Chapter 7 - The Inheritance of Fire
Three weeks later, the Moretti mansion was quiet once more—not the cold, sterile silence of a fortress built on paranoia, but the heavy, breathing quiet of a home learning how to live again.
In the expansive private garden overlooking the Mediterranean, Rocco sat at a wrought-iron table, reviewing architectural blueprints for the estate's new security wing. But today, his attention wasn't entirely on the documents.
A few feet away, sitting on a velvet picnic blanket under the shade of an ancient olive tree, eight-year-old Sophia was carefully feeding a silver spoon of apple puree to a chubby, bright-eyed infant wearing a clean white cotton onesie.
"He likes the sweet ones," Sophia announced, looking up as Rocco walked over.
Rocco knelt down on one knee, ignoring the dirt touching his custom leather shoes. He reached out calloused fingers, and baby Leo grabbed onto his index finger with surprising, unbreakable strength.
"He has a strong grip," Rocco murmured, a rare, faint smile touching his lips.
"He's going to be a boss," Sophia said matter-of-factly, wiping a speck of puree from the baby's chin with a cloth napkin. "Or an engineer. He always watches how the mechanical gate moves."
Rocco chuckled softly, standing back up and looking toward the main gates of the estate. Elena walked out carrying a tray of espresso and fresh pastries, nodding respectfully to the man who owned their world—and had just rewritten it.
"Sophia," Rocco said, his voice carrying a quiet weight.
"Yes, Mr. Moretti?"
"Your mother told me you want to study architecture when you grow up."
Sophia blinked, her dark eyes sharpening with curiosity. "I want to design buildings that don't have blind spots."
Rocco nodded slowly, reaching into his coat pocket and placing a small, heavy brass key on the picnic blanket beside the baby's bottle. It wasn't just any key. It was the master blueprint key to every door, vault, and tunnel in the Moretti estate—the one key Valentina had tried to steal, and the one key no servant had ever been allowed to touch.
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"Then start with the east wing," Rocco said quietly. "You have full access."
Sophia stared at the brass key, then up at the mafia boss. She didn't smile, but she gave a single, solemn nod of understanding.
