Chapter 9
RONAN
Marcus stands before my desk, hands clasped behind his back. The Christmas tree in the corner seems at odds with the conversation we’re having. I don’t even know why it’s there to begin with. Must have been my secretary’s doing.
“I want every loan record Lucian King has ever touched,” I tell him. “Every property he owns, every shell company, every bank account. I want his empire dismantled brick by brick.”
Marcus nods, unfazed. He’s been my right-hand man for years, handling the tasks that require absolute discretion. “We’ve already frozen his accounts. His men have been advised to seek other employment.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the desk.
“I want him out of business permanently. No more preying on desperate people who have nowhere else to turn.” The memory of Lucian’s hand reaching toward Rayne’s face flashes in my mind, and my jaw tightens.
“Make sure he understands the consequences of defiance.”
“Of course.” Marcus’s expression remains neutral, but I catch the glint of approval in his eyes.
He’s seen firsthand what men like Lucian do.
“The legal team is prepared to assist anyone who’s been victimized.
We’ve identified seventeen cases so far of predatory lending with interest rates that would make a shark blush. ”
“Good.” I stand, moving to the window. Snow falls gently outside, coating the grounds in pristine white. “I want all their debts cleared. Anonymous Christmas gift. Make it happen.”
“That’s ... generous.” For once, Marcus sounds surprised.
I turn to face him. “No one should live in fear of men like King, especially during the holidays.”
What I don’t say is how Rayne’s face has haunted me since last night—the momentary flash of terror when she saw Lucian, followed by the resignation. She’d been living with that fear for months, maybe years, believing she had to face it alone.
Never again.
After he leaves, I stand for a moment, watching the snow. My empire was built on cold calculation and relentless drive. I’ve never been sentimental, never allowed myself to be vulnerable.
But now there’s Rayne. And Ryan. And somehow, inexplicably, Elena has worked her way into that same protected space in my heart. I’ll use every ounce of my power, every dollar of my fortune, to keep them safe.
It’s not just about money anymore. It’s about becoming the man they deserve.
The hospital corridor feels different today—less sterile, more hopeful.
Elena sits on the edge of her bed, bundled in a thick coat despite the warmth inside.
Her blonde hair, streaked with gray, is pulled into a neat bun, and she wears a touch of lipstick.
Despite her frailty, I see Rayne in her eyes, in the determined set of her jaw.
“Mr. Ward.” Her smile brightens when she sees me. “I thought you’d send a car or one of your employees.”
“It’s Ronan,” I remind her, crossing to help gather her few belongings. “And I wanted to come myself.”
She studies me, head tilted slightly. “You’re not at all what I expected when Rayne told me about the auction.”
I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. “I imagine not.”
“I thought you’d be…” She pauses, searching for the right word.
“Older? Softer?” I offer, packing her medications into a small bag.
“Less intimidating,” she says, eyes twinkling. “You’re far too scary to play Santa Claus. That’s for sure.”
I laugh, surprised by her candor. “Good thing we have my dad for that. I hear he’s bringing the suit tonight.”
“And you?” she asks, allowing me to help her into the wheelchair the nurse insists upon. “What’s your role in Christmas Eve?”
I push her toward the elevator, considering. “Security. Making sure everything runs smoothly.”
“Ah.” She nods sagely. “And watching over Rayne like she might disappear if you blink.”
My hands tighten momentarily on the wheelchair handles. Elena sees too much.
“She’s not going anywhere,” I say. “I’m not letting her go.”
Elena reaches back to pat my hand. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
In the car, she’s quiet for a while, watching the snow-covered landscape pass. I’m struck by how much she reminds me of Rayne—not just in appearance, but in spirit. The same quiet strength, the same perceptiveness.
“She doesn’t know I’m visiting tonight, does she?” Elena asks suddenly.
“No.” I merge onto the highway, glancing at her. “Ryan helped me plan it. He’s very excited about having ' New Grandma' for Christmas.”
Elena’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “He called me Grandma?”
“Is that all right?”
She blinks rapidly, looking away. “More than all right. I just never thought ... with Rayne before being uninterested in anyone, I didn’t think I’d live to see grandchildren.”
