Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
AOIFE O’MALLEY
Alexander's arms around me felt like the safest place in the world.
I traced lazy patterns on his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath my palm—strong, reliable, alive.
The afterglow wrapped around us like silk, and I never wanted this moment to end.
His skin was warm beneath my fingertips, carrying the faint scent of his cologne.
"What happens now?" I asked, tilting my head to meet his gaze. His eyes were softer than I'd seen them in months, the hard edges finally smoothed away.
He combed his fingers through my hair, gentle and reverent, sending shivers down my spine. "I'll continue working with Ronan, but Coyne's being trained to handle operations. When we're in Ireland, he'll manage things here under my direction."
I was quiet for a long moment, gathering courage for what I'd been considering for weeks. The words felt enormous in my chest, pressing against my ribs like caged birds. "I've been thinking about what I want to do with our life."
"Tell me." His voice was soft, encouraging, one hand stroking down my back in soothing circles.
"I've always wanted to write a novel." The admission tumbled out, my cheeks flushing. "Something I never told my father because he would have dismissed it as frivolous." I looked up at Alexander, vulnerability making my chest tight. "When things settle, I'd like to try."
His face transformed—eyes lighting up, smile breaking across his features like sunrise. The pride in his expression made my breath catch. "Then you should. You're brilliant, Aoife. You could do anything you wish."
Relief flooded through me, warm and sweet. I'd feared he might think it impractical or silly. "And you? What do you want to do?"
He hesitated, then a shy smile crossed his features—an expression I rarely saw on him.
His thumb traced along my shoulder blade as he considered his words.
"This will sound mad, but I've always fancied having a bed and breakfast. Maybe with a traditional pub attached.
Somewhere people could come to relax, enjoy good food and drink. "
My heart swelled with love for this man showing me such tender vulnerability.
I could picture it perfectly—Alexander charming guests, ensuring everyone felt welcomed.
It suited him more than he probably realised.
"That's not mad at all. It's wonderful. We'll have that huge mansion in Ireland once it's rebuilt.
We could dedicate part of it to exactly that. "
His eyes grew distant, and I could practically see the wheels turning. "You'd want to transform your family home into a hospitality business?"
I considered it, imagining the grand rooms filled with laughter instead of shadows, children running through bright hallways that had seen too much darkness.
"Better than letting it stand empty. It might help heal some of the bad juju that place has harboured and …
all the horrible things." I smiled, the vision becoming clearer.
"Besides, my father always said the Irish knew how to make guests feel welcome. "
Alexander's expression grew thoughtful as if he could see our future taking shape. His hand stilled on my back, and I felt the tension in his body as excitement built. "I'd fund the renovations. Whatever you need to make it perfect."
Lost for words, I simply pressed a kiss to his chest. “Ronan?” I finally asked.
“I’ll work it out,” he replied enigmatically.
He was quiet for a moment, then reached into the picnic basket, movements careful not to disturb our cozy nest. The blanket shifted around us, letting in a whisper of cool air that made me burrow closer to his warmth.
When he retrieved a perfectly ripe strawberry, holding it up between us, my mouth watered at its deep red colour.
"Hungry?" he asked, mischief dancing in his eyes.
I grinned, suddenly aware of how empty my stomach was. We'd been so caught up in each other that we'd barely touched the beautiful spread he'd prepared. "Famished."
"Open your mouth," he instructed, bringing the fruit to my lips with deliberate slowness. "Bite slowly."
Something in his tone made me pay attention to how his breathing had changed. I obeyed, sinking my teeth into the sweet, plump flesh. But then I stopped, eyes widening as I encountered something hard hidden within the berry. My heart began to race.
"What—" I began, then gasped as Alexander helped me extract the object with gentle fingers.
It was a ring. A perfect emerald with diamonds on each side. “You found it…” he said with a smile. The breath left my lungs in a rush, and my hands began to shake.
"Aoife O'Malley," he continued, his voice rough with emotion as he lifted himself on one elbow and looked down at me. My hands flew to my mouth as tears began to gather, blurring my vision. "Will you marry me?"
