Twenty-Two Months
Chapter 10 - Twenty-Two Months
The government asked for thirty months.
Luca’s lawyers asked for twelve.
The judge chose twenty-two.
No one called it victory.
The courtroom heard facts.
Not family mythology.
Luca admitted directing coercive commercial pressure against property holdouts.
Admitted a casino licensing bribe.
Admitted knowingly maintaining illegal betting-credit operations after taking control from his father.
Admitted using legitimate businesses to support criminal cash flow during the first years of his leadership.
Then the government described cooperation.
He had produced records.
Opened old property files.
Identified contractors.
Waived corporate claims against several legacy tenants.
Helped regulators separate lawful Moretti businesses from criminal operations.
That mattered.
It did not erase anything.
The judge said so.
“You inherited a structure built on intimidation.”
Luca listened.
“You also made adult decisions to preserve parts of it.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Your father’s conduct explains history.”
Pause.
“It does not serve your sentence.”
Luca nodded.
Emma watched from the gallery.
That line stayed.
Then Luca spoke.
He did not mention Emma.
Did not mention ravioli.
Did not mention Vanessa.
Better.
“I spent years thinking I was better than the men before me because I used fewer violent methods.”
Silence.
“I replaced some fear with contracts.”
Another pause.
“I kept enough fear underneath the contracts that people still understood what I wanted.”
Emma’s throat tightened.
Luca continued.
“When I told executives to solve problems without bringing me details, I was not delegating responsibility.”
He looked toward the judge.
“I was delegating discomfort.”
Twenty-two months.
Forfeiture connected to criminal proceeds.
Three years supervised release.
No executive role in Moretti Holdings during supervision.
Independent monitor.
Luca accepted.
Afterward, his lawyer approached Emma.
“He asked whether he may speak to you.”
Emma looked toward the corridor.
Luca stood with counsel.
No handcuffs yet.
Voluntary surrender scheduled in three weeks.
She said yes.
They met near a window.
People passing.
Public.
Safer.
“You came.”
Emma raised an eyebrow.
“You are not allowed to sound surprised after not inviting me.”
A small smile.
“I didn’t think I had the right.”
“You didn’t.”
That removed the smile.
Then Emma softened.
“I came because I wanted to.”
Luca looked at her.
“Thank you.”
Silence.
Twenty-two months sat between them like furniture.
Emma asked:
“Are you afraid?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He almost laughed.
“Teresa says that.”
“She’s usually right.”
Then Luca said:
“I need to tell you something before I go.”
Emma’s pulse changed.
“No declarations you expect me to carry for two years.”
He stopped.
Then nodded.
“Fair.”
“What is it?”
“I care about you.”
Simple.
Emma looked away.
“That is very close to a declaration.”
“Yes.”
“Luca.”
“I am not asking you to wait.”
“Good.”
“I am not asking you to write.”
“Good.”
“I am not asking you to decide anything.”
She looked back.
“Then why say it?”
He took time.
“Because hiding it would be another way of controlling when you learn something.”
Annoyingly thoughtful.
Emma’s eyes filled.
“I care about you too.”
Luca’s face changed.
“Do not make a plan from that.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“No.”
She almost smiled.
“Promises are dangerous in your family.”
He laughed.
That helped.
Then:
“What will you do?”
Emma told him.
Caruso’s hired her as general manager.
Teresa had begun talking about reducing hours.
Emma planned to finish her hospitality-management certificate online.
Her father was walking with a cane now.
Speech improving.
Not perfect.
Bills still bills.
Life.
Luca listened.
No offer to pay tuition.
Excellent.
Then Emma said:
“What will you do?”
“Serve twenty-two months.”
“That is not a life.”
“No.”
He thought.
“I’ll try to learn one.”
They stood.
No kiss.
Not yet.
Then Luca surrendered.
Emma returned to Caruso’s.
The restaurant survived the scandal.
Actually improved.
People came because of news at first.
Teresa hated that.
Then they came back because the food was good.
Better.
Emma changed ordering systems.
Renegotiated produce contracts.
Built online catering.
Raised server wages modestly when margins allowed.
No miracle.
Work.
Her certificate took eighteen months.
She finished while sitting at a back table after closing.
Teresa brought cake.
Walter cried.
Emma pretended not to.
Luca wrote twice during the first six months.
Short letters.
No romance pressure.
One described the prison library.
One asked how Walter was.
Emma answered the second.
He is walking farther. He still cheats at cards.
Luca replied:
Then nothing for three months.
That bothered Emma.
She hated that too.
Later she learned Luca had stopped writing because supervised mail delays made him feel he was creating an obligation.
Ridiculous.
Thoughtful.
Still ridiculous.
Vanessa sent Emma one letter.
Not asking forgiveness.
It said:
I used your name as proof to myself that the vendor system was probably normal because I could not imagine anyone would be stupid enough to use real identities.
That was arrogance.
You were a person standing in my house while I treated your life as paperwork.
I am sorry.
Emma read it.
Then put it away.
No reply.
Maybe someday.
Maybe never.
Paolo Bellini eventually pled guilty to fraud and identity-theft conspiracy.
Prison.
Several years.
Restitution.
No family empire preserved.
Marco Santori received probation after cooperation and paid financial penalties.
Adrian Vale served a shorter custodial sentence.
Cases ended unevenly.
As cases do.
Teresa owned her building.
Emma owned no part of it.
Important.
She earned salary.
Then profit-sharing after two years based on management performance.
Documented.
No surrogate-daughter gift disguised as compensation.
One winter night, Teresa placed the old wooden spoon in a drawer.
Emma frowned.
“You retiring it?”
“My wrist hurts.”
“Oh.”
Not symbolism.
Arthritis.
Life.
Then Teresa said:
“When Luca comes home, are you going to see him?”
Emma kept counting invoices.
“I don’t know.”
Teresa nodded.
“Good answer.”
Luca’s release date was six weeks away.
May you like
Emma had spent nearly two years building a life that worked without him.
That was exactly why seeing him again felt dangerous.
