Chapter 9 - The Permanent Ledger
The final peace of the Moretti family was certified during the summer of 2026. The Grand Avenue Bakery had expanded into a second location in Lincoln Park, its production facility now serving as the main culinary training program for women seeking shelter and employment after escaping domestic environments across the state.
Jenna stood on the terrace of the penthouse suite, the warm July wind carrying the scent of sweet clover from the park below. She wore a simple white linen dress, her hair pinned back, her eyes tracking the smooth movement of the cargo ships moving across the blue horizon of the lake.
Behind her, the glass doors slid open, and Dominic walked out, carrying two small cups of espresso. He had left his jacket inside, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, looking entirely at peace in his own sanctuary.
He handed her a cup, his fingers brushing against hers with that constant, electric warmth that had become her daily anchor.
"The state attorney signed the final dismissal for Rossi’s corporate records this morning, Jenna," Dominic said, leaning his hip against the stone balustrade beside her. "The past is officially dead. There isn't a single line left in the state archive that connects your name to the old precinct."
Jenna took a slow sip of her espresso, looking out at the wide, open water. "It feels strange, Dominic."
"What does?"
"Being this safe," she whispered, turning her head to look into the gray steel of his eyes. "For three years, I used to wake up at three AM just to check if the front door lock was clicking. I used to count the seconds between the elevator ding and the footsteps."
Dominic reached down, his large hand wrapping around the back of her neck, his thumb resting gently against the soft skin behind her ear. He pulled her slightly closer until her forehead was resting against his chin, his chest expanding with a deep, regular breath that sounded like a promise.
"You don't have to count the seconds anymore, Jenna," he said softly. "The tower belongs to you. The logistics belong to you. And the man who answered the phone is never going to log a change in the contract."
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Jenna smiled, her fingers wrapping around his wrist where the platinum watch ticked rhythmically in the sun. She looked back out at the blue lake, her heart entirely still, her soul finally warm.
"Keep talking, Dominic," she whispered against his skin. "I'm listening."
