Chapter 16 - The Proposal
Two weeks after the warehouse raid, life at the North Avenue estate settled into a rhythm that felt less like an engineered alliance and more like an actual home.
Lily’s paintings now hung proudly in the grand hallway alongside centuries-old oil portraits of European nobility—a humorous juxtaposition that Giovanni insisted on keeping because it made him smile every time he walked by. My shifts at the pediatric clinic had settled into a comfortable two days a week, keeping me grounded in the work I loved while giving me the freedom to build a life of security and abundance.
It was a Saturday evening. The estate was quiet.
I was sitting on the wide stone veranda, wrapped in a cashmere blanket, reading a medical journal while sipping a glass of red wine.
Footsteps approached from behind, and a heavy, warm jacket settled over my shoulders.
I looked up to see Giovanni standing beside me. He had shed his suit jacket, his white button-down shirt unbuttoned at the collar, looking more relaxed than I had ever seen him.
"You’re working late," he noted, glancing at the medical journal in my lap.
"Not working," I smiled, marking my page and closing the magazine. "Just reading. It’s hard to completely disconnect from pediatric trauma. When you spend years saving kids' lives, it becomes part of who you are."
"I know," Giovanni said softly, pulling out the chair beside mine and sitting down. He reached out, taking my glass of wine and setting it on the table, replacing it with his hand wrapping securely around mine.
"Is everything okay?" I asked, noticing the unusual hesitation in his amber eyes.
"Everything is better than okay," Giovanni said. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet box.
My breath caught in my throat.
"Giovanni..." I whispered.
"When we made our arrangement in the ballroom of the Bellmont Grand," Giovanni began, his voice steady, deep, and filled with a raw, emotional intensity that bypassed every defense I had ever built, "it started as a contract. A mutual defense pact. A way to survive my family and your past."
He opened the velvet box. Inside rested a ring unlike the platinum band I wore—a stunning, custom-designed diamond flanked by two smaller amber stones that caught the dim veranda light like fire.
"Every day since you walked onto that dance floor, Jessica, you’ve proven that you didn't need my protection to survive," Giovanni continued, his gaze locking onto mine with absolute devotion. "You walked into my world, stood up to my board, stared down my enemies, and brought light into a house that had been cold for ten years. You didn't just become my wife on paper. You became my life."
He slid off his chair, kneeling on one knee before me on the stone veranda.
"I don't want a contract anymore, Jessica," Giovanni whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I want a real marriage. On our terms. With real vows, a real wedding, and a lifetime of mornings watching the sun rise over this lake with you and Lily."
Tears pricked behind my eyes, hot and sudden. All the years of feeling unworthy, of being told I was a burden, of struggling alone in a drafty apartment—all of it washed away in this single, perfect moment.
I didn't hesitate.
May you like
"Yes," I choked out, a laugh bubbling up through my tears. "Yes, Giovanni. A thousand times yes."
He slid the ring onto my finger, the metal warm against my skin, before standing up and pulling me straight into his arms. His lips met mine in a kiss that tasted of absolute certainty, sealing our past, our present, and our future into one unbroken promise.
