Chapter 6 - The Dance They Owed Each Other
The arrests made every newspaper in Chicago.
Gianna Moretti and Adrian Voss were charged with conspiracy, financial fraud, attempted murder, obstruction, and the murder of Elena Moretti. The investigation expanded beyond the foundation, uncovering years of hidden money and violence.
Luca did not attend the first press conference.
He stayed at home with Sophia.
I stayed too.
At first, I told myself it was temporary. I had a rented room, a job at the hotel, and bills waiting for me.
But Luca had quietly paid off the hospital debts I had accumulated after the bridge accident.
When I found out, I was angry.
“You had no right,” I told him.
“You are right,” he said. “I should have asked.”
“You cannot fix everything with money.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He looked at me for a long moment.
“No. But I am learning.”
That answer stopped me.
Luca was not a gentle man by nature. He was precise, guarded, and used to being obeyed. But with Sophia, he was trying to change.
He attended every therapy session.
He sat on the floor beside her when she was afraid to practice walking.
He apologized when he made promises he could not keep.
And slowly, Sophia began trusting her legs again.
One afternoon, Dr. Benton placed four small markers across the sunroom floor.
“Just to the blue line,” she told Sophia.
Sophia looked at me.
“Will you stand there?”
“Yes.”
Luca stood behind her, close enough to catch her but not touching.
Sophia took one step.
Then another.
Her face tightened with effort.
At the third marker, her knee wobbled.
She almost gave up.
Then I began singing.
Softly.
The same old song from the river.
Little boat, don’t be afraid…
Sophia’s eyes widened.
She took another step.
Then she reached me.
I caught her gently.
She laughed against my shoulder.
Luca turned away for a second, wiping his face.
Dr. Benton smiled.
“That,” she said, “is progress.”
That night, Sophia insisted on a dance.
Not in the ballroom.
Not in front of guests.
In the sunroom, with rain tapping against the glass and music playing quietly from Luca’s phone.
“I have to wear my blue dress,” she declared.
“You can wear pajamas,” Luca said.
“No. This is important.”
So she wore the pale blue dress from the gala, now altered so she could move more easily.
Luca stood near the piano, awkwardly holding a phone that played an old jazz song.
Sophia held my hands.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Ready.”
We moved slowly.
Not a real dance by anyone else’s standards.
One step.
Pause.
Another step.
A wobble.
A laugh.
Then Sophia looked at Luca.
“Daddy, come too.”
He hesitated.
Sophia narrowed her eyes.
“That was not a question.”
I smiled.
Luca came over.
Sophia took one of his hands and one of mine.
Together, we moved in a small circle beneath the dim lights.
For the first time in three years, Sophia danced.
And for the first time in years, Luca let himself look happy without fearing what it might cost him.
Later, after Sophia fell asleep, he found me on the terrace.
“You saved her twice,” he said.
“The doctors saved her.”
“You gave her a reason to fight.”
“I gave her a promise.”
Luca stood beside me.
“I should have found you.”
“You were grieving.”
“I was blind.”
I looked at him.
“So was I.”
He turned toward me.
“No. You kept trying.”
The silence between us changed.
Not into something easy.
Not yet.
But into something honest.
Then Luca’s phone rang.
Marco.
“Boss,” he said, “Gianna has agreed to speak.”
Luca’s face hardened.
“She wants a deal.”
“What does she want?”
“She wants to see Sophia.”
Luca looked through the terrace doors toward his sleeping daughter.
Then he said, “No.”
But Sophia had heard.
And the next morning, she made a decision neither of us expected.
May you like
She wanted to face her grandmother herself.
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