Epilogue
Luca
The energy from the ribbon-cutting ceremony still buzzed in the air as I led Charlie out of the new Paris office. She’d been radiant, surrounded by her family, closest friends, and the small team of employees who were just as excited as she was about this next step. She was glowing with pride—and rightfully so.
But tonight wasn’t over yet.
“Where are we going?”
she asked, her tone suspicious as I covered her eyes with my hands, guiding her step by step.
“You’ll see,”
I said, unable to hide the smile in my voice.
We entered a building off a quiet Parisian street. The elevator ride felt long, but my anticipation made every second stretch. When the doors opened, I carefully navigated her down the hall and stopped in front of the door.
“Okay,”
I said, unlocking it. “No peeking.”
“I’m starting to think you’re kidnapping me,”
she teased, though her voice trembled with curiosity.
I guided her inside, positioning her in the middle of the room. “Ready?”
I whispered.
“Luca—”
“You can open your eyes now.”
She did, blinking a few times before taking in the space. It was a classic Parisian flat, bathed in the golden glow of the evening. High ceilings with intricate crown molding framed the room. The original parquet floors gleamed, their warm wood tones contrasting with the crisp white walls. Tall French windows stretched from floor to ceiling, allowing the last rays of sunlight to filter in, casting soft, dappled shadows.
The room was empty except for a breathtaking fireplace, its marble mantel intricately carved. Above it hung Resilience—her favorite piece of art from Lena’s show.
Her gasp broke the silence.
“My painting!”
she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Her fingers trembled as she covered her mouth. “How?”
I stepped closer, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face. “I bought it from Lena weeks before the show. I wanted to find the perfect place for it.”
I paused, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “She was like a secret agent, making sure you didn’t find out.”
Charlie’s eyes welled with tears as she turned to me, her expression a mix of disbelief and joy. “Luca…”
Before I could say anything else, she threw her arms around my neck, pulling me into a kiss that felt like coming home. When she pulled back, her forehead rested against mine, and she whispered, “I love you, Luca Lione.”
My chest swelled with warmth, and I held her tightly, savoring the moment. “I love you too, Charlie Monroe. Welcome home.”