I stared at him. His hair was mussed from my fingers, his chest bare, and he'd never looked more beautiful or vulnerable. The weight of the moment settled over me like a weighted blanket.
"You want to marry me? Truly?" My voice came out as barely more than a whisper, disbelief and joy warring in my chest.
"I can't imagine living without you. I don't want to try.
" His words were steady, certain, even as his hands trembled slightly.
"Since I first saw you and touched you … it’s always been you.
I want to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of my life.
I want to build something beautiful with you, something that's ours alone. "
Joy exploded through my chest like champagne bubbles, effervescent and overwhelming. Tears spilled down my cheeks. After all we’d been through, I couldn’t disagree with what he said. "Yes," I whispered, then louder, my voice breaking with emotion, "Yes, of course yes!"
He slipped the ring onto my finger with reverent care, his own hands shaking now. I marvelled at how perfectly it fit, as if it had been waiting for my hand. The emerald glimmered against my pale skin.
"There's something else." He reached into the picnic basket to retrieve a small, wrapped box he'd hidden beneath everything else.
I accepted it with trembling hands. The wrapping paper was elegant midnight blue with a silver ribbon, and I could barely make my fingers work to open it. When I finally managed to lift the lid, my gasp echoed through the room.
Inside lay two knives, nestled in black velvet that made them gleam like precious jewels.
The first was my father's prized heirloom—the handle inlaid with obsidian and ivory, studded with emeralds, the exquisitely crafted blade inscribed with the O'Malley family motto: Dílseacht agus Neart. Loyalty and Strength.
My throat closed with emotion as I took in every detail—this knife had been part of our family for generations.
Beside it lay its twin—identical in every way except for the inscription on the blade, which read in elegant Gaelic script: In aghaidh na n-ábhar uile.
"My father's knife," I whispered. "How did you—"
"I took it from your belongings when you were first captured," he said softly, watching my face carefully. "I contacted Barrett afterward—he confirmed its significance and helped me understand what it meant to your family. He thought you should have it back."
I shook my head, snorting. I turned to the second knife, running my finger along the inscription, my Irish rolling off my tongue as I translated. "Against all odds."
"That's us," he said simply. "Isn’t it?"
My breath hitched as I realised he was right. He’d told our story in three words—without frills, and that’s how it always seemed. Impossible.
I set the knives aside carefully, then threw my arms around his neck.
"It's perfect. You're perfect. This is all perfect." The words came out muffled against his skin, and I felt his arms tighten around me, holding me close.
Alexander rose, pulling me up with him, his hands gentle on my waist. Then, he retrieved our crystal champagne flutes and refilled them with the last of the Dom Pérignon. The bubbles rose like tiny stars, and I watched them with wonder, feeling as effervescent as the wine itself.
“But first…” He reached into the basket once more, producing a small silver flask that glinted in the dying light. "This deserves a toast," he said, unscrewing the cap with a grin that made my heart skip, "the Alexander Moore way."
The familiar scent of Macallan 18 filled the air as he poured the amber liquid into the flask's small cup.
"To my fiancée," he said, raising the cup to his lips and taking a sip before offering it to me. His eyes never left mine, and I could see forever in their depths.
I accepted it with a wicked grin, already planning my teasing. The whiskey burned pleasantly, smooth and rich with hints of oak and honey. "You know, now that you're going to be Irish by marriage, you really should switch to proper Irish whiskey."
"Never," he said firmly, eyes dancing with laughter. Before I could protest further, he pulled me down for a kiss.
I tasted the liquor on his tongue, and couldn’t wait to get our life started. When we finally broke apart, both breathless, I rested my forehead against his and looked down at my beautiful ring.
"I love you," he said, voice rough with emotion. "More than you can imagine."
"And I love you," I replied, my heart so full I thought it might burst. I cupped his face in my hands, memorizing every line and angle. "You surprise me at every turn."
As we held each other, I thought about how far we'd travelled to reach this moment.