“Ryan chooses his own family,” I tell her. “He took one look at Rayne and decided she belonged to us. You’re part of that package deal.”
Elena laughs softly. “Quite the businessman, like his father.”
“He drives a harder bargain than I do.”
As we turn into the long driveway leading to my estate, Elena gasps. “It’s beautiful.” The mansion stands against the winter sky, windows glowing with warm light, wreaths on every door, and garlands winding up the columns. It looks nothing like the cold fortress it was before Rayne arrived.
“Wait until you see inside,” I tell her. “Rayne and Ryan have been decorating for hours.”
I help Elena from the car, steadying her as we approach the front door. Before I can open it, the door swings wide, and Ryan bursts out, bundled in his winter coat.
“Dad! You’re back!” He crashes into my legs, then peers around at Elena. “Uhm, hello?”
Elena bends slightly, her eyes warm. “Hello. I’m Rayne’s mom. You can call me Elena, or…”
“Or Grandma,” Ryan supplies helpfully.
Before Elena can respond, Rayne appears in the doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “Ryan, honey, you need to wait for your Dad to—”
She freezes, the towel slipping from her fingers. Her eyes go wide, her lips parting in shock as she sees her mother standing there.
“Mom?” The word comes out as a whisper.
Elena opens her arms. “Merry Christmas, my love.”
Rayne stumbles forward, a sob catching in her throat as she wraps her arms around her mother. They cling to each other, Rayne’s shoulders shaking with emotion. Ryan watches with solemn fascination, then looks up at me.
“She’s crying, Dad. Is she sad?”
I rest my hand on his head. “No, buddy. Those are happy tears.”
Rayne pulls back just enough to look at Elena’s face, her cheeks wet. “How are you here? I don’t understand—”
“Your man arranged everything,” Elena says, touching Rayne’s face. “It’s just for the holidays. I need to go back to the hospital after Christmas.”
Rayne turns to me, her eyes shining with tears. “Ronan…”
I shrug, uncomfortable with the naked gratitude in her expression. “It’s Christmas. No one should be in a hospital if they don’t have to be.”
Ryan tugs at Elena’s coat. “Come see our tree! It’s the biggest one EVER. And Dad let me put the star on top, and Rayne made cookies shaped like snowmen, and—”
“Slow down, buddy,” I laugh, guiding them all inside. “Grandma’s had a long day already.”
“Grandma,” Elena repeats softly, smiling down at Ryan. “I really like the sound of that.”
In the foyer, Rayne turns to me while Ryan excitedly shows Elena the decorations. Her eyes are still bright with tears, but her smile is radiant.
“Thank you,” she whispers, rising on her toes to kiss me. “This is the best Christmas gift I could ever imagine.”
I cup her face in my hands. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, sweetheart.”
By six o’clock, the house is filled with the aromas of a holiday feast. Mom and Dad arrive bearing additional dishes—Mom’s famous apple pie and Dad’s secret-recipe eggnog. He never really shared the recipe to me, says it was his specialty.
Mom bustles into the kitchen to help Rayne, while Dad settles on the couch beside Elena, asking about her health with genuine concern. Ryan bounces between them all, vibrating with excitement.
I stand in the doorway, watching. The Christmas tree glitters in the corner, presents piled beneath it. The fire crackles in the hearth. Laughter spills from the kitchen.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Dad appears at my side, offering another glass of eggnog.
I accept it, taking a sip. It burns pleasantly going down. “Just thinking this place has never been so loud.”
He chuckles. “That’s what happens when you let people in, son. They bring noise. And life.” He nods toward Rayne, who’s emerged from the kitchen, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the oven. “You found yourself a good one there.”
“I know.” My eyes follow her as she crosses to her mother, leaning down to whisper something that makes Elena laugh.
“Your mother and I like her,” he says quietly. “We like what you’ve done for yourself. We’re proud of you.” He gestures to the decorated room, the family gathering.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Dad slaps me on the shoulder. “We’re proud of the man you’ve become, Ronan. Not because of what you’ve built" —he nods toward the window, where the lights of the city twinkle in the distance— but because of who you’ve let yourself become."
