Chapter 6 - THE EMPIRE HE BURNED WITHOUT A MATCH
Manhattan greeted Dominic with camera flashes.
Sophia stayed in Pennsylvania another week.
Margaret’s funeral arrangements were finished, but grief was not.
Nothing about grief had a schedule.
Henry wandered from room to room touching things Margaret had touched.
Emma canceled her honeymoon.
Sophia forced her to go.
“You had a wedding in a barn twelve hours early because Mama wanted it.”
“I don’t want to leave Dad.”
“I’m here.”
“What about work?”
Sophia looked toward Manhattan on an imaginary map.
“I don’t know.”
She truly didn’t.
Dominic called every evening.
Never too long.
Never with dramatic declarations.
Mostly Lily answered.
“What did you eat?”
“Steak.”
“Vegetables?”
A pause.
“Some.”
“You need vegetables.”
“I have been told.”
“Did you arrest bad guys?”
“Police did.”
“Did you help?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Then Lily handed the phone to Sophia.
“Your boyfriend.”
“He is not—”
Lily had already left.
Dominic laughed quietly.
“You sound tired.”
“I’m living with my father again.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“He rearranged my laundry because I folded towels wrong.”
“Do towels have ideology?”
“Apparently.”
“How is he?”
Sophia looked toward the living room.
Henry sat in Margaret’s chair holding her knitting bag.
“Lost.”
Dominic was quiet.
“And you?”
“Same.”
No reassurance.
Just:
“I’m here.”
Those two words mattered.
In Manhattan, Dominic did exactly what he promised.
He opened everything.
Books.
Accounts.
Shipping records.
Properties.
Political contributions.
Offshore companies.
He hired outside forensic auditors.
Then gave prosecutors access.
His own attorneys nearly quit.
Several executives did.
Moretti stock in three publicly connected companies dropped.
Newspapers called him unstable.
Competitors called him finished.
Old men who once toasted Carlo Moretti called Dominic a traitor.
He kept going.
Rocco later told Sophia that Dominic spent one morning making a list of every business that could not survive daylight.
Thirty-eight names.
By the end of the month, eighteen were closed.
Nine transferred into federal receivership.
Six sold after clean audits.
Five surrendered outright.
Dominic fired more than two hundred people tied to illegal operations.
Some threatened him.
Some begged.
Some claimed loyalty.
Dominic asked only one question.
“Can your work survive an audit?”
If the answer was no, they left.
Matteo took over legal business operations temporarily.
Rocco restructured security.
Dominic removed armed men from restaurants, hospitals, and family homes.
He ended cash collection from neighborhood businesses.
Canceled debts created through intimidation.
Transferred several properties to tenants who had been paying Moretti-controlled “protection rent” for years.
It cost him tens of millions.
Sophia learned about that from the news.
Then one evening Henry handed her the newspaper.
The headline read:
MORETTI FOUNDATION TO FUND TRAFFICKING SURVIVOR SERVICES WITH SEIZED FAMILY ASSETS.
Sophia stared.
“Did he tell you?”
“No.”
Henry grunted.
“Good.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“If he was doing it to impress you, he’d tell you.”
Sophia smiled faintly.
“You like him.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You absolutely do.”
“He has poor taste in fathers.”
“That’s hereditary.”
Henry pointed at her.
“Careful.”
For the first time since Margaret died, he laughed.
Three days later, Sophia returned to Manhattan with Lily.
The Moretti estate felt different the moment they entered.
Quieter.
Half the staff gone.
Security less visible.
The black marble foyer unchanged.
Dominic was not home.
Sophia felt disappointed.
Then annoyed at herself.
Her job still existed.
Technically.
But a letter waited on her staff-room bed.
Sophia,
Your current employment contract ends today.
Her stomach dropped.
She kept reading.
Not because I am dismissing you.
Because your mother was right about one thing I did not understand until after Pennsylvania.
