Chapter Forty-five
NINA
Present Day
NEW YORK CITY
Friday evening arrived, a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in my chest. Not only for the surprise date with Ronan, but for the gnawing stress over the boutique.
Inaya and I had settled for a temporary space, a stopgap I wasn’t thrilled with, and the thought of asking Dillon or Ronan for help made my stomach twist. They were both carrying their own grief—Dillon with Azzaria, Ronan with her mother—and I didn’t want to add to it.
But then I thought of Ronan, of how he’d pulled me close instead of pushing me away, of the way his hands had anchored me, steady and warm. That memory alone made my pulse spike. I realized I didn’t want to go back to what we had. I wanted something better, something stronger, and he was it.
My phone buzzed. He was outside.
I exhaled and checked my reflection: black halter top, low-rise maxi skirt, high ponytail with curled ends, Dior jewelry catching the last light of the evening, Tory Burch sandals, and my black Prada purse.
“I’ll be back soon,” I called to Inaya, lounging on the couch with an episode of Scandal.
“You look hot,” she smirked. “Have fun with your billionaire.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the grin. “Whatever. Call me if anything.”
Stepping outside, my breath caught. He was leaning against his black Rolls-Royce, the city lights glinting off the sleek paint.
Navy blue shirt clinging to every line of muscle, sleeves rolled, top buttons undone enough to make my stomach flutter.
Hair perfect, eyes piercing me with a mix of heat and mischief that always made my heart stutter.
“Ronan,” I whispered, my voice caught somewhere between awe and relief.
“Mio Dio, you look… unreal, baby,” he said, eyes lighting up, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as I closed the distance between us.
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I teased, leaning in slightly, letting my fingers brush the front of his sleeve. “Davvero bello.86”
“Just trying to keep up with you,” he murmured, stepping closer, his hand brushing mine as he handed me a bouquet of peonies. The scent was intoxicating, and so was he.
I inhaled deeply, my fingers curling around the stems. “Thank you… You always know exactly the right flowers.”
His eyes flicked to mine, dark and playful. “Only the best for you.”
I smiled, a little flutter of heat running through me. “And here I thought you wanted me to think you’re perfect.”
He tilted his head, that signature smirk softening into something tender. “Maybe a little. But mostly… I just want you.”
A shiver ran through me at the words. Just like that, the tension between us crackled in the night air, heavy with longing, familiarity, and the promise of what we’d both been missing for five years.
“Ready for our adventure?”
“Adventure? Is that what we’re calling it now?” I arched an eyebrow as he opened the car door for me.
“Well, when you’re involved, it’s always an adventure,” he quipped.
I laughed, shaking my head. “Alright, Mr. Charming, let’s go.”
After a slow drive through traffic, we finally arrived. As we got out, I left my flowers on the front seat, grabbing my purse.
“Where are we?” I asked, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.
He took my hand, his grip sending a rush through me. “You’ll see.”
Ronan led me to the front door, unlocking it with a key. As we stepped inside, the first thing I saw stopped me in my tracks: the name of the store spelled out in peony petals— like the ones from the Flower Garden.
Il Vento Elegante.
What the fuck? That was the name of my boutique.
“Ronan…” I whispered, confusion clouding my voice.
He smirked, flicking on the light. My heart dropped, and tears immediately welled in my eyes as I took in the sight.
“What the fuck?” I gasped, overwhelmed. The boutique was a dream come to life.
Peonies adorned the entrance, creating an elegant arch.
Inside, fabric rolls of every color and texture lined the walls, while luxurious seating areas were scattered throughout.
The space was immaculate, from the polished floors to the mannequins dressed in my designs.
“You didn’t…” I barely managed, my voice trembling with disbelief.
He squeezed my hand gently. “I did.”
He showed me around, each section of the boutique perfectly arranged.
Workstations with sewing machines, cutting tables, and shelves of tools.
The lighting was soft, casting a warm glow over everything.
I hugged him tightly, tears flowing freely as I felt a wave of safety and warmth.
The walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble in his embrace.
“How did you do all this?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
“You mentioned it at the gala,” he said softly, his hand stroking my back. “I know how tough it’s been for you, especially with the market here. I knew you needed this space for your deal with Eminence.”
I couldn’t find the words, so I kissed him instead—a slow, tender kiss full of gratitude. His lips were warm, perfectly in sync with mine, and everything else faded away.
He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against mine, a smile tugging at his lips. “Come on, let me show you more.”
He led me around the boutique, pointing out thoughtful details—embroidered pillows, handpicked fabrics, and vintage furniture. It was as if he had reached into my mind and brought my dreams to life.
Finally, we reached a door at the back. “This is your office,” he said, opening the door and gesturing for me to enter first.
Inside, I froze. The office was a perfect blend of elegance and functionality.
A beautifully crafted desk sat in the center, with shelves of fashion books and sketches.