From enemies to lovers, from suspicion to trust, from the darkness of our families' histories to the bright possibility of our shared future.
Every scar, every moment of pain had led us here, to this perfect spot where everything finally made sense.
"Mrs. Moore," Alexander murmured against my hair, testing how the name sounded.
I laughed, the sound bubbling up from pure joy, echoing off the empty walls of our new home. "I rather like the sound of that. Though I suspect you'll still try to follow me to the loo."
"Probably," he admitted without shame. "If you think that’s going to change, you’re delusional."
I scoffed at that. "Just promise me one thing.
" I pulled back to meet his gaze, my hands framing his face, thumbs tracing the sharp line of his cheekbones.
"Promise me you'll let us live, not just survive.
I want adventures with you, Alexander. I want laughter and joy and yes, even a bit of peril now and then.
I don't want to spend our lives hiding from shadows. "
His expression grew serious, then darkened. "I promise to keep you on edge as often as I can," he sported a wicked grin, "Though regarding the other sort of danger, I reserve the right to tear to pieces anyone who even look at you wrong."
“Oh fuck.” I shook my head, mirth taking over my body, then rose up to kiss again, tasting laughter on his lips. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
The sun was setting now, casting everything in shades of gold and amber.
Through the windows, I could see the grounds of Ashford Estate stretching out before us—our temporary home that had become the birthplace of nightmares and dreams at the same time.
In a week, these same grounds would host Ronan and Cressida's wedding, and I knew ours wouldn't be far behind.
"Tell me about the ring," I said, holding up my hand to take a closer look. The emerald seemed to glow from within, and I wondered how anything could be so perfect.
Alexander hooked a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
"It’s custom made. The emerald is from Ireland, from the same region as your family's land.
I wanted there to be a connection." He paused, his thumb tracing over the stone.
"But mostly I chose it because it matches your eyes perfectly.
Those green eyes that captured me from the first moment I saw you. "
There went the tears again, stinging my eyes. Fucking hell. "How long have you been planning this?"
"Since the hospital," he admitted, colour rising in his cheeks. "I bought the stone the day after you woke up. Had to threaten the jeweller to get it finished in time. Fear has its benefits."
I laughed, imagining Alexander terrifying craftsmen into doing their work. "Of course you did."
"I wanted everything to be perfect for you," he said simply, matter-of-factly.
"And it is perfect," I whispered, reaching up to kiss him again. "Nothing short of that."
As the last light faded and stars began to appear in the sky, I couldn’t believe we were here, now, contemplating a future so far from what we both thought would be our destiny.
Who knew we’d end up like this? We had Ronan and Cressida's wedding to attend, our own wedding to plan, houses to build and dreams to chase.
We had the rest of our lives stretching before us like an open road—full of possibility, adventure, and the kind of love that could survive anything.
Would we have children? How would Ronan take the news of Alexander quitting the business?
He said he’d make it work. Maybe he wouldn’t altogether leave, just delegate to someone, perhaps Coyne?
I had no clue because this world was ruthless and unforgiving.
Still, I had a feeling it would all work out.
In my case, it would be easier. Everyone was scattered, the business going to the ground.
Essentially there was nothing left. We weren’t as organised and well-put-together as the Flanagans.
For my father, blackmail and extortion, as well as lucrative deals providing muscle to other families and doing their dirty work had been a specialty.
Now, everyone looked at the O’Briens for all this, and I had no obligation to follow suit.
A rare opportunity in our world to wrench myself free of my father’s shadow.
My brother didn’t care as long as he had his fun.
Would Barrett stay on? Would anyone previously on my father’s payroll ever come back to help with a completely different endeavour?
We had a lot to work on, a lot to do. I kissed Alexander, a simple kiss, pressing my lips to his. Everything would fall into place.
Right now, all I wanted was this.
Him, my Alexander, his hard body against mine until morning. Really, for the last few years, it had always been him. He’d ruined me for everyone.
Closing my eyes, I let sleep reach out to me and claim me for a while.
When we woke up tomorrow, life would start afresh. We had forever to look forward to.