Chapter 9 - The Mafia Boss Who Never Knelt for Anyone Finally Asked Me to Marry Him
I stared at the test.
Then again.
Then again.
Ronin was in the kitchen making coffee.
I walked toward him.
"Ronin."
He turned.
"What's wrong?"
I handed him the test.
He stared at it.
His face went completely blank.
I laughed nervously.
"Say something."
He looked at me.
"We're having a baby."
"Yes."
"Our baby."
"Yes."
He sat down.
I had never seen him stunned before.
"I don't know what to do."
I smiled.
"Neither do I."
He stood and pulled me into his arms.
For a man who had once feared attachment, he held me like he was afraid I'd disappear.
That night, we told my mother.
She cried.
My father laughed.
Gideon nearly dropped his coffee.
Marcus, still recovering, demanded the baby be named after him.
We refused.
Months passed.
Ronin attended every doctor's appointment.
He read every book he could find.
He baby-proofed an entire house that didn't need baby-proofing.
He even tried assembling a crib.
He failed spectacularly.
I found him staring at the instructions.
"You negotiated million-dollar deals."
"The crib has forty-two pieces."
"Forty-three."
He stared at me.
"You're enjoying this."
"A little."
He smiled.
"Good."
One evening, we returned to the same rooftop where he'd first told me I didn't owe him anything.
The city glittered below.
He held my hand.
"I have something to ask you."
"I know."
"You do?"
"You've been suspiciously nervous for three days."
He laughed.
Then he knelt.
The man who had made judges tremble.
The man who had never bowed to anyone.
Knelt.
Not because tradition required it.
Not because business demanded it.
Because he wanted to.
"Laurel Mercer, I can't promise your life will always be easy."
I smiled.
"That's okay."
"I can't promise I will never be afraid."
"I know."
"But I can promise you will never have to face that fear alone."
He opened the ring box.
"Will you marry me?"
I touched his face.
"Yes."
He slipped the ring onto my finger.
I cried.
Then laughed.
Then hugged him so hard he nearly fell.
He whispered against my hair:
"You chose me."
"I did."
"Why?"
I thought about the conference room.
The bruise.
The fear.
The first phone call.
The first night he protected my choice instead of making one for me.
"Because you never once made me feel owned."
His eyes softened.
"That's all I wanted."
The wedding was small.
Family only.
My father gave me away.
My mother cried before I even reached the aisle.
Gideon stood beside Ronin.
Marcus was there in a wheelchair, still complaining.
"You could've made the aisle wider."
"You complained about everything."
"I'm still useful."
Everyone laughed.
The ceremony took place in a garden behind the house.
No cameras.
No press.
No business associates.
No politicians.
Just people who had survived enough to understand what peace meant.
When I reached Ronin, he took my hand.
The officiant smiled.
"You may kiss."
Ronin looked at me.
"May I?"
I laughed.
"Now you ask?"
"Always."
He kissed me.
Everyone applauded.
Later, we danced.
My father danced with my mother.
Gideon danced with Marcus's nurse.
The children of our friends ran through the garden.
It was perfect.
Not because everything was forgotten.
But because everything had been faced.
At midnight, Ronin and I sat alone.
He looked at my wedding ring.
"You know something?"
"What?"
"You were the only person in that conference room who wasn't afraid of me."
I laughed.
"I was terrified."
He smiled.
"You're a terrible liar."
"So are you."
He kissed my forehead.
Then he looked at my stomach.
"How is the little one?"
"Kicking."
"Already rebellious."
"Definitely yours."
He laughed.
The next morning, we began planning the nursery.
Life had finally become ordinary.
And ordinary was the greatest luxury either of us had ever known.
But one last package arrived.
A small envelope.
No return address.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Daniel Calder.
Richard Mercer.
My mother.
And a baby.
On the back:
The first child was only the beginning.
I stared at the photograph.
Ronin came behind me.
"What is it?"
I turned it over.
His face changed.
"That's impossible."
"Who is the baby?"
He looked at me.
"Our families never told us."
Then he turned the photograph over again.
May you like
There was another line beneath the first.
The second heir is alive.
