The restaurant glittered under the amber glow of chandeliers, a hundred tiny sparks bouncing off crystal glasses and polished silver. The skyline of Manhattan loomed beyond the towering glass windows, the city twinkling like a carpet of stars spread beneath their feet. The banner still hung boldly in the center of it all:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROSE.
Rose's chest ached as she stared at it, still overwhelmed by the sheer effort behind this night. Alejandro and his band of degenerates were buzzing with excitement, faces flushed with relief and joy, even though they had just seen her yesterday.
"Birthday girl!" Alejandro bellowed, striding over with arms open. His hug was suffocating, rib-cracking, the kind that said I thought I'd never see you again.
"Careful, you'll kill me before dessert," Rose muttered into his shoulder, her voice muffled.
"You're not going anywhere, Red," Alejandro said, squeezing tighter before finally letting her go.
Kile was next, already blotting his teary eyes with a napkin. "We missed you so much," he sobbed, his voice breaking as he pulled her into his embrace. "Do you know how worried I was? I thought—I thought—" His words dissolved into incoherent blubbering against her hair.
Rose laughed softly, patting his back. "You guys saw me yesterday, at Nikolai's place. And Kile, if you cry any harder, people are going to think I died. You already cried more than enough last night."
"You almost did," he wailed, pulling back dramatically.
Matt swooped in then, grinning ear to ear. "You've been gone way too long, Rose. I'm filing an official complaint. You're not allowed to scare us like that again."
"I'll try to put it on my to-do list," she teased, rolling her eyes.
From behind them, Nikolai stood slightly apart, his hands tucked into his pockets, gaze sharp as glass. He wasn't a man who blended into the background, but he wasn't the type to bask in chaos either. Yet Rose caught the faintest twitch of his lips when she looked his way—a smirk that seemed to say, I did this for you.
Her chest tightened.
---
The gifts began arriving soon after, stacked onto a long polished table near the wall.
Alejandro, dramatic as ever, handed her a box wrapped in red foil. "This one is from me," he announced with flair.
Rose arched a brow. "Should I be worried?"
"Yes," Nikolai muttered from across the room.
She tore open the wrapping and lifted the lid. Inside was a leather jacket, cropped and edgy, with "Little Red" stitched onto the back in bold embroidery.
Rose laughed, biting her lip. "Okay, this is actually kind of perfect."
Alejandro winked. "Now you'll look as badass as you are."
Kile's gift was a delicate charm bracelet, silver links glinting softly under the light. "Each charm represents something about you," he said, voice shaky. "This one's a flame—for your fire. And this one—" He pointed to a tiny rose-shaped charm. "Well, obvious."
Rose's throat tightened. She smiled, slipping it on, brushing her fingers over the charms. "It's beautiful, Kile. Thank you."
Matt's gift came in a sleek black box. Inside was a pair of noise-canceling headphones. "So you can drown out Alejandro when he gets too loud," he said smugly.
"Hey!" Alejandro barked.
Rose burst out laughing, holding the headphones up. "Best. Gift. Ever."
Even Alexei approached her, clearing his throat awkwardly before handing over a simple rectangular package. Inside was a first-edition book, its cover aged but preserved with care. Her eyes widened.
"Oww you are such a softie," she whispered, running her hand over the cover.
Alexei's scarred face softened just slightly. "Sometimes."
Her heart swelled.
---
The night unfurled in laughter, glasses clinking, and the warmth of voices blending with the city's hum outside. Plates of food came and went—rich pasta, seared steaks, platters of seafood—all luxurious, though Rose barely tasted any of it. Her senses were too focused on the people around her, on the way her chest loosened for the first time in years.
For once, she wasn't defined by fear. She wasn't just the orphan. Or Salvatore's possession. Or the girl who had been kidnapped. Tonight, she was simply… Rose.
Alejandro and Matt clinked glasses in a toast that was more shouting than speaking. "To our Rose! May she never scare the hell out of us again!"
"To Rose!" everyone echoed.
Rose lifted her glass, cheeks flushed, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.
---
Later, when the gifts were unwrapped and the food cleared, the music began. A low melody swirled through the restaurant, violins weaving with the soft thrum of a piano. Couples drifted to the floor, laughter mingling with the rhythm.
Rose stood near the edge, watching, her arms crossed.
And then—
A hand appeared in her line of sight. Large. Strong. Steady.
Nikolai.
"Dance with me," he said, his tone not quite a question.
Rose arched a brow. "You dance?"
"I do everything," he said simply.
Her lips twitched. "That sounds like a threat."
Still, she slid her hand into his. He guided her onto the floor, his other hand settling at her waist, drawing her close. She stiffened for only a moment before melting into his warmth, the silk of her dress brushing against his tailored suit.
They swayed gently, the world narrowing to just them. His hand was firm at her back, his presence towering, protective. She rested her palm against his chest, feeling the steady drum of his heart beneath.
"You look beautiful tonight," he murmured, finally saying the words she had cut off earlier.
"I told you," she said smugly. "I already know."
But her cheeks heated anyway.
The music swelled. Her pulse quickened. And then, without warning, his voice dropped low, rough, carrying weight heavier than any gift or gesture.
"I love you, Rose."
Her head snapped up, eyes wide.
He held her gaze, unwavering. "I've never said that to anyone. But I mean it. I love you."
The words punched through her chest, shattering everything she thought she knew about him. Nikolai. The man who had bought her. The man who could be cruel, terrifying, infuriating. And yet here he was, saying the one thing she never thought she'd hear.
Before she could even gather her breath, he pulled back slightly. His hand left her waist.
And then he sank down—onto one knee.
The room gasped. Alejandro choked on his drink.
Nikolai pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. He flipped it open to reveal a diamond ring so brilliant it seemed to catch every light in the room, scattering stars across the floor. Ridiculously expensive, obscene even, yet undeniably breathtaking.
Rose's heart stopped.
Nikolai looked up at her, his expression raw and unguarded in a way she had never seen before. His voice, though deep and commanding, was steady.
"Marry me, Rose."
The world tilted. The music blurred. The chatter, the city lights, the entire party faded to nothing. All that remained was him, kneeling before her with a diamond blazing in his hand, and the words she never thought anyone would ask her.
Her breath caught in her throat.