Chapter 8 - The True Proposal
Six months after the fateful night at the Astor Grand Hotel, the six-month engagement contract officially expired.
It was a crisp, clear spring evening in Manhattan.
Ava stood on the private roof terrace of The Sovereign, wearing a simple, elegant emerald-green silk dress. The sun was setting over the Hudson River, painting the sky in breathtaking strokes of gold, crimson, and deep violet.
Behind her, the glass doors opened, and Julian walked out onto the terrace. He had discarded his suit jacket, wearing a crisp white dress shirt with the top button undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
He walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked softly, kissing her neck.
"I was thinking about the contract," Ava smiled, leaning back against his broad chest. "Technically, as of five o'clock today, I am no longer your contractual fiancée."
Julian chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated against her back. "Is that so? Does that mean I have to rehire you as an assistant event coordinator?"
"The Knox Foundation has a board meeting tomorrow, Mr. Vance," Ava teased, turning around in his arms to face him. "I don't think I have time to fix your flower arrangements."
Julian looked down at her face, illuminated by the golden rays of the setting sun. His expression softened into a look of profound, sacred love.
He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, navy velvet box.
Ava’s heart skipped a beat.
"Six months ago," Julian said softly, holding the box between them, "I put a ten-carat diamond on your finger as part of a business transaction to protect you from cruel people. It was a contract built on strategy, revenge, and power."
He opened the velvet box.
Inside rested a simple, breathtaking platinum ring holding a single, flawless pear-cut black diamond—the exact twin to the necklace she had worn on her first night as his public partner.
Julian stepped back, sinking down onto one knee on the hardwood terrace floor.
The man who ruled Wall Street, the man who brought billionaires to their knees with a single phone call, looked up at her with complete, vulnerable humility.
"I don't want a contract, Ava," Julian said, his gray eyes shining with unshed tears. "I don't want strategic cohabitation. I want your laughter in my mornings. I want your passion in my foundation. I want to build a family with you. Ava Knox, will you do me the absolute honor of becoming my real wife?"
Ava covered her mouth with both hands, tears of overwhelming joy spilling past her eyelashes.
She didn't hesitate for a single second.
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"Yes!" Ava cried, stepping forward. "Yes, Julian! A thousand times yes!"
Julian smiled brightly, sliding the black diamond ring onto her left ring finger—a perfect fit. He stood up, pulling her into his arms, and spun her around on the sunset terrace as the city below them erupted into millions of glittering evening lights.
