Chapter 189
Sophia
The evening was quiet, a welcome change from the chaos of the past few weeks. Lily had finally fallen asleep after three bedtime stories and two glasses of water—her usual stalling tactics.
I found Blake in his study, a crystal tumbler of amber liquid in his hand as he stared out the window.
"Is that the twenty-year port?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Blake turned, his face softening when he saw me. "Thirty, actually. Want some?"
I shook my head and moved into the room, sinking into the buttery leather chair across from his desk. The study smelled of old books and expensive liquor—a combination I'd come to associate with safety and home. After everything we'd been through, it was strange how quickly this place had become my sanctuary.
"I've been thinking," I said, running my finger along the arm of the chair, my stomach knotting with anxiety. "About the restraining order against Juliana."
Blake's expression immediately hardened. "What about it?"
Shit, I knew this would be difficult. I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves.
"I know she can never be alone with Lily—I'd never ask for that," I clarified quickly, my voice more defensive than I intended. "But I was wondering if we could allow supervised visits. With me present."
Blake took a slow sip of his port, studying me over the rim of his glass. My skin prickled under his gaze. Why the hell am I advocating for that manipulative bitch? I questioned myself, almost ready to retract the suggestion.
"Why would you want that? After everything she's done?"
"It's not for her," I said, meeting his gaze with more confidence than I felt. "It's for Lily. And... it's also practical." I straightened in my chair, feeling the familiar tension creep into my shoulders. "The restraining order affects Sterling Group business dealings. It could impact my work with Alex at our consultancy. Many of our clients have ties to your family's business."
And I'll be damned if I let that woman ruin my career after everything else she's taken from me.
Blake set his glass down, thoughtful. "I hadn't considered that."
"Plus," I added softly, "Lily does ask about her. Despite everything, she's still her grandmother." God knows why that child has any affection for the cold-hearted snake.
Blake's jaw clenched, but I could see him processing my words. Finally, he nodded.
"I'm not doing this for Juliana," he said firmly. "But for you and Lily... yes. Supervised visits only, with you present the entire time." He reached for his phone. "I'll have the legal team adjust the language of the restraining order to exclude business interactions and allow for supervised visits with Lily."
"Thank you," I said, relief washing over me. "I know how hard this is for you."
He nodded, then unexpectedly changed the subject. "Speaking of plans, I think we should set a date."
"A date?" My heart skipped.
"For our wedding." His blue eyes sparkled in the lamplight. "Unless you've changed your mind about marrying me?"
My heart did a little flip, and I felt warmth spread through my chest. Holy shit, this is really happening. After everything, we're actually doing this.
"No, I haven't changed my mind."
"Good," he said, opening a drawer and pulling out a folder. "Because I've been researching options."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Of course you have. God, you're such a control freak."
"We could do a beach wedding in the Hamptons," he said, flipping through his notes. "Or there's the New York Botanical Garden. I checked and they have availability in spring. Or..." he looked up, gauging my reaction, "we could go international—Venice, perhaps? I know a place with a view of the Grand Canal that would be perfect."
I stared at him, speechless, a lump forming in my throat.
He continued, undeterred. "If you prefer something more traditional, there's the Plaza or the St. Regis ballroom. Or St. Bart's Church, though they book up far in advance..."
"You've really thought about this," I managed, my voice thick with emotion.
Blake set down his folder and reached across the desk for my hand. "I've thought about little else. I've wasted enough time, Sophia. I don't want to wait any longer to make you my wife."
My eyes burned with unexpected tears. Damn it, don't cry. After everything—the lies, the pain, the separation—here he was, planning our future with the same determination he approached everything else in his life.
"I'll think about these options," I promised, squeezing his hand, my mind already racing with possibilities I'd never allowed myself to imagine. "All of them sound wonderful."
Tuesday morning brought sunshine streaming through the windows and a knot of worry in my stomach. Mia hadn't come home last night after our argument during dinner. I'd tried calling, but she wasn't answering.
For fuck's sake, where is she? I paced the kitchen, checking my phone every two minutes. My mind raced with worst-case scenarios—Mia hurt, lost, or simply deciding she was done with me. The thought made me nauseous.
I was pouring my second cup of coffee when I heard the front door open. Relief flooded through me as Mia appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking exhausted but strangely energized.
"Where have you been?" I asked, trying not to sound like an overbearing parent while my heart hammered with leftover anxiety. "I was worried sick about you."
"I got it," she said, ignoring my question, her eyes bright with excitement.
"Got what?" And did you even think about calling me, you little shit? I bit back the words, reminding myself she wasn't a child.
"The job! At Lumière." She practically bounced on her toes. "They offered me a full-time apprenticeship in the kitchen. Not just prep work—actual line cooking."
"Oh my God, Mia!" All my anger evaporated instantly. I set down my coffee and hugged her, my chest swelling with pride. "That's incredible! A Michelin-starred kitchen?"
She nodded, her smile wider than I'd seen since our mother died. "The executive chef said my sauce work was exceptional."
"I'm so proud of you," I said, meaning it completely, blinking back tears. She's going to be okay. She's going to have the life Mom always wanted for her. "We should celebrate."
Mia hesitated, then blurted out, "I'm moving out."
"What?" The word came out sharper than I intended, my chest tightening with sudden panic. No, no, no. I just found you again.
"I found an apartment closer to the restaurant," she explained. "The commute from here is almost an hour each way, and with kitchen hours..."
"But you just got here," I protested, unable to hide the hurt in my voice. "And you're only eighteen, Mia."
"I won't be alone," she added. "Susan's going to be my roommate."
Susan—Noah Sterling's youngest daughter with Carmen. The half-sisters had bonded quickly, which was both heartwarming and slightly disconcerting.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked, unable to mask my concern. You barely know these people. What if they're just using you? "You barely know her."
Mia's expression hardened. "I'm not asking for your permission, Sophia. I'm just letting you know."
The words stung like a slap, but I recognized the independence in them—the same stubbornness that had helped me survive when I was her age. Well, fuck me for caring.
"When will you move?" I asked, softening my tone, fighting to hide how much this hurt.
"This weekend, after we do Mom's ashes." She fidgeted with her sleeve. "Susan found a place . It's small, but the location is perfect."
I nodded, feeling a complicated mix of pride and loss. My little sister, striking out on her own, building her life piece by piece. I've only just found her, and already I'm losing her again.
"I'll still be close," Mia said, her voice gentler now, as if sensing my inner turmoil. "And I'll come over for dinner sometimes. If you guys aren't too annoying."
I laughed, blinking back tears. "We'll try to be tolerable."
"No promises about Lily though," she added with a smile. "That kid can talk my ear off."
"That she can," I agreed, feeling the tension between us ease. Maybe this isn't goodbye. Maybe it's just... change.
Mia grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and headed toward her room. "I'm going to shower and sleep for about twelve hours. Don't wake me unless the building's on fire."
I watched her go, marveling at how much had changed in such a short time. We were all moving forward—Blake with his new son, me with my almost-husband, and now Mia with her career and independence.
It wasn't perfect, and it certainly wasn't what I'd planned. Nothing in my life has ever gone according to plan, why start now? But somehow, in the midst of all the pain and chaos, we were building something that looked remarkably like a future.