Chapter 25 - The Palazzo of the Dawn
Spring returned to Rome in a riot of wisteria, blooming jasmine, and golden sunshine.
The Palazzo della Rovere stood magnificent and fully restored, its grand renaissance facade glowing beneath the azure Italian sky. Crowds of international journalists, dignitaries, and patrons of the arts gathered in the central courtyard for the official unveiling ceremony.
Claire stood on the grand marble loggia overlooking the piazza. She wore a cascading emerald-green silk gown, her hair swept up, radiating the serene confidence of a woman who had walked through hell and emerged wearing a crown.
Matteo walked up behind her, wrapping his arms gently around her waist and resting his chin against her shoulder. They looked down together at the thousands of people who had come to celebrate her masterpiece.
“The international press is calling this the restoration of the century,” Matteo whispered against her ear, smiling warmly. “The Minister of Culture wants to commission you for the restoration of the Venetian Arsenal.”
Claire laughed softly, leaning back into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his chest. “Tell the Minister he has to wait. I have a wedding to plan.”
Matteo’s smile widened, his eyes shining with adoration. He kissed the side of her neck, his hand resting over hers—where a flawless sapphire engagement ring now sparkled beside the Vance signet.
“A wedding in Frascati,” Matteo murmured. “Beneath the olive trees, where you first found your peace.”
“Where we built our foundation,” Claire corrected gently.
Just then, Christian Vance appeared at the entrance of the loggia, carrying a discreet silver tray with an international courier envelope. His expression was respectful, but his eyes carried an edge of professional intrigue.
“Pardon the interruption, Signora,” Christian said smoothly. “A dispatch from the Swiss Federal Prosecutor’s office in Lausanne. Evan Bennett’s trial concluded this morning. He was found guilty on all counts of aggravated manslaughter, corporate embezzlement, and identity suppression. He has been sentenced to life imprisonment without possibility of parole at Thorberg.”
Claire felt a quiet, final release ripple through her spirit. The man who had shoved a cleaning list into her hands on Christmas Eve, who had stolen her mother’s breath and her own name, would spend every remaining sunrise staring at cold, unyielding gray stone.
“And Julian?” Claire asked.
“Sentenced to eight years in federal prison in Pennsylvania for wire fraud and extortion,” Vance replied. “Eleanor has settled in Bangor, Maine. She spends her days in complete isolation. The Bennett name is officially extinct.”
Claire took a deep breath of the fragrant Roman air. The past was truly dead, buried beneath the weight of justice. She turned to Matteo, her heart overflowing with a joy she had never imagined possible during those dark, frozen winters in Boston.
May you like
“Come,” Matteo said, offering his hand. “The world is waiting to meet the master of the Palazzo.”
Claire took his hand, and together they stepped out onto the grand balcony, greeted by the thunderous applause of thousands of voices echoing through the eternal city.
