Chapter 6 - DOMINIC GAVE UP PART OF HIS EMPIRE BEFORE HE EVER ASKED SOPHIA FOR ANOTHER CHANCE
Cleaning Moretti Holdings took three years.
Not three dramatic weeks.
Three years.
Lawyers.
Sales.
Licensing.
Audits.
Tax settlements.
Closed businesses.
Angry relatives.
Former associates suddenly calling Dominic disloyal because he no longer wanted contracts enforced through fear.
His legitimate companies remained.
Warehousing.
Commercial logistics.
Real estate.
Restaurants.
Licensed security.
Some businesses were sold because their books could not survive independent review.
Others closed.
A few triggered regulatory penalties.
Dominic paid them.
No secret fixer.
No judge quietly persuaded.
When government inquiries required cooperation, he cooperated through counsel.
He did not transform into a saint.
Sophia would have hated that story.
He transformed into a man who could finally explain where his money came from without changing the subject.
That was enough.
Moretti Holdings became smaller.
Still worth hundreds of millions.
Nobody needed to cry for Dominic.
Lily certainly didn’t.
When he told her he was selling two private clubs, she asked:
“Do they have ice cream?”
“No.”
“Then okay.”
Business restructuring solved.
Sophia rebuilt too.
After Carlo’s case ended, Harbor Axis offered her reinstatement with back pay.
She declined.
The new management asked why.
Sophia answered:
“Because the last time I raised a financial concern, my employment depended on whether powerful people found it convenient.”
Instead, she joined an independent forensic accounting firm.
Better salary.
No Moretti ownership.
No Dominic.
Her first major case involved a construction supplier hiding rebates.
She loved it.
“People really lie badly when spreadsheets are involved.”
she told Dominic during a parenting handoff.
He smiled.
“You seem happy.”
“I am.”
That made him happier than it should have.
Because by then he had accepted something difficult.
Sophia might never come back to him.
He would still be Lily’s father.
That had to be enough.
Their co-parenting slowly became ordinary.
School plays.
Dentist appointments.
Fever at three in the morning.
Dominic learned what parent-teacher conferences were and initially brought a legal pad.
Sophia stared.
“You’re not deposing the kindergarten teacher.”
“I take notes.”
“You terrify civilians.”
“I said hello.”
“Like a prosecutor.”
Lily’s teacher loved him anyway.
At seven, Lily decided she wanted to play soccer.
Dominic bought six pairs of cleats.
Sophia returned five.
At eight, Lily asked why her parents were not married.
They had prepared for the question.
Sophia answered first.
“Because your dad and I made some choices a long time ago that hurt each other.”
Dominic added:
“Mostly me.”
Sophia looked at him.
“We are not turning this into public self-flagellation.”
Lily frowned.
“What’s flagellation?”
“Nothing.”
Dominic said quickly.
Sophia continued.
“We love you.”
“We are your parents.”
“Being your parents does not require us to be married.”
Lily thought.
“Do you love each other?”
Silence.
Dominic did not look at Sophia.
That was intentional.
He would not trap her with his face.
Sophia answered:
“I care about your father.”
Lily looked at Dominic.
“And you?”
He could have lied.
Didn’t.
“I love your mother.”
Sophia went still.
First time he had said it directly in six? Actually since reunion, yes.
Lily smiled.
“Then easy.”
“No.”
Both adults answered.
Lily sighed.
“Adults make everything hard.”
Accurate.
Nothing changed that day.
Dominic did not use the confession as leverage.
He did not send flowers.
Did not ask Sophia for dinner.
Six months passed.
Then one rainy evening, Sophia called after Lily had gone to bed at Dominic’s.
“Is she okay?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“She finally fell asleep.”
Thunder frightened Lily.
Dominic had spent an hour sitting outside her bedroom door because she said she wanted him nearby but not inside.
Sophia became quiet.
Then:
“Do you still mean it?”
“What?”
“What you told Lily.”
Dominic’s chest tightened.
“Yes.”
Silence.
“I don’t know what to do with that.”
“You don’t have to do anything.”
“That answer is annoyingly healthy.”
“Therapy.”
Sophia laughed softly.
Dominic smiled in the dark hallway.
Then she said:
“I loved you too.”
Past tense.
He heard it.
Accepted it.
“I know.”
“No.”
“You didn’t.”
Fair.
Sophia continued.
“That was the worst part.”
“You made me believe I had imagined us.”
“I know.”
“You told me I had confused access with importance.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“I spent years embarrassed that I had loved someone who apparently thought I was entertainment.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I believe you.”
That hurt differently.
Then:
“But apology does not rewind it.”
“I know.”
Another pause.
Sophia took a breath.
“Would you like to have coffee with me?”
Dominic forgot the English language for approximately three seconds.
“Coffee.”
“Yes.”
“As parents?”
“No.”
He stood.
Then immediately sat because Lily’s door creaked.
Sophia laughed.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Maybe.”
Their first date happened three years and four months after Lily walked into Dominic’s mansion.
Public café.
No guards at the table.
Marco sat somewhere down the street because Dominic still had security needs.
Sophia accepted that reality as long as security did not become her surveillance.
They talked for two hours.
Not about Carlo.
Not about Vescari.
Not about the six lost years until the end.
They discussed work.
Lily.
Books.
The fact Dominic had started cooking one meal.
Pasta.
“It’s edible.”
he said.
“Marco disagrees.”
“Marco works for me.”
“Exactly.”
A second date came three weeks later.
Then four.
Then a year.
Slow.
Painfully slow according to Lily.
“Are you dating yet?”
“Yes.”
Sophia eventually admitted.
“Then when wedding?”
“No.”
Lily collapsed dramatically across the couch.
“I have suffered my whole life.”
Dominic looked at Sophia.
“She’s nine.”
“Very long life.”
Sophia replied.
They laughed.
That sound still felt like something Dominic had once believed he would never hear again.
Then he made a mistake.
At Lily’s school, a parent photographed her and posted an online joke about “the secret Moretti heir.”
Dominic reacted instantly.
Security doubled.
School pickups changed.
Lily’s phone received tracking software.
Sophia discovered it.
She arrived at Dominic’s office furious.
“You put a tracker on her phone?”
“For safety.”
“No.”
Dominic stopped.
Same word.
Same trap.
Sophia continued.
“You did not ask me.”
“Someone published her location.”
“I know.”
“So we need to—”
“We need to decide together.”
Dominic exhaled.
“You’re right.”
Sophia stopped.
She had prepared for an argument.
He continued.
“I’m sorry.”
“The tracker is coming off until we both agree on settings.”
“Yes.”
“We meet with the school.”
“Yes.”
“We talk to Lily.”
“Yes.”
“We use a security consultant she knows.”
“Yes.”
Sophia stared.
“This is less satisfying than fighting.”
“I’m devastated.”
She almost smiled.
That evening they apologized to Lily for changing things without involving her.
Not because nine-year-olds controlled security plans.
Because explaining mattered.
They agreed on limited location sharing during travel and school pickup.
Lily complained.
Then chose the app icon herself.
Progress.
Two years later, Dominic asked Sophia a question.
Not proposal.
“Do you ever want to be married?”
They were walking along Brooklyn Bridge Park while Lily skated ahead.
Sophia looked at him.
“Again?”
“I’ve never been married.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
She thought.
“Maybe.”
Dominic nodded.
That was all.
Sophia stopped walking.
“That’s it?”
“You said maybe.”
“You’re not going to argue your case?”
“I have learned lawyers are expensive.”
She laughed.
Dominic smiled.
Then she took his hand.
May you like
Her choice.
That mattered more than yes.
