Chapter 10 - REBUILT FROM ASHES
Six months later, the sun shone brightly over the fully restored Graham estate.
The grand front foyer was entirely rebuilt, its marble floors polished to a mirror shine, its massive crystal chandelier hanging once again from the vaulted ceiling. But the dark, suffocating gloom that had once hung over the mansion was completely gone.
Large windows allowed warm sunlight to flood every hallway. Fresh flowers sat in vases along the corridors, and the heavy smell of cordite and old dust had been replaced by the scent of fresh linen and blooming gardens.
In the east wing office, Declan sat behind his restored mahogany desk.
He wore a tailored dark blue suit, his dark hair neatly trimmed, his face clean-shaven and full of life. Though he remained in his wheelchair, the bitter, hollow look that had haunted his eyes for three years was entirely gone.
The door clicked open, and Narin walked into the room, holding a leather clipboard and a steaming cup of tea.
She wore an elegant beige dress, her dark hair pinned back neatly, looking less like a maid and more like the formidable, respected woman who ran the entire estate with an iron fist and a compassionate heart.
“The new security detail has arrived at the front gates,” Narin announced, setting the tea down on his desk. “And the contractor finished the ramp installation in the west garden.”
Declan looked up from his papers, a warm, affectionate smile spreading across his face.
“Come here,” he said softly.
Narin stepped around the desk. Declan reached out, grabbing her hand and pulling her gently down onto his lap.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, resting her cheek against his temple as he held her tightly against his chest.
“You know,” Declan murmured, resting his hand against her back, “Mrs. Gibson told me yesterday that you’re far too strict with the new staff.”
“Mrs. Gibson is welcome to manage the budget herself if she thinks she can do better,” Narin replied smoothly.
Declan let out a soft chuckle, kissing the side of her neck. “I wouldn't dare replace you.”
He reached into his jacket pocket, withdrawing a small, velvet-lined box, and set it on the desk before her.
Narin paused, looking down at the box, her heart skipping a beat.
“What is this?” she asked softly.
“It’s not a paycheck,” Declan said, his voice dropping to a low, deeply sincere register as he opened the box to reveal a brilliant diamond ring resting on dark velvet.
He looked up into her dark, beautiful eyes, his expression completely raw and exposed.
“You stayed when everyone else fled,” he whispered, holding her hand gently in his. “You fought for me when I didn't even want to fight for myself. You taught me that my life wasn't over just because I was sitting in this chair.”
He took the ring from the box, holding it near her finger.
“I don't want a maid, Narin. I don't want a manager. I want a partner. I want you by my side for the rest of my life.”
Tears welled up in Narin’s eyes—not tears of exhaustion or debt, but tears of pure, unadulterated joy.
She smiled down at the most feared man in the city, the man who had thrown a whiskey glass at her face on her very first day, and who now held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
“You’re still very difficult to work with, Declan Graham,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
“I know,” he smiled softly. “Are you going to marry me anyway?”
Narin leaned down, pressing her lips against his in a sweet, deep, lingering kiss that answered his question far better than words ever could.
May you like
“Yes,” she murmured against his lips. “I’m staying.”
And this time, nothing in the world could ever make her leave.
