Chapter 53: Something Worth Fighting For

Marcus's POV

I don’t leave right away. The porch light clicks off a few seconds after Anna closes the door, plunging the house into darkness, but I stay exactly where I am—hands in my pockets, head tilted up toward the quiet night sky—like if I move too fast, I might lose the feeling still wrapped around my chest.

Love.

Not the kind people throw around casually. Not the kind my father talks about when it comes with conditions and expectations.

The real kind. The kind that steadies you instead of weighing you down. I exhale slowly and finally turn back toward the car, my footsteps sounding louder than usual on the pavement. When I slide into the driver’s seat, I rest my forehead against the steering wheel for a second and let myself feel it all.

I meant every word I said to her. And that scares me almost as much as it frees me. The drive home is short, but my mind is anything but quiet. Anna’s face keeps replaying behind my eyes—her tears, her smile, the way she looked at me like I was something precious instead of a project to be perfected.

When I pull into the driveway, the house is dark except for the faint glow coming from my father’s study. Of course he’s still awake. Of course. I sit in the car for a moment longer, staring at the front door, bracing myself. The gala ended hours ago, but I know better than to think the night is over.

Eventually, I get out.

The door creaks softly when I step inside. I shrug out of my jacket and toss it over the back of a chair, loosening my tie as I move through the quiet house. I make it halfway up the stairs when I hear his voice.

“Marcus.”

I stop. Slowly, I turn.

My father stands at the threshold of his study, arms crossed, posture rigid. He’s already changed out of his tux, trading it for a pressed button-down and slacks, but the sharpness in his gaze hasn’t softened.

“Sit,” he says. Not a request.

I glance at the stairs once, then walk into the study and take the chair across from his desk. The room smells faintly of whiskey and leather, the same way it always has. The walls are lined with awards, framed photos, reminders of everything he’s built. And everything he expects.

“You embarrassed me tonight,” he says without preamble.

I meet his gaze evenly. “I stood beside my girlfriend.”

He scoffs. “You blindsided me. You let rumors spread, let your presence imply things that were never agreed upon.”

“You mean Bella,” I reply calmly. “I never agreed to that either.”

His jaw tightens. “This merger—”

“Is between you and Ramsey,” I cut in. My voice is steady, but there’s fire underneath it now. “Not me.”

He leans forward, palms braced on the desk. “Everything I’ve done has been for you. For your future.”

I shake my head. “No. You did it for the future you want for me.” Silence stretches between us.

“She’s a distraction,” he says finally. “Anna pulls you away from your potential. From your family.”

I think of Anna standing up to Bella tonight. Of her locked in that powder room, still finding a way out on her own. Of the way she looked at me like I was enough even when the world demanded more.

“She makes me stronger,” I say quietly. “And if you can’t see that, then you don’t really know me.”

His eyes flash. “You’re choosing her over us?”

I don’t hesitate. “I’m choosing myself,” I answer. “And she’s part of that.”

He leans back, studying me like I’m a stranger. Maybe I am. Or maybe this is the first time I’ve ever let him see me clearly.

“You’re making a mistake,” he says.

“Maybe,” I admit. “But it’s mine to make.”

I stand before he can respond.

“I love her,” I add. “And I won’t apologize for that.” I leave the study without another word, my heart pounding but my steps steady. Upstairs, my room feels different—less like a cage, more like a place to rest.

I sit on the edge of the bed and pull out my phone. A message from Anna waits there.

Home safe. Still smiling like an idiot.

I grin despite myself and type back.

Same. I meant everything I said.

The reply comes almost instantly.

So did I.

I lie back and stare at the ceiling, the weight of the day finally settling—but it doesn’t crush me. For the first time in a long while, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. There will be fallout. I know that. My father won’t let this go. Bella won’t either. The future won’t suddenly become easy just because we chose each other. Because love—real love—doesn’t weaken you. It gives you something worth fighting for.