Chapter 159

Chapter 159

Serena's POV

After dealing with Vivian, we returned to Blackwood Manor.

The night had grown deep.

Wall sconces illuminated the manor's corridors, their warm glow pooling on the marble floors and stretching our shadows long behind us.

I pushed open the bedroom door, barely managing to hang up my coat before an arm wrapped around me from behind.

Ethan rested his chin on the crown of my head, his breathing steady, voice low: "Tired?"

"Mm."

"Liar." He let out a soft laugh, his breath falling against my ear with a hint of warmth. "Your eyes are still bright."

I said nothing more.

The curtains weren't fully drawn. Night air slipped through the gap, lifting the sheer fabric and letting it fall again. Moonlight, diluted by the city's glow, left only a vague shimmer of fractured silver on the floor. I could hear Ethan's heartbeat—steady, strong—so close that it nearly merged with my own.

His fingers slowly unfastened the buttons of my coat, one by one, each movement deliberate and light, as if asking permission.

I didn't refuse.

He slid the coat from my shoulders, his fingertips trailing along my collarbone, leaving a path of delicate warmth. My breathing unconsciously grew shallow.

He turned me to face him. His gaze was deep—so deep I didn't know where to look.

"Serena." He only called my name, his voice slightly hoarse.

Then he lowered his head and kissed me.

The kiss was light—so light I almost thought it was an apology.

After that, we saw only each other. All grievances, schemes, the six years of struggle and misunderstanding—everything vanished in that warm lamplight. His palm was hot against my waist, as if confirming I was still there. His kisses moved from the corner of my lips to behind my ear, to the side of my neck, each one leaving a clear mark of warmth.

I clutched his shirt, my knuckles white.

The bedside lamp was set to its dimmest setting, the soft light blurring our silhouettes into hazy outlines. His body pressed against mine—solid, real—and in that moment, all distance between us ceased to exist.

He was gentle, and restrained. Every movement seemed to ask: 'Is this okay?'

Each time, my answer was: 'Yes.'

I don't know how long it lasted before we both fell still. He held me against his chest, fingers combing gently through my hair again and again, as if lulling something to sleep.

I asked him, "What are you thinking?"

He was silent for a moment, his voice hoarse and soft, as if afraid to break something fragile:

"I'm thinking... I need to protect you from now on."

I didn't speak. I just buried my face deeper into his chest.

Somewhere deep inside me, something quietly loosened.

---

In the days that followed, life grew unexpectedly calm.

Crimson Jewelry had won its lawsuit. Industry suppliers who'd been sitting on the sidelines flocked back like migratory birds. I started reorganizing the brand launch schedule, smoothing out the timeline that had been thrown into chaos.

Every day after school, the kids came to find me in the study.

Aiden always brought fruit, skewered neatly on toothpicks and arranged beside my documents. Then he'd look up at me with complete seriousness and ask, "Mom, did you eat properly today?"

Lily and Evan's motives were far less pure.

Both would come in claiming they "just wanted to see Mom," but would inevitably mess up the files I'd just organized, then lift their heads in perfect synchronization with identical innocent expressions.

Then they'd bolt.

I'd chase after them. Ethan would be coming up the stairs at just the right moment, catching both little troublemakers mid-escape. He'd arch one brow, his tone laced with undisguised indulgence:

"Causing trouble again?"

"Dad! Mom's chasing us!"

I stood at the end of the hallway, watching him scoop up both children—one tucked under each arm—and turn toward me. His expression was full of laughter, even his usually cold eyes glowing with warmth.

In that moment, something soft and gentle pierced through my heart.

I'd known this feeling for a long time, but only now did it finally have a name.

[Quiet happiness.]

That was it.

---

One afternoon, I was organizing jewelry sample catalogs in my office when my assistant knocked and entered, her tone hesitant. "Ms. Sterling, Marcus is here. He says... he'd like to speak with you privately."

The pen in my hand paused.

After a few seconds of silence, I nodded. "Let him in."

