Chapter 9 - The New Foundation
Six months later.
The summer sun shone brightly over Blackwood Estate, casting golden light across the lush green gardens and blooming white roses that now filled the courtyard.
The heavy armed guards at the main gates were gone, replaced by a discreet security team. The cameras in the private residential hallways had been permanently removed.
Inside the grand study, the heavy mahogany desk was still there, but the room was completely transformed. Light poured through open windows, bringing the scent of ocean air and fresh jasmine into the room.
I sat at the large conference table, wearing a simple white linen dress, reviewing the quarterly financial reports for the newly established Hart-Calder Foundation—a fifty-million-dollar charitable trust we had created to fund housing and education for low-income families across New York.
The door opened softly.
Roman walked in.
He looked healthy, radiant, his gray eyes clear and filled with a quiet peace I had never seen before. He wore a crisp white shirt with no tie, his sleeves rolled up, carrying a silver tray with two iced teas and a plate of fresh blueberry muffins—a nod to the small bakery in Blackwater Cove.
He set the tray on the table, leaned down, and kissed the top of my head.
"How are the numbers looking, Director Hart?" Roman asked, pulling a chair up beside mine and resting his hand over my knee.
"The foundation just cleared funding for three new community centers in Queens," I smiled, turning to face him. "And Northstar Atlantic’s legal shipping routes are operating at a twenty-percent profit increase."
"Good," Roman murmured, his fingers gently tracing circles on my knee. "Because I need my chief financial officer to clear her schedule for the next three weeks."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why is that?"
Roman reached into his pocket and pulled out two plane tickets to Italy, along with a small, exquisite velvet box.
My heart skipped a beat.
He didn't kneel. He didn't make a grand, theatrical speech. He simply opened the box, revealing a breathtaking emerald-cut diamond ring that caught the sunlight in a dazzling display of green and gold fire.
"I spent four years keeping you in a cage because I was too foolish to realize you held the key," Roman said, his voice dropping into a deep, loving baritone. "I don't want a business alliance, Evelyn. I don't want an empire. I just want you. Will you marry me?"
I looked at the ring, then looked up into the eyes of the man who had torn down a city to find me, and who had rebuilt himself just to deserve me.
"On one condition," I said softly, a mischievous smile playing on my lips.
Roman chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Name it."
"No more secrets. No more lies. And you pour my tea for the rest of our lives."
Roman smiled—a genuine, beautiful smile that transformed his face completely.
May you like
"Done," he whispered.
He slid the ring onto my finger, pulling me into his lap, and kissed me deeply as the afternoon sun warmed the room around us.