Before I can respond, Mom calls from the dining room. "Dinner’s ready! Everyone wash up and find your seats!”
Ryan races to the bathroom, Elena following at a more sedate pace. Dad winks at me before going to help Mom with the final arrangements.
Rayne approaches, sliding her arms around my waist. “What were you and Thomas talking about? You looked serious.”
I press a kiss to her forehead. “The past. The present.” I look down into her eyes. “The future.”
She smiles, a hint of shyness in her expression. “I like the sound of that.”
“So do I.” More than she could possibly know.
This is what I’ve been missing. This is what I’ve been working for without even knowing it.
The bedroom is dark save for the faint glow of dawn beginning to creep around the curtains. I drift between sleep and wakefulness, warm beneath the down comforter. The house is quiet, peaceful after the joyful chaos of Christmas Eve.
A gentle touch on my thigh pulls me toward consciousness. Soft lips press against my abdomen, trailing lower. My eyes open to find Rayne beneath the covers, her blonde hair spilling across my skin as she takes me into her mouth.
“Rayne,” I groan, my voice rough with sleep and sudden desire. “Fuck, sweetheart.”
She hums in response, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through me. Her tongue swirls around the head of my cock, her hand working in tandem with her mouth. Her wet, slippery, sensual rhythm drawing me fully awake and rock-hard in seconds.
I thread my fingers through her hair, not directing, just connecting. She looks up, meeting my gaze as she takes me deeper, and the sight nearly finishes me. Her eyes are dark with desire, her cheeks hollowed as she sucks.
“Come here,” I growl, tugging gently.
She releases me with a final lick, then crawls up my body, her naked skin sliding against mine. In the dim light of approaching dawn, she’s ethereal—all soft curves and golden hair. She straddles me, her wet heat hovering just above where I need her most.
“Merry Christmas,” she whispers, lowering herself onto me with agonizing, teasing, slowness.
“Goddammit. You feel so good, sweetheart.”
I grip her hips, watching her face as she takes me inch by inch. Her lips part, her eyes flutter closed, and a soft moan escapes from her as she seats herself fully. She’s so tight, so perfect around me.
“Look at me, sweetheart. Open those eyes.”
Her eyes open, locking with mine as she begins to move. Slow at first, a gentle rock of her hips that has me clenching my jaw to maintain control. Then faster, her breathing quickening as she finds her rhythm.
Her skin gleams with a fine sheen of sweat, her breasts bounce slightly with each movement. I slide my hands up to cup them, thumbs brushing over her nipples, drawing a gasp from her lips.
“Ronan,” she breathes, her inner muscles clenching around me. “God, you feel so good.”
I sit up, wrapping one arm around her waist to hold her close while my other hand tangles in her hair. The change in angle makes her cry out, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“That’s it," I whisper against her neck. Take what you need from me.”
She moves faster, chasing her pleasure, her breath coming in short gasps against my ear. I can feel her tightening around me, getting close.
“Come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you.”
Her body goes taut, her back arching as she cries out my name. The pulsing of her around me nearly sends me over the edge, but I hold back, wanting to prolong this moment.
As she comes down from her high, I roll us, pressing her into the mattress. Her legs wrap around my waist, ankles crossing at the small of my back as I begin to thrust—deep, merciless strokes that have her moaning again.
“You’re mine,” I tell her, the words pulled from somewhere primal inside me. “Say it.”
“I’m yours. All yours, Ronan.”
Those words, combined with the perfect heat of her body, shatter my control. I drive into her one final time, burying my face in her neck as I come with an intensity that leaves me breathless. My cock twitches as I deliver my spend and coat her inner walls with my come.
We lie tangled together as the room gradually brightens with Christmas morning. Her fingers trace patterns on my back, her heartbeat slowing beneath my cheek. A euphoric cocktail of chemicals and hormones spirals upwards through my brain.
I press a kiss to the curve of her breast. That was quite a wake-up call.”
She laughs softly. “I wanted to give you your present early.”
“Best present I’ve ever received.” I prop myself up to look at her, taking in her flushed cheeks, her tousled hair, the contentment in her eyes.
I must have saved the world in my past life, because there’s no other explanation why I have this woman here right now.