A Ghost Stands Between Me And The Mafia Boss I Love Chapter 09
I looked down at Valeria.
At the woman who had given me life and then personally pushed me toward collapse.
In the past few days, those shattered memories had actually started coming back piece by piece.
Yes. I remembered.
But I didn’t want to forgive anyone.
I stepped back and pulled my leg out of her grasp.
“Ms. Moretti.”
Her face went pale.
“When I was sick, I looked for you. I saw you outside the family office in Lower Manhattan. I even chased you down outside a restaurant in Little Italy.”
“But you hid behind your hat and sunglasses. You never once turned around to look at me.”
Her eyes went wide with shock. “You… you remembered?”
I didn’t answer.
“In your note, you said you would trade your life for my marriage.”
I let out a soft laugh.
“Now your life has been returned to you. As for that marriage-I don’t want it anymore.”
With that, I shut the door.
Valeria’s broken sobs soon came from outside.
I looked through the peephole. Lorenzo came running from the stairwell. He didn’t have an umbrella. He was soaked through.
He helped Valeria up, but his eyes stayed fixed on my closed door. Nothing but despair remained in
them.
He didn’t leave. He stood outside all night.
The next morning, the rain finally stopped.
I opened the door.
Lorenzo was still in the hallway. His clothes were half dry, his face pale, his eyes bloodshot.
When he saw me, his eyes lit up. His voice was cautious, almost submissive.
“Celeste. You remember everything now, don’t you?”
I handed him a document.
It was the same divorce agreement.
My signature was already on it.
“This is the last time. If you don’t sign, my lawyers will formally file for divorce in the New York
State court.”
I looked at him.
“If this goes to court, there’s no hiding any of it. Valeria’s faked death, the lawyers, the safe house money-it all gets dragged into the light.”
The last bit of color drained from Lorenzo’s face.
“Celeste.”
“Please.”
He reached for the hem of my clothes.
“Give me one more chance. The Vitale family assets, the legitimate businesses, everything under my name-you can have any of it. I’ll even give up the Don position. We can start over. Please?”
I looked down at him.
But in my mind, I saw the hospital stairwell.
The way he had told Bianca in that tender voice: Keep wearing the bracelet. Be good, and don’t
overthink.
“Lorenzo,” I said softly.
“Some things die, and that’s it. Like Valeria’s death certificate. And like the love I once had for you.”
I put the pen in his hand.
“Don’t make me take that from you too.”
Lorenzo’s hand shook badly.
He stared at me hard, like he was still searching my face for any trace of softness.
There was none.
Finally, he lowered his head. Tears fell onto the paper.
Then, stroke by stroke, he signed his name at the bottom of the agreement.
Lorenzo Vitale.
I took the document back. I didn’t look at him again. I turned and walked downstairs.
Early winter sunlight slanted through the gaps between buildings in Brooklyn. The air was cold and
clear.
I stood by the street and took a deep breath.
Once, I was the daughter of the Moretti family. I was the wife of the Don of the Vitale family.
I was the one responsible for sorting out the books, intelligence, and secrets of two families-yet I couldn’t see my own marriage clearly.
From now on, I’m none of those things.
The nightmare that had lasted for years ended completely that morning.
And my life, at last, began again.
