Chapter 104 Epilogue
One month had passed in the Winters estate and the weather became warmer than usual. The chirping of birds could be heard not too far away — everywhere was finally at peace.
Amy sat in the living room, her eyes stuck to a book Owen bought to keep her company, because as he said, work called. He needed to fix everything and return them back to normal especially after Ash Winters death, Mr Winters death and the casualties faced when dealing with the late Ari Xavier.
Paris scented like peace, and everyone probably went back to their daily routine — no curfew, no being alert.
Just as Amy put down the book, the door swung open, and Owen walked in in his usual outfit, royal blue Armani, and a well dressed hair, it was in curls this time around.
Amy assessed her man, he looked nervous but only she could notice it.
“Pumpkin,” Owen said, coming to give her a hug.
She let him give her as many kisses as possible. She deserved it.
They deserved it.
“How's the baby?” He asked, caressing her stomach lightly.
Amelia blushed, her cheeks turning bright pink. She held her stomach, it was still flat, but she knew she felt something.
After that night she had spent with Owen in the pool and in the room, they hadn't used protection, although she considered it, ecstasy made her brush the idea off. It didn't seem like a bad thing — this man loved her so much and gave her everything.
“I'm just one month pregnant, Owen, stop being ridiculous,” she teased, allowing him to plant his lips on her stomach.
“I have a surprise for you,” he said, taking her hand.
Just then, Milan Xavier, that eleven year old handsome boy with the Dylan personality came running inside. He raced towards Amy and jumped at her.
“Father let me come!” He squealed like a child that he was making Amy laugh heartily.
She bent to Milan's level and patted his head, but he scowled.
“I'm big now, don't treat me like an eleven year old,” he complained, squeezing his face in pain.
Amy chuckled, he couldn't accept he was still just an eleven year old boy — learned from a lovesick brute.
Dylan Xavier.
“Run along, but don't touch any weapon,” Owen said and the young boy grinned evilly, making Owen want to regret bringing him along and pondering whether to let him run around like that.
“Was that the surprise?” Amy asked and he shook his head like a puppy.
“No. It was part of it, but not the main surprise.”
Just as Amy opened her mouth to speak, her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and for once she wasn't scared of answering the call.
“Hi Dad,” she greeted, a smile playing on her lips.
“Sweetheart, how're you doing?”
“Good, I was quite surprised Milan came for a visit. My father is growing quite soft,” she joked, throwing glances at Owen.
He looked even nervous as she spoke with her father, Dylan.
Dylan scoffed at her remark, but didn't argue about the part of growing soft.
“He needs to know his allies… wait, that nutcase is with you right?”
He asked and Owen gave a sick smile.
“Who exact…”
“That moron, Owen Winters. He's there right, I know you're there, I gave you some days off so don't disappoint me!”
Amy made eye contact with Owen, but he just kept smiling, likely wishing that the old man would just shut up.
“That's enough, Dad.”
“Call me when he's done doing his thing and tell me if he did it right!”
“What…”
Beep.
Dylan hung up which left a lot of questions hanging in the air. Amy racked her brain trying to figure out what her father meant, but he was a hard nut to crack, so she faced Owen for answers.
“Your dad has a habit of hanging up fast,” he made a poor attempt at joking, but Amy laughed anyway.
It was the truth after all.
“Yeah, I'm used to it… don't change the subject, what was all that for?” She asked and Owen didn't give an answer.
“Let's go to the gardens. We Winters have a thing for blue, black a white, so the garden might seem plain to you,” he said as if she hadn't been there before.
Owen clutched her hand, his fingers curling with hers. They walked to the garden enjoying the beautiful scenery.
The East garden in the Winters estate was plain white, but right at the middle, black baccara roses were planted bringing out its uniqueness.
“Annie would love something this beautiful,” she muttered while taking in the sights.
Butterflies fluttered around in the warm afternoon sun, and the atmosphere turned quite dreamy.
Owen turned to Amy, their eyes locked — the eyes of first snow and deep brown eyes.
“You're even prettier than this garden, you know that?” He asked, kissing her temple.
Amy shut her eyes taking in the fine scent of the garden mixed with his cologne that scented like chocolate.
Why did she feel so at peace with this man?
She wondered whether it was because she had known him all her life, or because he had been her first and only love.
This french mafia lord made her feel whole that she couldn't even respond to his praise.
Owen wrapped his hands around her slender waist, his frosty eyes stared beautifully into her soul. His dark skin glowed in the light, and his lips parted slightly.
“You know, I'm not really good with words and I'm the most unromantic person you've ever met,” he started, his hands rubbing her palms soothing her.
“What are you saying? You're good at everything, Owen Winters,” she countered wondering where all these were coming from.
“I'm bad at literature, poetry… and how to express just how much you mean to me, ma belle-”
Owen went down on one knee, the flowers brushing his leg.
He brought out a small box and opened it, a blue topaz ring that was shaped like a tear drop lay in the box eagerly waiting for a finger to wear it.
“I want you to marry me, I want us to share a life together. Marry me. No-” he looked into her eyes, his lips quivering with anticipation. He looked like a lovesick puppy.
“Will you marry me?”
Amelia stared down at him, a smile played on her lips.
What more could she ask for — than peace, love and a future she never thought she'd have?