Chapter 15 - The New Dawn of Chicago
One year later.
The autumn wind swept across the pristine white marble plaza of the newly renamed Clara Hayes Medical Foundation in downtown Chicago, rustling the bright red banners fluttering from the architectural marvel of glass and steel.
The former abandoned hospice in Evanston had been completely transformed into a state-of-the-art pediatric cancer research center, fully funded by the restructured Moretti Foundation.
On the front steps, surrounded by smiling doctors, grateful families, and local journalists, stood a young girl with bright, healthy eyes and a smile that could melt winter ice.
Clara Hayes stood beside me, wearing a soft pink coat, her hand holding tightly onto mine.
“Are you happy, sweetheart?” I asked, leaning down to adjust her scarf.
“I’m cancer-free for six months, and my big sister runs the most powerful foundation in the Midwest,” Clara beamed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“How could I not be happy?”
A sleek, matte-black armored Cadillac Escalade rolled up to the curb, its tinted window sliding down smoothly.
In the backseat sat Luca Moretti, wearing a tailored charcoal suit and his signature gold signet ring.
He didn't get out immediately.
He just watched us through the open window, a rare, breathtaking smile curving his lips.
I looked down at Clara, then looked back at the man who had burned down an empire to build a sanctuary.
I raised my right hand—the palm now marked by a faint, pale silver scar beneath the smooth skin—and gave him a slow, graceful wave.
Luca opened the car door, stepped out onto the marble pavement, and walked toward us through the autumn sunlight.
May you like
The Chicago underworld had a new king.
And for the first time in a century, the house he built stood in the light.
