Chapter 6 - The Rose at the DrakeWith Victoria removed and the corporate press dismissed by Lucas Vance, the grand ballroom of The Drake was cleared of outside guests, leaving only Ethan, me, Noah, Sophie, and Ethan's most trusted lieutenants.
Ethan sat on a velvet sofa near the stone fireplace, wearing a plain linen shirt, his expensive jacket thrown aside.
For two hours, he didn't discuss shipping terminals, crime cartels, or legal settlements.
He sat on the rug before the fireplace with ten-year-old Sophie, watching with absolute, reverent fascination as she showed him her drawings, explaining her favorite school subjects and her love for equestrian riding.
Beside them sat Noah, quietly reviewing Sullivan Holdings’ secondary logistics reports on his tablet, occasionally pointing out operational inefficiencies that made Ethan let out breathless, disbelieving laughs of pure pride.
I sat in an armchair near the fire, holding a mug of hot tea, watching my ex-husband interact with our children.
The cold, ruthless crime boss who made Chicago tremble was gone. In his place sat a man who looked at his children as if they were the only precious, miraculous things in the entire universe.
At midnight, after Noah and Sophie had fallen asleep on the large velvet sofas wrapped in warm cashmere blankets, Ethan stood up slowly.
He walked across the Persian rug, stopping two feet from my chair.
He didn't invade my space. He stood before me with his hands folded behind his back, his gray eyes shining with an intense, unshakeable devotion that held zero pride.
"They are magnificent, Claire," Ethan whispered softly, his baritone thick with deep emotion. "You raised two incredible, brave human beings while living through the hell I built for you."
"They are my world, Ethan," I answered softly, looking into his eyes. "And I came here tonight to make sure you never lied to the world about them again."
Ethan reached into his vest pocket, pulling out a small velvet box, opening it flat before me.
May you like
Inside sat a platinum ring set with a flawless seven-carat sapphire—the exact shade of the pendant I wore around my neck.
"I don't expect you to forgive me tonight, Claire," Ethan promised, his storm-gray eyes holding mine with an unbroken, eternal covenant. "I don't expect you to move back to Chicago tomorrow. But starting tonight... I am spending every dollar I own, every breath I have, and every day of my life earning the right to be your husband and their father again."
