Chapter 10 - L’ÉTOILE D’OR
One year later.
The autumn sun shone brightly over the Manhattan waterfront. The building that had once housed L’Étoile Noir had undergone a complete transformation. The dark, pretentious decor was gone, replaced by soaring glass windows, warm wooden accents, and an open, welcoming atmosphere that breathed life into the historic district.
Above the entrance, a new sign hung in polished brass: L’Étoile d’Or—The Golden Star.
Inside, the grand dining room was filled with the happy chatter of guests, music, and the delicious aroma of world-class cuisine. But this restaurant was different. Half of the proceeds from L’Étoile d’Or were directed into the Étienne Dubois Foundation, an organization dedicated to providing legal aid and housing for underprivileged families wrongly accused by powerful institutions.
I stood near table four—the very table where my life had changed forever—wearing a custom-tailored emerald green dress. I was no longer a waitress wiping down tables in fear; I was the co-owner and director of the foundation.
"Everything looks perfect, Mrs. Moretti," Gianni said with a respectful nod as he walked past, wearing a sharp suit and a warm smile.
Mrs. Moretti. The name still brought a joyful blush to my cheeks. Six months ago, Alessandro and I had been married in a quiet, beautiful ceremony on the coast of Lake Como, surrounded by people who truly cared for us.
A pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind, and Alessandro rested his chin on my shoulder, kissing the side of my neck.
"Thinking about the past?" he asked softly, looking out at the bustling dining room.
"Thinking about how crazy life is," I replied, turning in his arms to face him. "A year ago, I was holding a bottle of sparkling water right here, wondering if I would have a place to sleep the next day."
"And now you own the place," Alessandro said, his eyes filled with fierce pride and endless devotion. "And you own my heart."
"Is Count De Luca ordering the 1982 Bordeaux tonight?" I teased, leaning into his chest.
Alessandro chuckled, pulling a velvet box from his jacket pocket and opening it. Inside sat a magnificent custom signet ring, crafted in white gold, bearing the combined crests of the Dubois and Moretti families—a fox's eye surrounded by golden stars.
He slipped the ring onto my finger beside my wedding band, kissing my knuckles gently.
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"I don't need the 1982 Bordeaux," Alessandro whispered, looking deep into my eyes with a love that had rewritten both our destinies. "I already have the rarest treasure in the world."
Hand in hand, we walked through the bustling restaurant into the warm afternoon sunlight, the dark shadows of our past finally replaced by an undeniable, brilliant future.
