Chapter 9 - The Reckoning of Nolan Pryce
Back at the Pryce estate, the atmosphere was transformed.
The dark, oppressive Victorian furniture Daphne had favored was replaced with bright, modern art, warm oak bookshelves, and roaring stone fireplaces. Walter sat in the library, laughing heartily as Silas poured him an aged single-malt whiskey.
""I never thought I’d live to see this house full of life again,"" Walter said, raising his glass toward Silas. ""For twenty years, my family was poison. We thought money excused arrogance. Maren showed us what true character looks like.""
""She’s one of a kind, Walter,"" Silas agreed, his tone filled with deep, unwavering respect.
""Take care of her, Silas,"" the old man said, his eyes serious and protective. ""She spent her youth taking care of everyone else. It’s her turn to be cherished.""
""I intend to spend the rest of my life doing exactly that,"" Silas replied without hesitation.
When Maren walked into the library, wearing a soft cream sweater and dark denim, her cheeks flushed pink from the winter air, Walter smiled warmly and excused himself to take his evening walk through the conservatory.
Silas set his glass down and walked over to where Maren stood by the grand library table. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
""Exhausted?"" he murmured against her skin.
""Not even a little,"" Maren smiled, resting her hands behind his neck, tangling her fingers in his dark hair. ""For the first time in my life, I don't feel tired. I feel free.""
""Good,"" Silas said, pulling back slightly to look into her hazel eyes. ""Because there's one more piece of business we need to settle.""
Maren raised an eyebrow playfully. ""Another acquisition, Mr. Rowan?""
Silas reached into his pocket and produced a small, velvet box. He didn't drop to one knee in some theatrical display of submission; instead, he held the box between them like an equal offering a partnership forged in fire.
Inside was a platinum ring set with a brilliant, flawless emerald, surrounded by pavé diamonds that sparkled like city lights reflecting on midnight water.
""You don't need a man to protect you, Maren Kessler,"" Silas said, his voice husky, raw, and completely sincere. ""You built an empire with your own hands. But I don't want to conquer the world alone. I want you as my partner, my equal, and my wife. No contracts, no family guilt, no pretending. Just you and me.""
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Maren’s breath caught in her throat. For years, marriage had felt like a cage, an obligation, a debt she had to pay for being taken off the street. But looking at Silas—at the man who had stood by her in every battle, who had never tried to diminish her fire, who loved her strength as much as her softness—she felt tears of pure, unadulterated happiness prick her eyes.
""No pretending,"" she whispered, a radiant smile lighting up her face. ""Yes, Silas. Yes.""
