Chapter 8 - THE PROPOSAL IN THE GARDEN
Three months later.
Autumn had painted the Duca estate in brilliant shades of gold, orange, and crimson. The crisp mountain air carried the scent of woodsmoke and falling leaves.
In the rear garden, near the marble fountain, a grand white pavilion had been set up.
Tonight was a special night. It was Lucas’s seventh birthday—the first birthday he was celebrating in full, vibrant health.
The garden was filled with laughter. Lucas was running around with a remote-controlled toy helicopter Lorenzo had bought him, while Emma pursued him, trying to catch the hovering toy with a plastic butterfly net.
Dr. Mara Quinn sat near the fountain, sipping wine with Daniel, both of them enjoying the rare peace.
Clara stood near the edge of the rose garden, wearing a stunning emerald-green silk dress that complemented her dark hair and warm skin. She watched the children with a soft, content smile.
Lorenzo walked out from the house, wearing a tailored charcoal suit. He walked straight toward Clara, holding two glasses of sparkling champagne.
He handed one glass to her.
“A penny for your thoughts, Clara?” Lorenzo asked softly, standing beside her as they watched Lucas leap into the air to dodge the toy helicopter.
Clara took a sip of the champagne, looking at him with deep affection. “I was just thinking about a year ago. A year ago, I was sitting in a damp basement apartment, wondering if I could afford Emma’s winter coat. Now... now I’m standing in paradise.”
Lorenzo looked down at her. The harsh lines on his face—carved by years of violence, grief, and fear—had softened into expressions of strength and serenity.
“You brought the paradise here, Clara,” Lorenzo said softly.
Clara turned to look at him, her heart doing a quick, fluttery dance. “Lorenzo?”
Lorenzo reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, navy-blue velvet box.
Clara’s breath hitched in her throat.
Lorenzo didn't drop to one knee in the mud, but he took her soft hand in his large, warm palm, opening the box.
Inside sat an exquisite, vintage platinum ring set with a brilliant five-carat emerald surrounded by flawless white diamonds.
“When my wife died four years ago, I thought my heart was buried in the ground with her,” Lorenzo said, his voice thick with raw, honest emotion. “I built walls around myself and this estate. I thought I was only meant to survive, to protect Lucas, and to fight in the dark.”
He looked deep into Clara’s dark eyes.
“But then a little three-year-old girl walked into my study at midnight with a doll under her arm,” Lorenzo continued. “And her mother walked into my kitchen and showed me what real courage looks like.”
Tears overflowed from Clara’s eyes, sparkling like diamonds in the evening light.
“Clara Carter,” Lorenzo whispered gently. “Will you marry me? Will you make this family whole?”
Before Clara could answer, a loud gasp came from behind the rosebushes.
Lucas and Emma were peeking through the green leaves, their eyes wide.
“Say yes, Mommy!” Emma shouted, running out from behind the bushes and grabbing Clara’s dress. “Say yes so Brother Lucas can officially be my brother!”
Lucas ran up beside Lorenzo, looking up at Clara with hopeful eyes. “Please, Clara? We want you to stay forever.”
Clara laughed through her tears, wiping her cheeks. She looked at the two beautiful children, then up at the magnificent man holding her hand.
May you like
“Yes,” Clara whispered, her voice filled with pure joy. “Yes, Lorenzo! A thousand times yes!”
Lorenzo slipped the emerald ring onto her finger, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her deeply, while the children cheered and Daniel raised his wine glass in a silent toast from across the garden.
