Chapter 18
Dante proved it by giving something up.
He called a press conference.
Rocco hated the idea.
Samuel hated it more.
Dante did it anyway.
He stood before cameras and said Marco’s son would not inherit leadership of any organization, legal or illegal.
“He inherits his father’s protected assets,” Dante said. “Nothing else is owed to him. Nothing else will be demanded from him.”
A reporter shouted, “Are you saying the Moretti family is finished?”
Dante looked straight into the cameras.
“I’m saying children don’t inherit our mistakes as job descriptions.”
The line ran everywhere.
Some called him weak.
Others called him reformed.
Dante trusted neither version.
Back home, Mateo watched the replay.
“You meant it?”
“Yes.”
“What if I want to run a company someday?”
“Then learn to run one.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Then don’t.”
Mateo nodded.
“Okay.”
That simple answer felt like victory.
Dante turned the old library into a family archive.
Criminal ledgers went to prosecutors.
What remained were photographs, legal records, letters, and Marco’s recovered papers.
In one glass case sat the bronze seal.
No hidden drawer.
Sophia stood in front of it one afternoon.
“Bird thing.”
“Yes.”
“Mine?”
“No.”
“Teo?”
“No.”
“Yours?”
Dante thought.
“No.”
She frowned.
“Then who?”
“The past.”
Sophia accepted that more easily than most adults would have.
Elena entered carrying lemonade.
“Samuel says the last seized properties cleared.”
“How bad?”
“We keep this house, two legitimate companies, and headaches.”
“Luxury.”
She smiled.
Then grew serious.
“Do you miss it?”
“What?”
“Being feared.”
Dante looked toward the window.
Sometimes he did.
Fear was simple.
Trust took work.
“No,” he said.
Elena raised an eyebrow.
“Liar.”
“Less than I expected.”
“That I believe.”
From the hall, Mateo shouted.
“Sophia stole my cookie!”
Sophia yelled back, “Borrow!”
Dante closed his eyes.
Elena laughed.
The house had once been famous for silence.
May you like
Now it was full of arguments about cookies.
He preferred the noise.
