The marble floor of the east parlor felt like ice beneath Mae Harper’s knees, but the internal frost was far worse. Three years and four months. The exact mathematical proof of a night she had tried to burn out of her memory with relentless labor and sleepless exhaustion.

Three months later, the private gardens of the Long Island estate were bathed in the golden glow of a late spring sunset.

The media storm had eventually settled, replaced by strict legal injunctions and a new reality that the high-society tabloids could no longer manipulate. Celeste Vance’s lawsuits had bankrupted her within weeks, her social standing completely obliterated after her illegal data leak was exposed by Sterling legal teams.

Inside the grand parlor, the air smelled of fresh white roses and expensive champagne.

Mae stood in front of the tall mirror, adjusting the veil attached to her custom lace wedding gown. The reflection staring back at her didn't look like a terrified cleaning woman hiding from her past. She looked like a woman who had weathered the ultimate storm and emerged victorious.

The heavy oak door swung open, and Nolan walked in. He looked breathtaking in a classic tuxedo, but it was the soft, affectionate warmth in his gray eyes that made Mae’s breath catch.

He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin softly on her shoulder.

"You look extraordinary, Mae," Nolan murmured, kissing the side of her neck.

"I still feel like I'm going to wake up and find out this was all a dream," Mae whispered, turning around in his embrace to look up into his face.

"It’s no dream," Nolan smiled, taking her hands in his. "It’s our reality. And outside in the garden, a few hundred of our closest friends—and a lot of terrified board members—are waiting for us to make it official."

At that moment, the door burst open with a cheerful patter of small feet. Nora raced into the room, wearing a miniature flower-girl dress that matched Mae’s gown, holding a basket of pink rose petals.

"Mommy! Daddy! Come on! The music is starting!" Nora giggled, tugging excitedly at Nolan’s trousers.

Nolan laughed—a sound that only Mae and Nora were privileged to hear—and scooped the little girl up into his arms, hoisting her onto his shoulder. He extended his free hand to Mae.

"Shall we go face the world together, Mrs. Sterling?" Nolan asked softly.