Chapter 9 - THE HEARTS THAT BELONG
Six weeks later, the morning sun poured through the wide, unobstructed windows of the DeLuca mansion’s sitting room. The heavy, dark draperies were completely gone, replaced by soft linen curtains that billowed in the warm spring breeze off the lake.
The living room was full of life, laughter, and the rich scent of Mara’s homemade cinnamon rolls.
In a comfortable armchair angled toward the bright garden, Helena DeLuca sat with a warm smile on her face, wrapped in a bright yellow cashmere blanket. Beside her sat Clara—twenty-eight years old, beautiful, vibrant, with her mother’s dark eyes and Roman’s resolute chin. Clara was holding an album of childhood sketches, her laughter ringing out across the room as Leo dramatically recounted stories of how terrible Roman was at soccer when he was nine.
Leo was sober, wearing a crisp white shirt with rolled-up sleeves, his eyes bright and full of a purpose he had never possessed before. He had taken over DeLuca Freight’s community outreach foundation, naming the new pediatric arts program in honor of their mother and sister.
In the kitchen, Mara was wiping down the island counter when a pair of strong, familiar arms wrapped around her waist from behind.
Roman pulled her back against his broad chest, burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of vanilla and lavender that was purely hers.
“You’re working too hard,” Roman murmured against her skin, his hands splaying over her hips, holding her curves with complete, unapologetic adoration.
“I’m supervising,” Mara teased, turning in his embrace to wrap her arms around his neck. “Someone has to make sure your family doesn't put the coffee mugs in the pantry again.”
Roman smiled—a full, brilliant, breathtaking smile that transformed his rugged face completely. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a small, velvet box.
Mara’s breath caught in her throat. “Roman…”
“When you threatened me with that iron poker six weeks ago,” Roman said softly, his voice thick with deep, unshakeable emotion, “I thought you were the most terrifying woman I had ever met. Then you rearranged my rooms, you showed me how dark this house was, and you gave me back my mother, my brother, and my sister.”
He opened the box. Inside sat a magnificent vintage ring with a brilliant emerald flanked by two diamonds—a ring meant to be worn, celebrated, and cherished.
“You brought warmth into a house that only knew secrets,” Roman whispered, his dark eyes searching hers with complete vulnerability. “I don't want a house-sitter, Mara. I want a partner. A wife. The woman who isn't afraid to tell me no, and the only woman I ever want to come home to.”
Tears of pure happiness welled in Mara’s eyes. She didn't hesitate for a single second. She threw her arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to hers in a deep, passionate kiss that sealed every broken promise this mansion had ever held.
“Yes,” she whispered against his mouth. “On one condition.”
Roman chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. “Name it.”
“I’m keeping the lemon pajamas.”
May you like
Roman laughed, pulling her tight against his heart. “Darling, you can wear whatever you want. As long as you stay right here.”
From the sitting room, Clara called out for more cinnamon rolls, Leo cheered, and Helena’s soft, joyful laughter drifted through the sunlit halls. The DeLuca mansion was no longer a fortress of cold stone and forgotten pain; it was finally, truly, a home.
