Chapter 161 Grand Finale
Chapter 161 Grand Finale
They weren't armed, with VIP badges pinned to their chests.
Mason held a glass of champagne, his gaze fixed tightly on the end of the red carpet.
When he learned that Isabelle was Nyx reborn, he'd gone crazy wanting to challenge Sean to a duel.
But seeing Sean willing to hand over his life and his fortune of hundreds of billions without hesitation for Isabelle, Mason was completely convinced.
"Boss looks really beautiful in a wedding dress." Mason's eyes reddened slightly as he said quietly.
Caius adjusted his cuffs, watching that aloof and proud figure on the red carpet, a deep sense of relief and emotion welling up inside him.
The old Nyx had lived in gunfire and endless schemes, sleeping with one eye open. But today, she had finally walked out of the bloodshed and found true happiness of her own.
To the solemn wedding march, Isabelle wore a hand-sewn diamond-studded wedding gown by a haute couture master, walking slowly down the red carpet. She held no one's arm, her back straight, her eyes clear and determined.
At the end of the red carpet, Sean stood waiting in a black velvet suit.
When Isabelle reached him, Sean didn't wait for the complicated ceremony procedures.
He stepped forward, wrapped one arm around her slender waist, and kissed her hard.
Applause thundered, fireworks bloomed above the castle.
Isabelle obediently tilted her head back slightly, hugging his broad shoulders. Amid cheers and blessings, the two kissed happily, binding their lives together completely.
That night, in the bridal suite at the top of the castle.
The heavy soundproof wooden door closed, shutting out all the noise outside.
Before Isabelle could change out of her elaborate gown, Sean swept her up and pressed her onto the soft, wide wedding bed.
Sean loosened his tie, his gold-rimmed glasses already tossed onto the mahogany carpet.
His deep black eyes surged with heat and madness suppressed for seven years, burning kisses falling on her forehead, the tip of her nose, and finally sealing her lips heavily.
"Isabelle, you're finally mine." Sean's voice was hoarse, carrying intense possessiveness.
Isabelle curved her lips, wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers threading through his hair, actively responding.
The night was long, the temperature in the bridal suite kept rising.
From the bed to the cashmere rug by the floor-to-ceiling windows, then to the white marble countertop in the bathroom.
Sean was like a tireless predator, turning his long-held desire into action.
Isabelle's excellent stamina from years of training finally met its match.
They went at it all night until dawn broke outside the window and the storm gradually subsided.
The next day near noon, sunlight streamed through gaps in the floor-to-ceiling windows into the bedroom.
Isabelle woke up sore.
She rubbed her heavy brow, about to sit up when the bedroom door gently opened.
Sean wore a loose dark gray casual shirt with casual pants below, and surprisingly, a black apron tied around his waist.
He held an elegant silver tray, striding in on long legs.
Sean looked refreshed, his eyes carrying satisfied warmth, completely different from last night's wild beast.
"Awake?" Sean sat down by the bed, casually placing the tray on the nightstand.
On the tray were freshly made eggs Benedict, crispy fried bacon, fresh avocado slices, and a cup of black coffee at just the right temperature.
Sean reached out and pulled Isabelle, blanket and all, into his arms, letting her lean comfortably against his chest. He picked up a knife and fork, cut a small piece of bacon with hollandaise sauce, and brought it to Isabelle's lips.
"Open up." Sean's voice was low and gentle.
Isabelle didn't move her hands, obediently opening her mouth to eat.
Then he picked up the coffee and helped her drink two sips.
Watching this Sean who used to make decisive moves on Wall Street, whose single word could shake North American business circles, now skillfully cooking and feeding her, his eyes holding only her, Isabelle raised an eyebrow.
"Mr. Morgan, not bad skills." Isabelle leaned in his arms, a smile appearing in her cool eyes as she teased, "What an excellent house husband."
Hearing this title, Sean showed no annoyance whatsoever, but laughed softly instead.
