Chapter 5 - The Confession
The private conservatory overlooking the Charles River was illuminated by thousands of fairy lights strung through the glass ceiling, casting a warm, romantic glow over the imported orchids and marble pathways. At 7:45 PM, the room was dead silent except for the gentle trickling of the indoor fountain.
Sloane Barrett stood near the edge of the glass railing, dressed in an emerald designer gown that cost more than a small car, nursing a glass of champagne. Her phone was clutched in her hand, her impeccably manicured nails tapping an impatient rhythm against the screen.
The heavy double doors at the entrance of the conservatory swung open with a sharp click.
Sloane turned around with a radiant, rehearsed smile, expecting to see me walking down the path with a velvet box in hand. Instead, her smile froze instantly.
I wasn't alone.
Walking beside me was Elena—stunning in her emerald blouse, looking like she owned the room—and trailing closely behind us were four identical, sharp-eyed six-year-old boys in matching navy sweaters, each holding a miniature cup of sparkling cider.
Sloane’s eyes darted from Elena to the four mini-mes, and finally landed on me. Her jaw tightened, the aristocratic poise cracking at the edges.
"Dominic," Sloane said, her voice dropping into a chilly, dangerous tone. "What is the meaning of this? Who are these... children? And why is that woman holding your arm?"
"Sloane," I said smoothly, stepping forward into the center of the conservatory, keeping Elena’s hand firmly locked in mine. The heavy gold Moretti signet ring gleamed under the fairy lights on her finger. "Let's cut straight to the point. We both know this engagement was arranged by the board to merge our portfolios. It was a smart business move."
"A business move that you agreed to," Sloane snapped, stepping forward, her face flushing with humiliated fury. "And now you bring a woman and a litter of stray children into my family's conservatory? Have you lost your mind, Dominic? Your uncles will destroy you for this!"
"My uncles can try," I replied calmly, the absolute authority of the Moretti patriarch radiating from every word. "My family empire was built on strength, Sloane. But tonight, I'm choosing something much stronger than a corporate merger. I'm choosing my family."
Before Sloane could unleash the full fury of the Barrett dynasty, the oldest of the quadruplets stepped forward from behind Elena's legs, crossed his arms, tilted his head at that exact fifteen-degree angle, and looked Sloane dead in the eye.
"My dad said you're fired," the boy announced clearly across the quiet conservatory.
A heavy, stunned silence hung in the air. Even Elena bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
Sloane looked down at the boy, then up at me, realizing with absolute horror that she had just been dumped by a six-year-old and a mob boss in the span of thirty seconds.
"You'll regret this, Dominic," Sloane hissed, her voice shaking with rage as she slammed her champagne glass down onto a nearby table, spun on her heel, and stormed out of the conservatory, the heavy double doors slamming shut behind her.
As the echoes faded away, the tension in the room evaporated, replaced by a quiet, overwhelming peace.
I looked down at Elena, my heart swelling with a warmth I hadn't felt in six years.
"Well," I murmured, pulling her closer against my chest. "That went better than expected."
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Elena rolled her eyes, a genuine, beautiful smile breaking across her face. "You are an absolute lunatic, Dominic Moretti."
"Maybe," I whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her dark hair. "But I'm your lunatic."