On the walls, framed pictures from my fashion show, photos of me with Inaya, and cherished images of my mother hung proudly.
And there, in a frame, was the Vogue article—my proudest moment.
A soft pink rug covered the floor, adding warmth to the room. A vase of fresh peonies sat on a small table by the window, their sweet fragrance filling the air. A bulletin board with pinned sketches, ideas, and notes stood nearby.
Tears welled up again as I turned to him. “It’s perfect,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
He pulled me into his arms. “I’m glad you think so.”
In that moment, I realized that with him, happiness wasn’t a fleeting feeling—it was something real and lasting.
Ronan reached into the top drawer of the desk and handed me a heavy, neatly bound folder. “Here.”
I glanced at it, confused. “What’s this?”
“It’s a portfolio with the best seamstresses, cashiers, and other staff you’ll need to run your business here. They’re top-notch and a call away. Say the word, and I’ll handle it.”
My heart swelled as I took the folder, my hands trembling. I was overwhelmed, my mind racing with the enormity of his gesture. He had thought of everything, and it felt like a lifetime of dreams unfolding before me.
He drew close, his breath warm against my ear, and whispered with raw intensity, “I love you. My heart has always been irrevocably yours. Even if the stars fell and reality unraveled, my love for you would remain unshaken. I don’t ask for a promise or expect you to mirror my feelings, but I need you to know how deep I feel for you. ”
Internally, I was consumed by a storm of emotions.
The idea of hating Ronan seemed impossible.
I could try to be indifferent, but it would be futile.
Ronan was like a fever, burning steadily inside me, a passion so consuming it defied reason.
His presence was unshakable, embedded deeply in my heart and soul.
Our connection was like a vast, uncharted ocean—its depths immeasurable, its currents inescapable.
No matter how hard I tried, words could never capture the extent of my feelings. This was a love woven into the very essence of my being, shaping and defining me in ways I couldn’t fully comprehend.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. Instead, I whispered his name. Before I could say anything more, he gently kissed my lips.
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “ Just know I mean every word.”
We stood there in the heart of the boutique, surrounded by everything that symbolized my dreams and Ronan’s belief in me.
My heart was brimming with gratitude and love, a peaceful fullness that made it hard to believe it was all real.
Ronan made this happen for me, and everything felt perfectly aligned.
As we left the office, he handed me the keys, a soft smile on his face. “Don’t worry about rent or any expenses. Everything’s taken care of. The floral team will refresh the flowers every five days. Cleaners will come daily. Coffee, water, and snacks will be stocked weekly. And—”
He paused, his eyes locking onto mine. The look of pure admiration in my gaze seemed to take him by surprise.
“What?” His voice was gentle, almost vulnerable, like he was afraid of what he might find in me.
My words spilled out, rushed and disjointed. “I don’t even know how to… how to take it all in.”
He cupped my hands, his grip tender but firm, as if grounding me in the moment.
His eyes searched mine with such intensity my heart stumbled over itself.
“Let me make it right,” he said, the sincerity in his tone undeniable.
“I want to see that look in your eyes… the way they turn into dark pools of molten chocolate when you’re truly happy.
I want to be the one who makes you feel treasured, who shows you how much you mean to me. ”
I stood there, utterly overwhelmed. His gesture wasn’t only about a business; it was about a part of me I had nearly forgotten how to dream of. The boutique wasn’t just a store—it was a reflection of how he felt about me, how deeply he cared.
“Ronan, I…” My voice cracked as tears welled up, threatening to spill over.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, his touch both soothing and grounding. “Let me do this for you,” he whispered. “Let me be the one to make you feel seen, valued, and adored.”
His love wasn’t only something he said; it was something he lived, something he demonstrated with every action, every thoughtful move.
I took a deep breath, feeling the magnitude of his gesture settling over me. My heart was so full, I couldn’t contain it. Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him again.
The kiss was tender but fierce, a wordless conversation. His lips were warm and inviting, and the way he held me—his touch as soft as it was sure—spoke more than words ever could. I could feel the weight of his promises… of a thousand fixed promises.
The kiss felt like it paused time, a perfect moment that seemed to stretch on forever. It lingered, sweet and intimate, creating a connection far deeper than any words could express.
When we finally parted, I hesitated for a moment, my thoughts swirling. “What about the tickets you sent?”
Ronan raised an eyebrow, a playful twinkle in his eye. “What about them?”
“There are two tickets,” I said, my curiosity piqued. “Just two.”
He nodded. “One for you and Inaye.”
I smiled, correcting him gently. “Her name is Inaya.”
He chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m not interested in remembering any woman’s name except yours.”
His tone softened then, and he hesitated before adding, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there.”
The vulnerability in his voice tugged at my heart, and I took his hands in mine, squeezing gently. “I’ll always want you there, even when I think I don’t.”
The relief that washed over his face was palpable, his expression softening with affection. “That means everything to me.”