Chapter 14 - The Choice Damian Never Expected
Clara went.
Not because Vittorio deserved it.
Because Thomas did.
Vittorio looked ancient in the prison hospital.
Machines surrounded him.
His arrogance had finally lost its physical armor.
Clara sat beyond reach.
“You asked for me.”
Vittorio opened his eyes.
“Thomas knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I was going to kill him.”
Clara went cold.
“He could have escaped.”
“Why didn't he?”
“Because I threatened you.”
Her throat tightened.
Vittorio explained.
Thomas had planned to leave the country with Clara.
Vittorio discovered it.
He told Thomas that if he vanished, Clara would die.
So Thomas stayed.
He spent his final days building evidence instead.
“He traded his life for yours.”
Clara's eyes filled.
“Why tell me?”
Vittorio stared at the ceiling.
“Because Damian won't come.”
That surprised her.
“You want your son.”
“He is finished with me.”
“Yes.”
Vittorio closed his eyes.
“I thought fear kept people loyal.”
Clara said nothing.
“I was wrong.”
It wasn't redemption.
It wasn't enough.
Some acts could not be balanced by regret.
Clara stood.
“Did my father beg?”
Vittorio opened his eyes.
“No.”
She waited.
“He told me you would grow up without me ever touching what was good in you.”
Clara's tears fell.
“He was right.”
She left.
Vittorio died three days later.
Damian did not attend the private burial.
Neither did Rosa.
Gabriel went alone.
He said someone should.
Life continued.
That was perhaps the strangest part.
After murder, betrayal, trials, headlines, and secrets, mornings still arrived.
Coffee still cooled.
Bills still appeared.
Paintings still cracked.
People still needed breakfast.
Clara understood why her father had loved restoration.
It wasn't about pretending damage never happened.
It was about preventing damage from becoming the only thing anyone could see.
She and Damian planned their wedding.
Twelve guests.
A garden.
No media.
Rosa complained.
“Twelve?”
“You wanted small,” Damian reminded her.
“I wanted tasteful. Twelve is a hostage exchange.”
They compromised at twenty-eight.
Vanessa was not invited.
But Clara received a letter from her.
No request to attend.
Only congratulations.
Clara kept it.
The night before the wedding, she couldn't sleep.
She went to the restoration center.
Lorenzo's portrait stood finished.
Thomas's photograph sat nearby.
Damian found her.
“Cold feet?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“You?”
“Terrified.”
She laughed.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Of marrying me?”
“Of disappointing you.”
Clara became serious.
“You will.”
Damian blinked.
“That wasn't the expected answer.”
“You'll disappoint me. I'll disappoint you. We'll argue. You'll become impossible.”
“Become?”
She ignored him.
“The point isn't never failing each other.”
She touched his face.
“The point is what we do afterward.”
Damian kissed her palm.
“I can work with that.”
The next afternoon, Clara walked toward him through Rosa's garden.
No enormous ballroom.
No hundreds of guests.
No photographers screaming.
Damian wore a dark suit.
Clara wore a simple ivory dress.
When she reached him, he whispered, “No paint.”
“Yet.”
He almost laughed during the ceremony.
They exchanged vows.
Simple ones.
No promises of perfection.
Only truth.
Choice.
Home.
Then the officiant pronounced them husband and wife.
Damian kissed her.
Rosa cried.
Anthony pretended not to.
Gabriel didn't bother pretending.
At dinner, Clara noticed an empty chair.
She hadn't requested it.
Damian had.
A small card sat there.
THOMAS HAYES.
Clara looked at Damian.
He said nothing.
He didn't need to.
Late that evening, after everyone left, Clara stood beneath garden lights.
Damian approached.
“Mrs. Moretti.”
She frowned.
“Don't get comfortable.”
“Clara Hayes-Moretti?”
“Negotiable.”
“Mrs. Terrifying?”
“Better.”
He wrapped his arms around her.
For once, there was no emergency.
No ringing phone.
No secret room.
No hidden card.
Then Clara's phone rang.
She stared at it.
Damian sighed.
“You said that out loud, didn't you?”
“I thought it.”
“Apparently that's enough.”
Unknown number.
Clara answered.
“Hello?”
A man's voice said, “Is this Clara Hayes?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Daniel Brooks. I'm an attorney in Boston.”
Clara looked at Damian.
“Okay.”
“I represented your father shortly before his death.”
Her smile vanished.
“There is a sealed document he instructed me not to release until you married or turned thirty-five, whichever came first.”
Clara's heart began pounding.
“I married today.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Your father arranged a monitoring service through my firm.”
Damian's expression hardened.
“What document?”
The attorney paused.
“Not something I can discuss over the phone.”
“Why?”
“Because it concerns a child.”
Clara stopped breathing.
“What child?”
Another pause.
Then the attorney said a name.
A name Clara had seen once in Thomas's journal.
Beside the words:
May you like
KEEP HER SAFE.
And suddenly Clara understood her father had left one secret that had nothing to do with the Morettis.
