security she assumed she wanted. He was her solace, her happiness, her reason for laughter, and her
desire for so much more.
For the first time in her life, she was able to imagine a future without considering Pearl. She could
go wherever she wanted, be whomever she chose. She was free, but held safe. Not out of obligation or
because he had become a liability to her heart, but because she wanted him.
On the nightstand, she saw a felt-tip pen and paper. Lucian’s fingers trailed over her breasts as the
two of them gazed at the ceiling in contentment. She reached for the pen and sat up.
“What are you doing?” he said, grumbling that she interrupted their comfort.
“Give me your hand.” He held out his right hand. “No, the other one.”
His brow crinkled, but he gave her the hand covered in the cast. She looked down at the plaster
bandage, remembering how frightened she’d been that day. Turning his wrist, she uncapped the pen
with her teeth and pressed it to the scratchy surface. Her hand moved with practiced effort.
MARRY ME
Lucian looked at her inscription and stilled. His shoulders rose, as he seemed to let out a breath he’d been holding for far too long. When he gazed up at her, there were tears in his eyes, shimmering like
dark puddles in the moonlight. He shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips.
A soft, gravelly laugh slipped past his throat. She didn’t know what was so funny, then he leaned
over to his side of the bed and produced a familiar box. It was her ring. “I’ve been lugging this thing around for months, waiting for the right moment, and you beat me to it.”
Her face split with a grin as relief rushed through her veins. “I didn’t know if you’d ever ask again.”
“It’s all I’ve wanted to ask.” He opened the box. There was her favorite stone, polished into several
fine pearls nestling the most beautiful diamond she’d ever seen in her life. He withdrew the ring. His
voice was soft, full of emotion. “Evelyn, be my queen, protect me, stand by me, love me, and I
promise to always do the same.”
The ring slid on her finger and fit perfectly. She admired the way the stones and the diamond
winked in the moonlight. Gazing back at Lucian, she whispered, “Yes.”
Every night, every chill, every ache, suddenly fell into place. This was what she was meant for. In a
world of uncertainty, she’d never before felt like she belonged as she did in that moment, in his arms.
He was hers. And for the first time, a true sense of peace opened her heart. For he was the most
valuable thing she’d ever owned.
Part XII
Mrs. Lucian Patras
Epilogue
Six months later . . .
“‘The wedding was an intimate affair. Mrs. Patras wore a couture gown, her hair hung
in loose curls, as she made her vows to Folsom’s most sought-after bachelor. Only a few
close friends and family members attended the ceremony in the yard of Lucian Patras’s
mansion in the Hamptons.
‘The mysterious Evelyn Keats, now Patras, was rumored to have been escorted down
the aisle by none other than Christos Patras himself, who has been residing in Paris,
France, since his son overtook Patras Industries over a decade ago. The engagement was
kept secret for many months. Sources believe the couple was out of the country when the
proposal was made.
‘When spotted at a Manhattan bakery and asked about her past, Mrs. Patras simply
stated, “Perhaps someday I’ll write my own story, but until then, all you need to know is that
I fell in love with an incredible man who showed me what home was.”
‘The couple has since returned from their honeymoon in Greece and they are now back
in Folsom. While Patras remains the same unyielding financial king of Folsom, there is
speculation he is a different man behind the scenes. Family and friends have remained tight-
lipped regarding the newlyweds, but we suspect Folsom will be welcoming a very young, new
tycoon in the coming year.’”
***
Evelyn closed the tabloid and stared at her mother’s gravestone. “I wish you could have been there,
Momma. It was so wonderful. We danced and feasted like royalty. Everything was perfect. Lucian
even had a pair of sneakers made to match my dress for when my feet got tired.” She shook her head,
overwhelmed by how irrevocably she’d fallen for her husband.
Her hands patted the turned earth blanketing her mother. “We’ve started discussing children,” she
quietly confessed. “Lucian would like to try for a family, but I’m scared. He’d be a wonderful father.
Our children would never want for anything. I just . . . sometimes I worry.”
Evelyn never wanted to let her children down. She always wanted to be there for them, love them,
and assure them of it every day.
She’d had grown used to letting Lucian make most the difficult decisions. He was good at it, and
she trusted him to choose what was best for them. She held on to her apartment until after the