Chapter 6 - The Rose GardenSix months later, the spring sun shone brightly over the rolling green lawns of the Long Island estate.
The cold, clinical atmosphere that had defined the property for decades under my mother's rule was completely gone—replaced by a warm, vibrant sanctuary filled with blooming white hydrangeas, yellow roses, and the sweet, joyous sound of a child's laughter.
Down on the lawn near the marble fountain, four-year-old Lily was running hysterically in her barefoot sandals, chasing a golden retriever puppy across the grass, her small pink backpack discarded on a wooden bench.
I sat on the wide stone terrace wearing a comfortable linen shirt and dark trousers, sipping a fresh glass of iced tea, watching my daughter play.
The heavy glass doors of the terrace opened softly.
Naomi walked out into the warm sunlight.
She wore a beautiful, flowing pale yellow dress that caught the ocean breeze, her dark curls falling in healthy waves over her shoulders. Her skin was radiant, her hazel eyes clear, bright, and filled with deep, unshakeable peace and happiness.
She carried a leather portfolio containing her new brand design contracts for the Moretti Cultural Foundation—an organization we had established to fund arts programs for children across New York.
She walked up beside my chair, leaning down to press a soft, sweet kiss against my lips before sitting on the stone balustrade beside me.
"How are the Q2 foundation reports looking, Director Ellis?" I teased softly, wrapping my arm gently around her waist, pulling her flush against my side.
"Flawless, Chairman Moretti," Naomi smiled back, resting her cheek against my chest, listening to the steady, peaceful beat of my heart. "We've funded twenty new music academies this month alone."
Lily looked up from the lawn, holding her golden retriever puppy in her small arms, shouting at the top of her lungs: "Daddy! Mommy! Look! Barnaby caught the ball!"
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I let out a low, genuine laugh—a sound that echoed warmly across the sunlit terrace—and took Naomi's hand in mine, interlacing my fingers tightly with hers.
"Let's go play with our daughter, Naomi," I whispered softly.