He put down the cup, his fingertips gently brushing the corner of Isabelle's rosy lips, his gaze deep and focused. "As long as you like it, I'm willing to be your house husband for life."
Not anyone's Sean, just Isabelle's house husband.
Isabelle looked at the sincerity and bottomless indulgence in his eyes, her heart stirring. She leaned forward slightly, grabbed his shirt collar, and initiated a clear, loud kiss on his lips.
"Your reward." Isabelle pulled back half a step, her tone bossy.
Sean's eyes flashed darkly, taking the chance to hold the back of her head and deepen the kiss until breakfast almost got cold before letting go.
After the wedding, the two handed over daily affairs of the Morgan family and Eternal Night to Caius and Akin, officially starting their global honeymoon.
Their private jet took off from France with no fixed itinerary, going wherever they wanted.
The first stop was Iceland.
They chased the northern lights in heavy SUVs during polar night, embraced in outdoor hot springs in the wilderness.
The second stop was Italy.
Sean took her through Rome's ancient streets, tasting top-shelf red wine sealed for half a century at a private vineyard in Florence.
Then Switzerland, Norway, Greece, Argentina, New Zealand...
In just six months, their footprints covered more than a dozen countries worldwide.
This wasn't just a pure honeymoon trip. Wherever they went, Isabelle would check on local Eternal Night branch operations.
And Sean accompanied her the whole time, arranging all food and lodging, even personally selecting ingredients at local markets to cook for her.
Until the honeymoon reached its fifteenth country, a private island off the west coast of North America.
One morning, Isabelle had just smelled the seafood porridge Sean brought up when her stomach suddenly churned.
She rushed to the bathroom, dry heaving nonstop.
Sean's face changed dramatically, even dropping the bowl in his hand.
He rushed into the bathroom, helping her catch her breath while immediately calling in a private jet and top medical team.
Two hours later, at the island's private hospital.
A white female obstetrician-gynecologist in her fifties looked at the lab results and smiled, congratulating the somewhat nervous Sean, "Mr. Morgan, Miss Morgan is very healthy. She's just pregnant, exactly eight weeks."
Pregnant.
These two words made the usually strategic Sean freeze in place for a full half minute.
He turned his head to look at Isabelle sitting on the examination bed, his deep eyes instantly bursting with indescribable wild joy and carefulness.
From that day on, Sean completely transformed into a professional dad.
Sean quickly ended the remaining itinerary, carefully flying back to Washington with Isabelle.
He covered the estate in the softest carpets, wrapping all sharp furniture corners.
Not only that, he canceled all unnecessary social engagements, bought dozens of thick books on childcare and pregnancy care, sat in his study wearing gold-rimmed glasses studying them word by word, taking notes more seriously than reviewing billion-dollar contracts.
From pregnancy nutrition and daily massage to changing diapers, preparing formula, and putting the baby to sleep after birth, Sean handled everything personally without any nannies.
He even specifically obtained certifications as a high-end maternal and infant care specialist and nutritionist.
In the years that followed, time passed.
Isabelle didn't stop because of her role as a mother.
On the contrary, after being freed from life's trivial matters, she poured all her energy into career and power expansion.
With Mexico's Eternal Night as the core and North America's Morgan family as the foundation, Isabelle's influence snowballed bigger and bigger.
Within just five years, her business empire and underground intelligence network completely connected North America, Europe, South America, and Southeast Asia.
Whether in the legitimate top capital circles or the unseen Western underworld, Isabelle's name became synonymous with absolute power. Her influence spread globally, unshakable by anyone.
Behind this vast empire, Sean stepped back.
He merged all decision-making power of Everlight Group under Isabelle, settling down at the estate to raise their children and manage everything at home.
Whenever Isabelle finished a bloody capital game or gang purge outside and opened the door, she'd always see Sean in comfortable home clothes, wearing an apron, with her favorite hot meal on the table and their well-behaved child beside him, smiling and saying, "You're home."
He became the most solid support behind Isabelle, and also the only and forever man in her life.