Emilia wasn’t sure whether to let them continue speaking or to walk out immediately. A part of her was angry—angry at the trap, angry at the manipulation, angry at the sinking realization that the Moretti family hadn’t called her here for reconciliation.
Still, she exhaled quietly and sank back into her seat.
Mr. Moretti cleared his throat. “Well,” he began slowly, “we were just saying… if you could come work with Moretti Construction, we would like it.”
Emilia went still.
Dante, seated beside her, lifted his head sharply. “Why would she work for you?”
Mr. Moretti frowned at him. “Dante, this is not your place to speak.”
But Dante’s eyes didn’t budge.
Emilia looked between them, processing what she had just heard.
Mr. Moretti continued, “I mean… you did very well in college. You al
