned Hannah into his arms, cupping her face with both hands. His thumbs traced her cheekbones, lingering gently beside the faint red mark that was already beginning to fade.
“You’re an extraordinary woman, Hannah Duca,” he whispered, his voice thick with raw emotion.
“I’m just a woman who knows her numbers,” she teased softly, leaning her forehead against his chest, listening to the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat.
“You’re the anchor of my life,” Roman murmured, bending down to press his lips against hers in a deep, passionate kiss that washed away the tension, the violence, and the coldness of the evening.
When he pulled back, he smiled—a rare, brilliant smile that only she ever saw. “Tomorrow, I’m transferring forty percent of the parent company’s voting shares directly into your name.”
Hannah arched an eyebrow, a playful gleam in her hazel eyes. “Are you trying to bribe your Chief Financial Officer, Mr. Duca?”
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“I’m ensuring that the smartest person in the room has the final word,” Roman laughed softly, gathering her into his arms and lifting her effortlessly off her feet. “Come on. The storm is going to blow all night, and we have an entire estate to ourselves.”
As Roman carried her toward their private wing, the grandfather clock struck 10:30 PM, its steady, rhythmic pulse marking the beginning of an era where no one in the Duca family would ever doubt Hannah again.
