The restaurant perched high above the city was a masterpiece of glass and light, suspended between stars and clouds. Every table glowed beneath warm candlelight while a piano played softly in the background. Beyond the windows stretched an endless view—mountain silhouettes melting into a glittering ocean of city lights below.
Noah Rolston had reserved the entire place.
He sat near the window, poised and confident, dressed in a dark suit that shimmered subtly beneath the chandelier's gold glow. His expression softened when Mirabelle entered beside her parents.
Gideon and Elara Terania, ever the picture of refinement, looked pleased by the setting. Mirabelle, however, seemed caught between radiance and unease. She wore a simple gown of pastel silk, her hair loosely tied back—but in that elegant simplicity, she seemed to glow brighter than anyone in the room.
Noah stood as they approached, greeting her parents warmly before turning to her. "You look beautiful," he said softly.
She blushed, eyes dropping to the floor. "Thank you."
Her heart had been betraying her lately—fluttering at his texts, stumbling at his compliments. He had been so gentle, so unexpectedly sweet, that part of her wondered if he was simply unwell. But every time her heart leapt, she forced herself to remember: He doesn't love you. He's just tolerating you. Still, when he guided her to her seat with a soft hand resting near the small of her back, she nearly forgot how to breathe.
Dinner began pleasantly enough. The waiter poured wine, laughter filled the air, and Gideon and Elara seemed delighted by Noah's thoughtfulness. They asked about EON's latest projects, his tours, and the growing success of his career.
"It's been busy," Noah admitted with a small smile. "But worth it. None of it would've been possible without your faith in me."
Gideon chuckled. "You've earned every bit of it, my boy."
Elara smiled approvingly. "You've made us proud, Noah. Truly."
Mirabelle felt herself relax. The conversation was warm, light, and almost ordinary—until Noah set down his glass and leaned forward, his tone steady and assured.
"I think it's time we hold an engagement party."
The words landed like a lightning strike.
Mirabelle froze, fork hovering in midair. Gideon blinked in surprise. Elara gaped at his words.
"I'm sorry?" Elara said carefully. "An engagement party?"
"Yes," Noah said, as though it were self-evident. "It's strange, isn't it? To be engaged for over a year and not make it official yet."
Silence blanketed the table.
Elara's gaze flicked to her husband. Gideon cleared his throat awkwardly. "Forgive me, son—but an engagement party for whom, exactly?"
"For me and Belle, of course," Noah said, his expression open and certain.
Mirabelle's pulse stumbled. "What?" she breathed.
Gideon stared at him. "Noah, I'm not sure I understand what you're saying."
Noah frowned slightly, confusion creasing his brow. "What do you mean?"
Elara leaned forward, her tone gentle. "Noah… what exactly do you mean by engagement? Who arranged it?"
He looked between them as if the question itself was absurd. "You did. When you agreed to sponsor EON. You said you wanted to tie me closer to the family, that Belle and I should look after each other."
Gideon's mouth fell open slightly. "Oh, Noah."
Elara reached across the table to hold his hand, her expression soft but alarmed. "We meant you were part of our family, dear—not that you were marrying into it."
Noah blinked, the words seeming to fall through him. "But… the sponsorship, the conditions—"
"There were no conditions," Gideon interrupted gently. "We supported you because we believed in you, not because we intended to arrange a marriage."
For a moment, Noah could only stare, the realization unfurling slowly in his eyes. His lips parted slightly. "…Oh."
Mirabelle's voice trembled. "You thought we were engaged this whole time?"
He looked at her, his confusion now laced with something more fragile. "Weren't we?" he asked softly.
She shook her head. "No, Noah."
His jaw tightened. Then what am I to you?
The question echoed painfully in his mind. Finally, it truly sank in—there was no promise between them, no bond and no shared future he could name. Whatever they had once been, whatever connection he thought still existed, had faded somewhere along the way without him noticing.
He had now built so much of his world around the idea of her—her voice, her steadiness, the memory of the girl who once followed him everywhere. And now, sitting there under the golden light, he realized he had nothing—no claim, no assurance, and no real reason to be sitting at this table at all.
It shouldn't have hurt the way it did, but it did. The distance between them—once invisible—felt like a chasm now, wide and unbridgeable.
But he couldn't accept that.
His gaze lingered on Mirabelle, on the soft curve of her lips and the way the light seemed to bend gently toward her—as if even the world itself conspired to adore her. She was lovely in every sense of the word: calm, radiant, impossibly perfect in her quiet grace. Something in his chest ached at the sight, sharp and resolute. He would not let that distance remain. Whatever it took, however long it required, he would find a way to bridge that chasm and make her his—truly, this time.
He turned sharply toward her Gideon and Elara, his tone clipped. "Then get us engaged now."
Gideon nearly choked on his wine. "I—what?"
Elara's eyes widened. "Noah—"
But he pressed on, his voice unwavering, the same determination that once built an empire shining in his eyes. "I'll make it official. I'll handle the press, draft the contracts, elevate the Terania name even higher. I'll make her the most celebrated woman in the country. I'll give her anything she wants. Just—agree to it."
Gideon and Elara exchanged stunned glances.
"You… still want an arranged engagement?" Elara asked quietly.
"Yes," he said firmly. "I want her. I'll do it properly this time."
Mirabelle swayed in her chair, the edges of her vision blurring. And before anyone could react, she fainted.
Noah caught her instantly, easing her gently into his arms. His entire expression softened as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"Belle," he murmured, his voice low and tender. "It's alright. I've got you."
Gideon and Elara sat frozen as he held their unconscious daughter as though she were something fragile and sacred.
"Do you… love her, Noah?" Gideon asked quietly.
"Yes." The answer came without hesitation. His gaze didn't waver. "She's everything."
Elara sighed, half in disbelief, half in reluctant affection. "What a mess."
Gideon gave a weary smile. "It is. But at least it's an honest one."
Elara clasped her hands gently. "Noah, we can't agree to anything arranged—not unless Mirabelle wants it. Everything we do is for her happiness."
Noah's eyes softened, but his tone was unwavering. "Then I'll make her want it," he said simply.
He looked down at Mirabelle's sleeping face, brushing her cheek with quiet reverence. "You'll see," he whispered. "You'll be mine again—the right way this time."
Gideon chuckled helplessly, and Elara, despite herself, smiled faintly.
"Well," Gideon said at last, raising his glass, "we may as well drink to determination."
Noah smiled faintly, holding Mirabelle close, his voice calm but resolute. "I'll make sure you're proud to call me your son-in-law too."
And beneath the candlelight, Gideon and Elara could only exchange a glance—half worried, half amused—as Noah cradled their daughter like she was the most precious thing in the world.