Six months later.

The Chicago Northstar Room was filled to capacity on a brilliant Saturday evening in autumn.

The three hundred pieces of hand-cut glass suspended from the ceiling glittered like stars over the crowded floor, reflecting the warm amber lights of the grand dining room. The jazz trio was playing a smooth, up-tempo melody near the velvet curtains.

At the prestigious VIP table near the balcony, a party of four was celebrating.

Gabriel Moretti sat at the head of the table, looking broad, relaxed, and impossibly handsome in a midnight-blue tuxedo. Beside him sat Nora, breathtaking in a sleek emerald-green silk gown, her dark hair pinned up with pearl clips, her diamond wedding band shining brightly under the chandeliers.

Across from them sat Sofia, completely recovered and laughing happily, alongside Arthur Bell, who looked sharp and dignified in his first tailored tuxedo, enjoying a glass of fine vintage wine.

“I still can't believe you bought the whole restaurant, Gabriel,” Arthur said with a warm grin, gesturing around the lavish dining room.

“My daughter was working too hard here, Arthur,” Gabriel replied smoothly, reaching under the table to entwine his fingers with Nora’s. “I decided it was simpler to buy the building and put her name on the deed.”

Nora laughed softly, leaning her head against Gabriel’s shoulder. “He’s exaggerating, Dad. He bought it because the manager was overcharging the staff for their uniforms.”

“That too,” Gabriel acknowledged with a quiet, satisfied smile.

A young, nervous waitress—wearing the exact same black apron Nora had worn six months ago—stepped up to the table holding a tray with four crystal glasses of premium champagne.

Her hands were shaking slightly as she set the glasses down on the white linen tablecloth.

“Is... is everything to your satisfaction, Mrs. Moretti?” the young girl asked nervously, recognizing Nora from the cover of the city’s business magazine.

Nora looked at the young woman, seeing the exhaustion, the worry, and the quiet determination in her eyes that she knew all too well.

Nora picked up her champagne glass, smiled warmly, and pulled a clean leather envelope from her evening clutch, setting it on the waitress’s tray.

“Everything is perfect,” Nora said gently. “What’s your name?”

“Maya, ma'am.”

“Maya,” Nora said, her voice filled with a deep, sisterly warmth. “Inside that envelope is a full tuition scholarship for the University of Illinois, along with a permanent promotion to assistant manager here starting Monday. You don't have to work the late shifts anymore.”

The young waitress stared at the envelope, then at Nora, tears instantly filling her eyes. “Mrs. Moretti... I... I don't know what to say...”

“You don't have to say anything, Maya,” Gabriel said softly, his arm resting protectively around Nora’s waist. “Just make sure you always check the bottom of the glasses.”

The girl wiped a tear from her cheek, bowed her head deeply, and hurried toward the kitchen with a heart full of joy.