Chapter 9
The Moretti decision took another month.
The participation rights were worth a substantial amount.
Not a fantasy fortune.
But enough.
Enough to cause arguments if we let it.
So, naturally, we argued.
Matteo wanted to sell.
Nico wanted to hold.
Gabriel wanted an independent valuation.
Luca wanted everyone to stop talking until he finished reviewing the tax implications.
Dominic wanted to know what I wanted.
“I hate when you do that,” I told him.
We were sitting around our parents’ dining table again.
“What?”
“Act like my opinion matters more because the mess touched my marriage.”
“It does matter more.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Five brothers stared at me.
I stood.
“Dad said these rights belong to all six of us.”
“Elena—”
“No. For years, this family decided that because I was the youngest, protecting me meant deciding around me.”
Dominic looked wounded.
“That wasn’t our intention.”
“I know.”
I softened.
“And I love you for wanting to protect me. But if I’m going to stop disappearing inside other people’s decisions, that includes yours.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Nico slowly raised his hand.
“What?”
“I vote Elena gets exactly one-sixth of an opinion.”
I threw a napkin at him.
He caught it.
Matteo grinned.
“Seconded.”
Luca sighed.
“We are not running a parliamentary procedure.”
Gabriel raised his hand.
“I move to remove Luca from the meeting.”
“Denied.”
“You can’t deny a motion before a vote.”
“I can if none of you understand procedure.”
For twenty minutes, we accomplished nothing.
It was glorious.
Eventually we made a decision.
We would settle the old claim with Cole Construction rather than pursue years of litigation.
But we added conditions.
Independent review of the valuation.
Transparent disclosure.
No confidentiality clause preventing us from discussing the history.
And one unusual provision.
Part of the settlement would fund a permanent engineering scholarship at the community college where our mother had taught.
The scholarship would be named for both our parents.
Thomas and Rosa Moretti.
Matteo suggested it.
Dad had built things.
Mom had taught people.
It felt right.
When Richard received the proposal, he accepted without negotiation.
—
Six months after my birthday, I moved into a small house three neighborhoods away from the Moretti home.
Not because I wanted distance.
Because I wanted a place that was mine.
The first week, my brothers invaded.
Dominic installed new locks.
Matteo rebuilt a crooked bookshelf.
Luca brought a fireproof document safe.
Gabriel reorganized my financial records until I threatened to revoke his key.
Nico appeared with a dog.
I stared at the enormous golden retriever sitting in my entryway.
“No.”
Nico looked innocent.
“What?”
“You cannot give someone a dog without asking.”
“I didn’t.”
The dog wagged his tail.
“Then why is there a dog in my house?”
“I’m fostering him.”
“Where?”
Nico pointed at my floor.
“No.”
“His name is Bruno.”
“No.”
“He likes you.”
“No.”
Bruno placed his head against my knee.
I looked down.
He looked up.
Three days later, I bought him a blue collar.
Nico never mentioned winning.
May you like
This was wise.
—
