Chapter 8 - The Second Proposal
Dante did not propose with a diamond.
Smart man.
Claire would have thrown it into the East River.
Instead, a year after his release, he took her to the Grand Meridian Hotel.
The same ballroom.
Empty this time.
Claire stopped at the doorway.
“No.”
Dante smiled.
“Trust me.”
“That phrase has historically been dangerous in your family.”
“Fair.”
Inside, one table stood beneath the chandeliers.
Three chairs.
Eva sat at one, grinning.
“You’re involved?”
“Maybe.”
Claire looked suspiciously at both.
Dante pulled out a chair.
They ate pasta from the hotel kitchen.
No gala.
No hundred-million-dollar donors.
No politicians.
After dessert, Eva stood.
“I have a speech.”
Claire covered her face.
“Of course.”
Eva read from a card.
“Three years ago—”
“Five,” Dante corrected.
Eva glared.
“Do not interrupt the speaker.”
Dante raised both hands.
She continued.
“Five years ago I found Mommy here.”
Claire’s eyes filled.
Eva smiled.
“And then everyone had therapy.”
Dante laughed.
Claire nearly fell out of her chair.
Eva continued:
“And Daddy went to prison.”
“Strong speech,” Dante muttered.
“And Mommy got mad at lots of people.”
Claire nodded.
“Accurate.”
“And now we are better.”
Simple.
True enough.
Eva folded the card.
“So Daddy has a question.”
Claire looked at Dante.
He was not kneeling.
Good.
He remained seated across from her.
Equal.
“Claire.”
“Yes?”
“I married Isabella when I thought love meant I had to protect everything around us.”
She listened.
“I learned too late that protecting lies destroys people.”
His voice shook slightly.
“I don’t want you because you were my wife.”
Claire’s chest tightened.
“I want you because I know who you are now.”
He slid a small box across the table.
Claire opened it.
Inside was not Isabella’s old ring.
A new one.
Simple.
Beside it sat the old wedding ring Eleanor had returned through investigators.
Dante said:
“You choose.”
Claire stared.
“Choose what?”
“The old ring, the new ring, or neither.”
She laughed through tears.
“You practiced that.”
“Many times.”
She picked up the old ring.
Dante stopped breathing.
Then she placed it back in the box.
She picked up the new one.
“This one.”
His eyes filled.
“Why?”
“Because I’m not going backward.”
He nodded.
“Neither am I.”
Claire smiled.
“Yes.”
Eva screamed.
Guests in the adjacent hallway probably heard.
Dante laughed and finally stood.
He placed the ring on Claire’s finger.
Then Eva shoved herself between them.
“Family hug.”
They obeyed.
The wedding happened six months later.
Small.
Brooklyn garden.
Eva wore blue.
Of course.
Marco stood beside Dante.
Claire walked herself down the aisle.
No father giving her away.
Nobody owned her.
Dante’s vows were short.
“I promise not to decide for you in the name of protecting you.”
Claire answered:
“I promise to remind you loudly.”
Everyone laughed.
Then she added:
“And I promise to choose you honestly, not because of who we were, but because of who you are becoming.”
Dante cried.
Openly.
Eva whispered:
“He’s doing the face.”
Claire laughed mid-vow.
Perfect.
After the ceremony, a reporter waited outside the garden gate.
Dante’s security moved.
Claire stopped them.
The reporter called:
“Mrs. Valenti, do you consider this a happy ending?”
Claire looked at Dante.
Then Eva.
Then the people around them.
She answered:
“No.”
The reporter blinked.
Claire smiled.
“It’s a better beginning.”
That night, Dante received a message from federal investigators.
New evidence from Adrian.
One final account.
Money belonging to Vincent.
Millions hidden offshore.
Legally recoverable by Dante as heir.
Claire watched him read.
“What?”
He showed her.
“What will you do?”
Dante stared at the number.
Old life.
Old power.
Then:
“Give it back.”
“To whom?”
“The families.”
Counterfeit medication victims.
Claire smiled.
“Good answer.”
May you like
Dante deleted the message after forwarding it to attorneys.
Then went back inside to dance with his wife.
