Page 92 of Married to the Ruthless Mafia Heir

Dante stood too, taking my hand. "Tomorrow I'll be in the front row with Jenny and Maggie."

"Good."

The day of the show, the venue was in Manhattan's most bustling district. Under a massive white dome, the runway was laid with pale marble, with packed seating on both sides. Top models wore my wedding gowns, one after another, trains trailing across the runway, shimmering under the lights.

The audience was packed.

All of New York's major families came—the Malcolms, the Lombardis, the Rivieras... Those faces that once looked at me appraisingly at the Moretti wedding now wore genuine smiles, applauding for me.

Luca sat in the front row, raising his glass to me.

My gaze moved past the crowd to the center of the audience.

Dante sat there in the black suit I'd designed for him, his eyes following me the entire time. Beside him, Maggie held Jenny. Little Jenny wore the princess dress I'd made by hand, waving her arms excitedly, shouting "Mommy!"

"Mommy! Mommy!"

My eyes stung.

On the runway, the final model walked out in the closing piece—the most important work I'd designed for this show. White train covered in hand-sewn pearls, flowing like a river of stars under the lights.

The room erupted in applause.

The host handed me the mic. "Let's welcome today's star, emerging independent designer, Elena Moretti!"

The spotlight hit me. I stood at the end of the runway, looking at the people I loved below.

I walked toward the audience with the mic, stopping in front of Dante, reaching out my hand.

"Dante, I want to stand with you."

Dante paused, then smiled. He stood, took my hand, and walked onto the runway. Maggie, holding Jenny, followed.

I crouched down, lifting Jenny into my arms, settling her there.

Under the spotlight, I held the mic, looking at the camera and everyone below.

"Dear girls," I said. "If you're watching this show, please believe—someday, you'll find your own happiness. You'll wear a Jenny gown and walk to someone who truly loves you."

"Just like me."

The room went silent for a moment. Then applause surged like a tide.

Jenny rested on my shoulder, mimicking the adults, clapping her little hands twice. Everyone laughed.

Dante stood beside me, his arm around my waist. He didn't speak. Just looked into my eyes. There was light in them.

I squeezed his hand tight.

The spotlight was bright, but I knew—my light wasn't on this stage.

My light was him.

Was Jenny.

Was Maggie.

It was each of them, lighting the way for that little maid who once walked with her head down in Moretti Manor, step by step, until she became who she was today.