Chapter 7 - A New Horizon
The sun began to dip below the Chicago skyline, casting long, golden streaks across the glass and steel of the city.
That evening, my brothers had organized a celebratory dinner at our family estate—not a formal gathering with fifty terrified socialites and floating champagne towers, but a simple, warm family dinner around the long oak dining table in the backyard garden.
The air smelled of grilled steak, fresh basil, and blooming lilacs.
Matteo was arguing loudly with Nico about sports statistics while Gabriel tried to explain tax law over their shouting. Luca was pouring glasses of aged Barolo wine, and Dominic was manning the grill, laughing as the smoke drifted up toward the evening stars.
I sat at the end of the long wooden table, wrapped in a light cashmere cardigan, watching the chaotic, beautiful symphony of my family.
For three years, I had believed that love meant enduring suffering. I had believed that silence was strength, and that shrinking myself to fit inside someone else’s broken world was the price of being a wife.
I had been so wrong.
Strength wasn't staying silent while you were broken. Strength was picking up the phone, calling the people who loved you unconditionally, and letting them burn down the cages built around you.
Dominic walked over from the grill, placing a warm plate of food in front of me before sitting down in the empty chair beside mine. He raised his glass of wine toward me, his green eyes catching the amber glow of the patio string lights.
“To new beginnings,” Dominic said softly.
I picked up my glass, clinking it gently against his with a clear, resonant ring that echoed softly into the quiet night air.
May you like
“To new beginnings,” I smiled.
The past was behind me—locked away in a federal prison cell where it belonged. Ahead of me lay a world entirely of my own making, bright, unbroken, and entirely free.
