"Solnishko, six months I watched you from a distance. Eight months I've held you in my arms. And for the rest of my life, I want to wake up with you beside me."
Her breath catches as I open the box, revealing the ring inside, an emerald that matches her eyes, surrounded by diamonds set in platinum.
"I promised you once I'd be invisible until I chose not to be." My voice drops lower, rougher with an emotion I don't try to hide. "I'm choosing now to be seen by you, only you, for the rest of my life."
Fee's eyes fill with tears, but her smile—God, her smile could light all of Manhattan in a blackout.
"Fiona Quinn, marry me. Be my wife, my partner, the mother of my children. Let me worship you every day until death. And even then, I'll find you in whatever comes after."
A tear spills down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb, this precious evidence of her emotion.
I take the ring from its velvet nest, holding it poised at the tip of her finger.
"Please say yes, Solnishko. Choose me the way I've chosen you, completely, without reservation."
"Yes," she whispers, then louder, "Yes, Anton. Always yes."
I slide the ring onto her finger, where it catches the morning light. Then I kiss her—slowly, thoroughly, sealing our promise with more than words.
When we part, breathless, I press my forehead to hers.
"You've brought the light back into my world, Fee. You make me better than I am."
"No," she says, framing my face with her hands. "I just see who you really are. And I choose him, I choose you, today and every day."
Fee glances at her ring nervously as we pull up to Lorenzo's estate. Snow blankets the grounds, Christmas lights still twinkling along the roofline. I squeeze her hand, feeling the platinum band against my fingers.
"Ready, Solnishko?" I ask, bringing her knuckles to my lips.
She laughs. "To tell my father you proposed this morning after making me scream your name? Absolutely."
I smirk. "I'll leave out those details."
Inside, the warmth hits us immediately—both the temperature and the atmosphere. Moira spots us first, waddling over with little Aiden balanced on her hip, the almost seven-month-old dressed in a ridiculous sweater with reindeer antlers.
"Happy New Year!" she calls, then freezes mid-step, her eyes locked on Fee's left hand. "Is that—"
Fee grins, wiggling her fingers so the emerald catches the light. "Surprise?"
Moira's squeal brings everyone running. Lorenzo, Maks, Sage, Connor, Patrick, and even Dimitri appear from the study.
"Anton asked me to marry him," Fee announces, beaming. "I said yes."
Connor steps forward, and I brace myself—but he extends his hand. "Welcome to the family, son."
I shake his hand firmly. "Thank you, sir."
Fee looks between us, suspicious. "You don't seem shocked, Dad."
"Anton came to see me two weeks ago," Connor admits. "Asked for my blessing, traditional-like."
Fee turns to me, eyebrow raised. "Old school, are you?"
I shrug. "For some things."
Moira thrusts the baby into Fee's arms. "Practice time, future mama."
Fee cradles him expertly, cooing nonsense as he grabs for her camellia pendant.
