He Broke a Peace Treaty for the Daughter He Never Knew Existed

One month later.

The morning sun filtered brightly through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the private recovery wing at Mount Sinai Hospital.

The room was filled with fresh lilies, colorful balloons, and plush teddy bears.

Posie sat up in the high-tech hospital bed, wearing bright pink pajamas, laughing as she drew a picture of a giant castle with colored markers. Her face was no longer pale; her cheeks were full, rosy, and glowing with health.

Three weeks ago, the top pediatric surgeons in the world—hired and brought in by my personal medical team—had successfully performed a groundbreaking, minimally invasive procedure to repair her kidney condition.

She was completely cured.

"Look, Mommy!" Posie giggled, holding up her drawing. "I drew Daddy's big house! And look, there's the doggie he promised to buy me!"

Mave sat on the edge of the bed, wearing a soft cream-colored sweater, her eyes shining with pure, overwhelming happiness. She kissed Posie’s forehead gently. "It's beautiful, sweetheart."

The door opened softly, and I stepped into the room, holding a massive, six-foot-tall stuffed brown bear that was almost larger than me.

"Did somebody mention a doggie?" I chuckled, setting the giant bear down beside her bed.

Posie squealed with delight, throwing her arms around the bear's fluffy neck. "Daddy!"

I walked over, lifting Posie carefully into my arms, hugging her tightly against my chest, feeling her tiny heart beating strong and healthy against mine. Every single night of blood, stress, and war was worth this exact second.

"How is my brave little princess feeling today?" I asked, bopping her soft nose.

"The doctor said I can go home today!" Posie cheered, clapping her small hands. "To the big castle!"

"Yes, you are, sweetheart," I smiled warmly. "Wesley is outside packing your new toys into the car right now."

I set Posie back down on the bed so she could continue her drawing, then turned to Mave. I gently took her hand, leading her out onto the private balcony overlooking Central Park.

The cool morning air was fresh and sweet. Below us, Fifth Avenue stretched out in the sunlight—the very same street where, just four weeks ago, I had walked away from my own wedding to reclaim my life.

Mave leaned back against my chest, resting her head against my shoulder. I wrapped my heavy arms around her waist, holding her close, inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine in her hair.

"It feels like a dream, Garrett," Mave whispered softly, placing her hand over mine. "A month ago, I was holding job applications in the rain, wondering how I was going to afford Posie’s medicine. Now... we're safe."

"You were never a dream, Mave," I murmured against her ear. "You were always my reality. I was just lost without you."

I reached into my pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.

Mave gasped softly as I clicked it open.

Inside rested a breathtaking platinum ring set with a flawless five-carat emerald-cut diamond, flanked by two pale gray sapphires that matched the exact color of my eyes—and Posie’s.

"Three years ago, my mother took away the proposal you deserved," I said softly, stepping in front of her, dropping to one knee on the sunny balcony. "I don't offer you an alliance, Mave. I don't offer you political power. I offer you my heart, my life, and my protection for as long as I draw breath."

Tears of joy spilled over Mave’s eyelashes as she smiled down at me.