My father cleared his throat.“We should go inside. Your mother has been waiting a long time to see you.”The moment we reached the estate, I hurried upstairs.My mother was propped against the headboard in her bedroom. More than half her hair had turned white, and her face was thinner than I remembered.But when she saw me, her tired eyes immediately brightened.“Elena.”She held out her hand.I dropped to my knees beside the bed and pressed my face into her palm.“I’m staying,” I said.I lowered my forehead to the back of her hand.“I’m never leaving you again.”A few days later, I placed a redevelopment proposal in front of Lorenzo.He was sitting in the Moretti estate’s library, reviewing a shipping manifest from Naples. He set it aside and opened my proposal.Every section included its own financial model and risk assessment. The notes beneath each projection identified permit deadlines and approval windows down to the exact week.After reading the first three pages, Lorenzo close
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