Chapter 7 - The Engagement Ring He Gave Me Was Not the One Everyone Expected
Six months later, Matteo proposed.
Not at a restaurant.
Not in front of the family.
At the clinic where Eva had worked.
He had renovated it.
The building served low-income patients.
Free medicine.
Free legal assistance.
A wing named after Eva.
I walked through it in silence.
Then I saw a room.
My sister's old office.
Her photographs were on the wall.
Matteo stood beside the desk.
“I wanted you to see it.”
I touched the frame.
“She would have loved this.”
“I know.”
He stepped closer.
Then dropped to one knee.
I laughed through tears.
“You're kidding.”
“No.”
“You're the most feared man in Manhattan.”
“Not relevant.”
He opened the box.
A simple ring.
No giant diamond.
No family crest.
Just a small stone.
“My mother wore this.”
I stared.
“You're giving it to me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She wanted you safe.”
I cried.
Matteo took a breath.
“I can't promise I'll make your life easy.”
“I know.”
“I can promise you will always have a choice.”
I looked at him.
“You're learning.”
He smiled.
“I had an excellent teacher.”
I took his hand.
“Yes.”
He slipped the ring onto my finger.
Then he stood.
I kissed him.
It was soft.
Quiet.
Nothing like the first night.
No audience.
No threats.
No blood.
Only love.
But we still had one problem.
Matteo's position.
He was still powerful.
People still feared him.
The city still whispered his name.
We needed a way to ensure no one could use the Duca name against us again.
So Matteo signed legal documents transferring control of the remaining businesses into independent trusts.
No single person could control them.
He made Luca chief security director.
He gave me full control of the foundation.
And he gave Emily a trust for education.
We were building something different.
Not an empire.
A legacy.
One evening, I found Matteo in the old dining room at the hotel.
He was standing by the table.
I stopped.
“This is where it happened.”
“Yes.”
“You remember?”
“Everything.”
He touched the edge of the table.
“I remember you on your knees.”
I winced.
He noticed.
“I don't mean it the way they did.”
“I know.”
“You looked small.”
“I felt small.”
“You aren't.”
He turned.
“I saw that before you saw it.”
I smiled.
“You were very dramatic.”
“I am told.”
I stepped closer.
He pulled out a chair.
“Dinner?”
“At table twelve?”
“Yes.”
I laughed.
“Why?”
“Because I'm reclaiming the memory.”
We sat.
No politicians.
No enemies.
No engagement contract.
Just us.
Then Matteo said:
“I have one more thing.”
“What?”
He reached into his pocket.
A folded black coat.
The same coat.
The one from that first night.
I laughed.
“You kept it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it reminds me where I met you.”
I touched it.
“You could have bought me a new one.”
“I know.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“I know.”
“You're sentimental.”
“Only with you.”
I smiled.
He draped it across my shoulders.
Just like the first time.
May you like
But now I wasn't wearing it because he wanted to protect me from a room full of people.
I wore it because he had become home.
