Chapter 8 - The Billionaire’s Confession
Sophia’s breath caught in her throat. “Mr. Moretti...?”
“Lorenzo,” he corrected softly. He reached out, his long fingers gently catching a lock of dark hair behind her ear. His touch was unbelievably gentle for a man whose hands commanded empires.
“For three years,” Lorenzo said, his deep voice carrying a raw, vulnerable weight, “this house was a tomb. I lived in the dark. I thought protecting my daughter meant building higher walls, hiring more guards, and keeping my heart completely dead to the world.”
He looked across the room at Emma and Isabella, who were now giggling together while drawing pictures with bright crayons.
“Then a little girl with a pink backpack walked into my home and taught my daughter how to laugh again,” Lorenzo continued, his dark eyes locking onto Sophia’s. “And then I saw her mother... a woman who stood up to a mafia king, faced down death, and never lost her dignity.”
Sophia’s heart thundered against her ribs. “Lorenzo... we come from two completely different worlds. You are a billionaire. A powerful man. I’m just—”
“Don't,” Lorenzo cut her off, placing a warm finger against her lips. “Don't ever say 'just' again. You are stronger than any man I have ever commanded.”
He took both of her hands, bringing them to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against her knuckles.
“I don't want to give you a deed to a house down the coast so you can leave,” Lorenzo whispered, his eyes blazing with intense sincerity. “I want you to stay here. Not as a maid. Not as an employee.”
Sophia trembled. “Then... as what?”
“As the mistress of this house,” Lorenzo declared softly. “As Isabella’s mother. As my equal. As my wife.”
Sophia’s mouth parted in absolute shock. “Wife...?”
Before she could process his words, little feet pattered across the hardwood floor.
Isabella and Emma stood beside them. Isabella was holding Emma’s hand tightly.
“Papa,” Isabella said solemnly, looking up at her father with big, hopeful eyes. “Are you asking Sophia to stay forever?”
Lorenzo smiled down at his daughter. “I am trying to, sweetheart. If she’ll have us.”
Emma let go of Isabella’s hand, stepped forward, and tugged on the hem of Lorenzo’s trousers. The fearsome billionaire mafia boss immediately dropped to his knees so he was eye-level with the toddler.
Emma looked at him, then tapped his chest right over his heart with her small hand.
“Does your heart behave now, Boss Mr. Lorenzo?” Emma asked innocently.
Lorenzo let out a soft laugh, reached out, and pulled tiny Emma into a gentle embrace, resting his chin on her small shoulder.
“No, little guard,” Lorenzo whispered, looking up at Sophia with eyes full of love. “My heart doesn't behave at all anymore. It belongs to you and your mama now.”
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Emma patted his back softly. “That’s okay. Mama says when a heart is happy, it’s supposed to run fast.”
Sophia wiped away a stray tear, a beautiful, radiant smile breaking across her face. She dropped to her knees beside Lorenzo, wrapping her arms around both him and Emma. Isabella squealed with joy and threw herself into the middle of the group hug.
