Chapter 8 - The Queen of River NorthSix months after the fall of the Moretti family.
The historic Viscari penthouse in River North had been completely renovated.
The cold, sterile, hidden-camera atmosphere was gone, replaced by warm hardwood floors, large oil paintings, soft velvet sofas, and vibrant green indoor gardens.
I no longer cleaned the windows on a ladder.
As the Vice President of the Viscari Legacy Trust and Director of the Sofia Medical Foundation, I managed multi-million-dollar philanthropic networks, spoke at medical advocacy summits, and oversaw community housing projects across Illinois.
On a warm Saturday evening, the penthouse hosted a private family dinner.
Matthew, now eighteen and preparing to enter Northwestern University’s pre-med program on a full academic scholarship, sat at the dining table laughing with Marco and the estate staff.
I stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glowing Chicago skyline, holding a glass of sparkling water, wearing a stunning burgundy silk dress.
Vincent stepped up beside me, slipping his arm comfortably around my waist, pulling me close against his side.
“You look breathtaking tonight, Lucy,” Vincent murmured against my ear, kissing my cheek.
“I feel whole, Vincent,” I smiled, leaning my head against his shoulder, looking out at the city lights reflecting off Lake Michigan. “For the first time in my life, I feel completely whole.”
“You brought life back into this house, songbird,” Vincent said softly, taking my hand into his, his thumb gently rubbing my knuckles. “You brought my family back.”
Across the dining room, Matthew raised his glass in a warm, joyful toast.
“To family!” Matthew cheered.
May you like
“To family!” we all echoed in unison, our voices ringing warmly through the sunlit penthouse.
The dark shadows of the past were gone forever.