You cannot freely decide whether you want me in your life while your paycheck comes from me.
Enclosed is six months’ salary, full benefits through the year, and a reference letter that makes no mention of this weekend or my poor relationship with vegetables.
Sophia laughed.
Then cried.
The letter continued.
The apartment downstairs is yours for ninety days at no cost while you decide what comes next.
If you want another position in the Moretti companies, HR will evaluate you without my involvement.
If you want nothing connected to my name, I will help with that too.
There is no debt.
No expectation.
No promise owed to me.
D.
Sophia sat on the bed.
Lily climbed beside her.
“You fired?”
“No.”
“Then why cry?”
“Because he’s annoying.”
“Dom?”
“Yes.”
“He nice.”
“That is the annoying part.”
Dominic came home at midnight.
Sophia was waiting in the kitchen.
He stopped.
“You’re back.”
“You fired me.”
“No.”
“You ended my contract.”
“Yes.”
“That is a sophisticated rich-man version of firing.”
He took off his coat.
“You cannot date your employer freely.”
Sophia’s heart jumped.
“Who said I’m dating you?”
“Exactly.”
She stared.
He looked exhausted.
More exhausted than she had ever seen him.
“You lost weight.”
“I’ve had meetings.”
“That isn’t food.”
“Lily said the same.”
“She is wise.”
Dominic walked to the refrigerator.
Opened it.
Nothing useful.
Sophia sighed.
“Sit.”
He did.
Habit.
She made eggs.
Then realized what she was doing.
“You’re not my employer.”
“No.”
“Why are you obeying me?”
“I’m hungry.”
Fair.
They ate at the island.
Silence.
Then Dominic said:
“Marco is talking.”
Sophia looked up.
“About his father?”
“Everything.”
“Your mother?”
Dominic nodded.
“His father arranged the crash.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Carlo suspected. Never proved it.”
“Your father?”
“Knew.”
Her fork stopped.
“Carlo knew your father knew?”
“No.”
Dominic looked down.
“My father paid Bellini Sr. to leave New York afterward.”
Sophia felt sick.
“He protected your mother’s killer?”
“To avoid a war.”
“That isn’t protection.”
“No.”
Dominic met her eyes.
“He protected his empire.”
The distinction sat between them.
Margaret’s promise.
Build a world safe enough.
Sophia asked:
“Is that why you’re destroying it?”
“Partly.”
“What’s the other part?”
Dominic looked toward the hallway.
Lily’s red coat hung on a hook near the staff entrance.
“You.”
Sophia’s pulse stopped.
“And her.”
Silence.
He continued.
“I spent eighteen years becoming the kind of man my father respected.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“It was.”
“So now?”
“I’m trying to become someone my mother would recognize.”
Sophia swallowed.
“Dominic.”
“I told you I wouldn’t ask yet.”
“You haven’t.”
“No.”
He stood.
“I’m going upstairs.”
“Wait.”
He stopped.
She hated how nervous she suddenly felt.
“I’m not your employee.”
“No.”
“My mother is gone.”
His expression softened.
“Yes.”
“Your house is currently full of auditors instead of criminals.”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“Old habits.”
She almost smiled.
Then took a breath.
“You said when those things changed, you’d ask properly.”
Dominic stared at her.
“Sophia.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me.”
“Good.”
“That would be concerning.”
“Yes.”
She stepped closer.
“I’m saying you can ask.”
For the first time in four years, Dominic Moretti looked uncertain.
He actually looked nervous.
Sophia loved that more than she should.
“Would you have dinner with me?”
“Where?”
“Anywhere that isn’t one of my restaurants.”
“Good.”
“Friday?”
“Seven.”
“Lily?”
“Emma is coming to visit.”
Dominic nodded.
“Then Friday.”
He walked away.
Sophia called:
“Dominic?”
He turned.
“You could smile.”
May you like
He did.
And suddenly the most feared man in Manhattan looked like a teenager who had somehow gotten the answer right.
