Chapter 7 - The Window
Six months later, the shattered penthouse window had long since been replaced.
Amelia still remembered exactly where she had been standing when the first shot came through it.
Now morning sunlight poured through the same glass.
Lily sat at Dante’s desk doing homework.
Dante watched her from his wheelchair.
Amelia entered carrying coffee.
“Why is she in your chair?”
Dante looked at Lily.
“She staged a takeover.”
Lily nodded seriously.
“I’m the boss.”
“You’re supposed to be doing math.”
“I’m doing executive math.”
“What is executive math?”
“Math at a big desk.”
Amelia handed Dante his coffee.
“You encouraged this.”
“Probably.”
Lily held up her worksheet.
“Mr. Dante?”
“Yes?”
“If you have twelve apples and give Mom four, how many do you have?”
“Eight.”
“Wrong.”
Dante frowned.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Mom would take six.”
Amelia stared at her daughter.
Dante laughed.
“Smart kid.”
The past six months had changed the Moretti organization.
Marco and his partners faced prosecution for conspiracy, financial crimes, and the plot against Dante.
Security had been rebuilt.
Dante had removed men whose loyalty depended only on fear.
Vincent now ran operations with a transparency Dante once would have considered weakness.
And Amelia?
She was still his assistant.
Technically.
Her desk had moved into his office.
Her toothbrush had moved into his bathroom.
Lily’s drawings had somehow spread across three rooms.
Dante claimed he hated them.
He had framed four.
That afternoon, Amelia found him alone beside the window.
“You’re supposed to be downstairs.”
“So are you.”
“The car is waiting.”
“I know.”
Lily’s school performance began in forty minutes.
Dante adjusted his cuff.
Amelia noticed his tie was crooked.
She stepped closer and fixed it.
Six months earlier, she had learned the exact angle without acknowledging how closely he watched her.
Now she noticed.
“You’re staring again.”
“Yes.”
“Still claiming personal privilege?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
Dante caught her hand before she stepped away.
“Amelia.”
Something in his voice stopped her.
“What?”
He looked toward the window.
“The day you pulled me away from here, I thought you had made the stupidest decision of your life.”
“I probably had.”
“I fired you because I couldn’t stand the idea of your daughter losing you because of me.”
“I know.”
“I spent years thinking survival meant making sure nobody mattered enough to become a weakness.”
Amelia leaned against the desk.
“And then?”
“Then your daughter walked into my house with a broken rabbit and twelve dollars.”
“She still has the twelve dollars.”
“She’s financially disciplined.”
Amelia laughed.
Dante’s expression became serious.
“You were right.”
“That sentence deserves to be recorded.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
She smiled.
“Continue.”
“Caring about someone isn’t the weakness.”
He tightened his fingers around hers.
“Giving the wrong person your trust is.”
Amelia looked at him.
“And what about giving the right person your trust?”
Dante answered quietly.
“That gave me my life back.”
For once, Amelia had no sarcastic response.
So she kissed him.
A voice immediately came from the doorway.
“Gross.”
They separated.
Lily stood there wearing a blue dress, her stuffed rabbit under one arm.
Amelia sighed.
“You were supposed to knock.”
“I did.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I thought about knocking.”
Dante nodded.
“Close enough.”
“Do I still have to do the school performance?”
“Yes,” both adults answered.
Lily groaned.
“Fine.”
She walked over to Dante.
Then she held out her hand.
“Come on.”
Dante looked at it.
“Where?”
“My school.”
“I’m aware.”
“You're slow.”
Amelia covered a laugh.
Dante narrowed his eyes.
“I control several hundred employees.”
“Mom says being important doesn't make people faster.”
Dante looked accusingly at Amelia.
“Your influence is becoming a problem.”
“My job is anticipating complications.”
Lily grabbed Dante’s hand.
“Come on.”
Dante let her pull his hand forward even though the wheelchair had not moved an inch.
Amelia took the handles.
For a moment, she remembered another day.
Broken glass.
A gunshot from far away.
Her hands closing around these same handles.
She had pulled Dante backward then to save his life.
Now she pushed him forward.
Toward the elevator.
Toward Lily’s school.
Toward something none of them had expected to become.
A family.
The elevator doors opened.
Lily stepped inside first.
“Hurry!”
Dante looked up at Amelia.
“Apparently I’m no longer in charge.”
“You haven't been for months.”
“Amelia?”
“Yes?”
He smiled.
“I’m not firing you.”
She pushed his wheelchair into the elevator.
“Good.”
The doors began closing.
May you like
“Because I’d just say no.”
THE END
