Chapter 4 - THE MAFIA BOSS WAS READY TO TRADE HIS ENTIRE EMPIRE FOR TALIA’S LITTLE SISTER—BUT HIS PREGNANT BRIDE REFUSED TO LET ANOTHER MORETTI MAN DECIDE WHAT HER FAMILY WAS WORTH
Salvatore chose Pier Seventeen.
Of course he did.
Men obsessed with power also tended to be obsessed with symbolism.
The same warehouse where I had first met Kieran.
The same concrete floor where he had offered my brother's life in exchange for marriage.
Now we returned together.
Everything was different.
I was seven months pregnant.
Kieran no longer pretended he controlled me.
Isabella no longer wanted him dead.
Ryder had been kidnapped instead of framed.
And Lily, my eight-year-old sister, had somehow become the most important person in a war created decades before she was born.
Federal agents surrounded the district.
Salvatore had counter-surveillance.
A direct assault risked Lily.
So we entered.
Me.
Kieran.
Isabella.
Kieran carried the trust documents.
Salvatore waited.
Ryder was tied to the same chair.
Lily sat beside him.
She saw me.
“Talia!”
My entire body moved toward her.
Kieran did not stop me.
Salvatore's man did.
Gun raised.
I froze.
“Release them,” Kieran said.
Salvatore smiled.
“Still giving orders.”
“You wanted us here.”
“I wanted the documents.”
Kieran held them up.
“And Isabella.”
She stepped forward.
“And Talia.”
I placed a hand over my stomach.
Salvatore smiled.
“The heir.”
Kieran's face became stone.
“Don't call my child that.”
“It's what the child is.”
“No.”
Kieran looked at me.
“Our child is a child.”
I nearly cried.
Salvatore laughed.
“She's softened you.”
“No.”
Kieran looked at his uncle.
“She taught me the difference between protecting something and owning it.”
“Pathetic.”
“Perhaps.”
Kieran dropped the trust onto the floor.
“Take it.”
Salvatore stared.
“What?”
“I renounce control.”
Silence.
Even I had not known.
“Kieran.”
He looked at me.
“I signed the papers this morning.”
Salvatore's face changed.
Kieran continued.
“My voting shares transfer into an independent employee trust. Isabella receives her lawful inheritance. Our child receives nothing from the criminal holdings.”
Salvatore looked horrified.
“You can't.”
“Already done.”
“You destroyed the family.”
“No.”
Kieran's voice became quiet.
“I ended the reason you kept destroying it.”
Salvatore pulled a gun.
Everything happened quickly.
He aimed at Kieran.
Isabella moved.
Ryder knocked his chair sideways into one guard.
I ran toward Lily.
Gunfire exploded.
Kieran tackled Salvatore.
I reached Lily.
“Talia!”
“I've got you.”
I covered her with my body.
Then pain ripped through my abdomen.
Not a bullet.
A contraction.
No.
Too early.
Another came.
I gasped.
Ryder reached us.
“What's wrong?”
“The baby.”
His face went white.
Agents stormed the warehouse.
Salvatore was arrested.
Kieran ran toward me.
He saw my face.
“What?”
“Hospital.”
The drive became a blur.
Contractions.
Sirens.
Kieran's hand.
“Stay with me.”
“I'm not dying.”
“I know.”
“You look like I'm dying.”
“I can't control my face.”
“Learn.”
At the hospital, doctors stopped the labor.
Barely.
Our daughter remained inside.
Safe.
Kieran sat beside my bed afterward.
He looked destroyed.
“You renounced the trust.”
“Yes.”
“You didn't tell me.”
“I wasn't hiding it.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I was going to tell you after we got Lily.”
“That's hiding it with scheduling.”
“Fair.”
“Why?”
He looked toward my stomach.
“Because I don't want our daughter born owing anything to the Moretti name.”
“Daughter?”
His eyes widened.
The doctor had accidentally revealed it during the emergency.
I smiled.
“Apparently.”
Kieran started crying.
Again.
“You cry a lot for a terrifying criminal.”
“Keep that private.”
“No chance.”
Salvatore's arrest opened everything.
Financial records.
Murders.
Extortion.
The bombing that nearly killed Isabella.
Dennis Colfax's cooperation.
Corrupt officers.
Judges.
Kieran made a decision.
He cooperated too.
I knew what that meant.
Prison.
He admitted crimes committed during his years running the organization.
Not Salvatore's crimes.
His.
I did not ask him to.
That mattered.
Three weeks before my due date, Kieran came home.
“We need to talk.”
“I hate that sentence.”
“I accepted a plea.”
My heart stopped.
“How long?”
“Three years.”
I closed my eyes.
“Kieran.”
“I could fight.”
“But?”
“I would probably win some counts.”
“And?”
He looked at me.
“I don't want my daughter learning that accountability is something other people do.”
I cried.
“You're going to miss everything.”
“I know.”
“Her first steps.”
“Maybe.”
“Her first words.”
“Probably.”
I hated him for being right.
I loved him for choosing it himself.
Then he said:
“I want to marry you.”
I stared.
“Absolutely not.”
His face fell.
“Okay.”
That immediate acceptance almost made me laugh.
“You don't get to propose because you're going to prison.”
“I wasn't—”
“You absolutely were.”
He considered.
“Partially.”
“No.”
“Understood.”
“If we're ever getting married, it will happen after you come home.”
He stared.
“After?”
“If I still want you.”
A slow smile appeared.
“Fair.”
Our daughter was born twelve days later.
Kieran was there.
He held my hand.
I threatened him creatively.
Marlow attended and provided commentary until a nurse expelled her.
Then a cry filled the room.
Our daughter.
Seven pounds, two ounces.
Dark hair.
Furious lungs.
Kieran sobbed.
The nurse placed her in his arms.
He stared.
“Hi.”
I laughed weakly.
“Still terrible at speeches.”
He looked at me.
“Name?”
We had argued for months.
Finally:
“Hope,” I said.
Kieran nodded.
Hope Moretti Renlow.
He surrendered to federal custody six weeks later.
At the courthouse, he kissed Hope.
Then Lily.
Then Ryder.
Finally me.
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“That's cruel.”
“I love you too.”
He smiled.
“Wait for me?”
I looked at him.
“No.”
His smile disappeared.
I continued.
“I'll live.”
Understanding entered his face.
“And when you come home, we'll see who we are.”
Kieran nodded.
“Good.”
He walked toward the marshals.
I held our daughter.
I did not promise a fairy tale.
I promised myself something better.
No more bargains made with lives.
No more love confused with debt.
No more Moretti men deciding what my family was worth.
May you like
Three years would tell us whether Kieran had truly changed.
And whether the love that began with one anonymous night could survive when neither of us owed the other anything.
