Chapter 6 - THE KING'S TABLE
One year later.
Spring had arrived in Pennsylvania. The snow on the Marquetti grounds had melted, giving way to rolling lawns of deep green grass, blooming white apple blossoms, and bright yellow tulips.
The grand dining hall of the Marquetti mansion was filled with warm, afternoon sunlight.
The long walnut table was no longer set for a single occupant. It was covered in fine white linen, decorated with fresh spring flowers, crystal glasses, and plates filled with a magnificent feast prepared by Enes Colomo.
Sitting at the head of the table was Dante Marquetti.
He wore a tailored dark suit, his shirt collar open, looking healthier, stronger, and happier than he ever had in his life. On his left finger, beside his old wedding ring, sat a simple, polished platinum band—his new wedding ring.
Beside him sat Hannah Marquetti, looking stunning in a light yellow spring dress, her auburn hair falling in soft curls over her shoulders. She was smiling warmly, chatting with Wallace, who was standing nearby, no longer looking like a guarded butler, but like a happy grandfather enjoying a family celebration.
And sitting in the second chair right next to Dante was four-year-old Rosie.
She wore a bright pink party dress, her blonde curls held back with a small pearl headband. On the back of her chair hung her magical dinosaur backpack.
On the small side table nearby, next to the silver-framed photograph of Aurora—which remained in its honored place, a peaceful memory of a past beloved—sat a brand-new photograph.
It showed Dante, Hannah, and Rosie standing together on the mansion's sunlit balcony, laughing under the blue sky.
"Daddy!" Rosie called out, tapping Dante's arm with her small fork. "Look! I ate all my potatoes!"
Dante turned to his daughter, his gray eyes shining with endless pride and devotion. He leaned down, inspecting her plate with absolute seriousness.
"Extremely impressive work, princess," Dante smiled, reaching out to gently pinch her rosy cheek. "You've earned two scoops of strawberry ice cream."
"Yay!" Rosie cheered, clapping her small hands.
Hannah reached across the short distance between their chairs, placing her hand gently over Dante's. He turned his palm upward, entwining his long, tattooed fingers with hers, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.
Sal walked into the dining hall, carrying a small leather folder. He stopped near the table, offering a respectful, warm smile to the family.
"Boss," Sal said smoothly. "The new children's wing at the hospital—the Aurora Marquetti Foundation wing—is completed. They're ready for your opening speech tomorrow."
"Thank you, Sal," Dante nodded warmly. "Tell them we'll be there at ten."
Sal nodded, gave Rosie a subtle wink, and stepped back out into the sunlit corridor.
Dante looked around his table—at his beautiful wife, his happy daughter, his loyal friends, and the bright, peaceful light filling the room that had once been his tomb.
He looked down at Rosie, who was busy feeding a small piece of bread to her stuffed rabbit.
"Rosie," Dante said softly.
The little girl looked up, her soft brown eyes bright and curious. "Yes, Daddy?"
"Do you remember the first night you walked into this room?" Dante asked gently, a warm smile touching his lips. "Do you remember what you asked me?"
Rosie tilted her head, thinking hard for a second, then her face lit up with a bright, innocent grin.
"I asked why you were eating alone," Rosie said simply.
Dante reached out, pulling both Hannah and Rosie close to his side, his heart overflowing with a deep, unbreakable peace that no shadow could ever touch again.
"And what's the answer now, sweetie?" Hannah asked softly, resting her head against Dante's shoulder.
May you like
Rosie looked at the long, beautiful table, then at her mother, and finally up at her father.
"The answer," Rosie declared happily, swinging her legs against her chair, "is that Kings don't eat alone when they have a family."