When Marcus walked in, I immediately noticed how haggard he looked. His dark suit was wrinkled, his tie undone, and deep shadows pooled beneath his eyes—like he hadn't slept in days. He stood at the office door like a stranger uncertain whether he should cross the threshold.

He sat down across from me and remained silent for a long time—so long I thought he might simply sit there without saying anything at all. Finally, he spoke.

"Serena, I'm sorry."

His voice was low and hoarse, as if he'd rehearsed the words countless times in his mind, but even so, something still caught in his throat when he spoke them aloud.

"I know that saying this now... it's not enough." He lifted his eyes to meet mine, and in them was lucid guilt. "What you suffered can't be erased by an apology. But I still have to say it—whether or not you're willing to hear it right now, I need to say it."

I sat across from him in silence.

Not in refusal. Not in coldness. I simply... couldn't find the words to respond.

I knew Marcus was a victim too.

Ethan had told me after the investigation—Jade had used hallucinogens and hypnosis to control him for years. The things he'd done to me during that time weren't entirely of his own volition.

Rationally, I understood that.

But forgiveness was never something that could be reasoned through.

Those winters at Sterling Estate. The nights spent ignored, pushed aside, treated as invisible. The grievances I'd never spoken aloud, buried so deep they'd become scars. They wouldn't simply vanish just because someone said, "There was manipulation behind it all."

I just wasn't at the point where I could say, "It's okay."

Maybe someday I would be. Maybe it would take a long time.

But not now. I couldn't do it yet.

Marcus seemed to read something in my silence. He didn't press. He simply lowered his head, clasped his hands on his knees, and after a moment, continued:

"There's something else I want you to know."

He paused. "About Jade."

I raised my eyes slightly.

"The day Vivian's identity was exposed, Jade collapsed in a fit of rage and was taken to Manhattan General Hospital." His voice was flat, emotionless. "The test results came back. The doctor said she was never pregnant at all."

I said nothing, just listened quietly.

It was within my expectations, though I hadn't anticipated it would be exposed so quickly.

"She lied to me." Marcus gave a bitter smile, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. "From start to finish. There was no child. It was all a lie."

He paused, his voice so calm it was as if he were narrating someone else's story. "We're divorced now. The paperwork was finalized two days ago."

"From now on, she won't be an issue anymore."

I looked at him in silence.

In this moment, the man seemed extraordinarily aged, as if something vital had been drained from him overnight, leaving only an empty shell sitting in that chair.

I didn't say, "You deserved it." I didn't say, "You're finally awake."

Once, I might have said those things. But now... I just felt tired.

Tired from everything that had been consumed over those years.

We talked for about half an hour. When Marcus stood to leave, he stopped at the door but didn't turn around.

"Serena, I hope you live well."

I watched his figure disappear down the hallway. Something inside me hollowed out for a moment, then settled.

---

After work, Ethan was waiting for me in the living room, a cup of coffee—long since cold—sitting beside him.

When he saw me come in, he didn't speak. He simply shifted to the side, making room for me.

I sat down next to him and briefly recounted what Marcus had said.

He listened without a trace of surprise, then lowered his gaze and lightly placed his fingers over the back of my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"There's one more thing I need to tell you," Ethan said, looking at me.

I asked curiously, "What?"

Ethan lifted his eyes, his expression calm but his tone carrying a quiet weight. "Vivian and Jade—everything they've done over the years—I've compiled all the evidence and turned it over to the police."

He paused, his voice measured but firm. "Forged identity, kidnapping, drugging, conspiracy with criminals... every single charge is a federal crime. All that awaits them now is judgment."

I leaned against his shoulder, watching the dusk settle outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. Manhattan's skyline slowly disappeared into the orange-red glow, the glass facades of the high-rises reflecting the last rays of light before going dark.

Something inside me slowly sank—settled into a deep, steady place.

It wasn't relief. It wasn't entirely joy either.

It was simply... the calm of something finally ending.

"There will be a reckoning," I said softly, as if speaking to myself.

Ethan lowered his head and pressed his chin lightly against the top of my hair. "Mm."

After a long silence, Ethan spoke again, his voice soft.

"Serena, will you marry me?"