The Next Morning – Bella's Room, 7:42 a.m.
Bella woke to a stillness she wasn't used to.
No honking cars. No motorbike revs. No vendors shouting over one another. Just birdsong drifting in through slightly parted curtains, and the faint rustle of trees in the breeze.
The sheets were soft, scented faintly of lavender. The air carried peace. It felt like she'd woken in a dream... one that didn't want to end.
For a long moment, she lay there, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling and just breathing. For the first time in a long time, she felt something she couldn't name.
Maybe it was hope.
She threw the covers off and padded barefoot to the bathroom. Every item she could possibly need had already been arranged—face towels, body wash, silk robe, even a toothbrush with her initials engraved on the handle. It was... excessive, but she wasn't complaining.
The water was warm, the pressure perfect. Everything worked like magic.
By the time she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel with her hair up, skin still flushed from the heat, a soft knock came at the door.
She stiffened.
Quickly, she walked over and opened it just a crack.
"Mama Kate?"
The older woman stood there with a small, elegant smile—and in her hands, a beautifully crafted black-and-gold box tied with a red satin ribbon.
"Sir Davos would like you at the dining table by 9 a.m.," she said, gently handing over the box.
"Oh—thank you, Mama Kate," Bella said, puzzled but curious.
She closed the door and stared at the box in her hands like it might bite. Then, without hesitation, she set it on the bed and untied the ribbon.
The lid lifted with a soft hiss of luxury fabric.
Inside—
A single white envelope sealed in wax with the initial D. She pulled it out first, gently opening it.
It was an invitation. Clean cursive ink read:
"Mr. L. Marchesi requests the presence of Mr. Davos DeLaney and guest. Formal Evening. 8:00 p.m."
Bella blinked. It was real. Her name wasn't even mentioned, yet she was the guest. Her heart skipped.
Beneath the letter lay something that stole her breath.
An emerald green evening gown, smooth as water in her hands. Strapless, with a dramatic side slit that curved like silk around the waistline. The neckline was elegant—flattering without being loud. The fabric shimmered ever so slightly under the light.
Next to it, a pair of black stilettos with golden accents—no labels needed. She knew they were expensive just by how impossibly flawless they looked.
A black velvet box sat beside them, containing a thin diamond necklace and emerald drop earrings—perfectly matching the gown. Timeless. Understated. Exquisite.
And then, tucked into the corner, wrapped in a thin paper—
A single red rose.
Not plastic. Not perfumed. Real. Fresh. Fragrant.
Bella stared at it, stunned. She hadn't mentioned her love for roses to anyone, not even Luisa.
How did he know?
She held it gently, fingers trembling slightly. It wasn't just the gift. It was the thought.
She smiled.
Last night she'd gone to bed worried about what to wear to the party, how to show up next to a man like Davos without feeling small.
He'd already handled it. Quietly. Without asking. Without show.
And that did something to her.
She exhaled softly and placed the rose in a cup of water by her bedside. Then, she slipped into her robe and headed down the hallway, following the scent of something warm and delicious.
---
Dining Room – 8:58 a.m.
Davos was already seated at the far end of the long table, his head slightly tilted down as he read something on his phone.
The morning light cut across the room in golden slants, catching the dark silk of his shirt, the clean lines of his face. He looked like he belonged there—unchallenged, unbothered, unreachable.
But when Bella stepped into the room, his eyes lifted.
One glance.
That was all.
But it rooted her where she stood.
"You're on time," he said simply, placing his phone down.
Bella smiled and stepped forward, quietly pulling out a chair.
"I got the package."
He nodded.
"It's... beautiful. Everything. Thank you."
His gaze remained unreadable, but there was something softer at the edges—something she couldn't name yet.
"It's just a dress," he said calmly.
Bella raised a brow, tilting her head slightly.
"And the rose?"
For a brief moment, his lips twitched—half amusement, half something else.
"That too."
Bella looked down at the table for a moment, then back at him.
"Thank you… for all of it. The dress, the necklace… even the rose. It's so expensive. I wasn't expecting any of that."
Davos didn't miss a beat. He reached for his coffee cup and spoke without looking at her.
"You're my wife now."
A pause. Then, with quiet finality—
"You should get used to it."
Bella's lips parted slightly, caught off guard by how casually he said it—yet how heavy it landed in her chest.
You're my wife now.
Not a role. Not a contract. Not a label.
He said it like a fact. Like a status she had already claimed.
She let out a soft breath, unsure how to respond.
The silence between them wasn't awkward. It was… charged. Something deeper swirled beneath his calm exterior, and she could feel it, even if he'd never say it out loud.
"I didn't even know what to expect walking into this," she admitted, picking at the edge of her napkin. "I thought maybe you'd just ignore me or throw me into a guest room and forget about me until the month ended."
Davos glanced at her again, then returned his gaze to the window.
"I don't make a habit of ignoring things I choose."
Her heartbeat skidded slightly. She almost asked him what he meant, but something in his tone told her to let it rest.
Instead, she reached for her glass of orange juice, fingers still tingling faintly from how close they'd stood last night—how he'd held her hand like it mattered.
He didn't speak again until they were halfway through breakfast.
"Tonight will be… formal," he said. "Marchesi's events are high profile. There will be cameras. Gossip. People who assume they know everything."
Bella looked up from her plate, the tension creeping back into her spine.
"And what do you want them to assume?"
Davos's eyes met hers—long, unreadable, quiet.
"That you belong beside me."
Bella swallowed hard. His words weren't sweet, but they were firm. Final. The kind that left no room for doubt.
She nodded slowly.
"Then I'll be ready."
A pause.
"Good," he replied, lifting his cup again.
No praise. No smile. Just that subtle, unreadable gaze that lingered a little too long.
And in that moment, Bella realized something:
He wasn't the type of man to flatter.
If Davos DeLaney said she belonged beside him…
He meant it.