Chapter Twenty-Eight — Pretty Girl, Will You?
Two weeks.
Two weeks since the scandal. Two weeks since Axel showed up at my apartment, arms around me, whispered pretty girls soft and steady, reminding me that no matter what the world said, he was mine.
And now here we were.
It was a quiet evening, apartment dim except for the soft glow of fairy lights I'd strung up for some semblance of calm. I sat cross-legged on the couch, ice cream long gone, nerves fluttering in my stomach like butterflies on fire.
He appeared from the hallway, dark eyes scanning me with that look — the one that made my heart stop and skip at the same time. Hands behind his back, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Pretty girl," he said, voice low and teasing. "Do you trust me?"
I arched an eyebrow. "Depends. Is this another viral TikTok trick?"
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No tricks tonight. Just… you, me, and a very important question."
Before I could react, he dropped to one knee.
My stomach plummeted. "Axel—what—"
"Pretty girl," he began, voice trembling with just enough emotion to make me melt, "I've spent my life in the spotlight, watched every move, every headline, every viral moment. But nothing… nothing compares to being with you. You're mine. I'm yours. And I can't imagine another day without you by my side. Will you… be my wife?"
Time slowed. My heart raced. My chest ached with the impossible weight of love and disbelief.
"I…" I swallowed, tears pricking my eyes. "Yes. Yes, of course I will."
He slipped the ring onto my finger — delicate, sparkling, perfect — and the world melted away. I could feel the heat of his hands on mine, the softness of his gaze, the utter certainty that this was ours, real and untouchable by headlines, scandals, or viral chaos.
"I love you, pretty girl," he whispered, brushing a stray strand of midnight-blue hair from my face. "And Axel Reeve? From my life, my world… you're mine. Always."
I laughed through tears, leaning into him. "You're infuriating. I love you too."
Two weeks later, we walked into the gala together. Cameras flashing, reporters murmuring, fans screaming. My hand instinctively went to my finger — the ring gleaming under the lights. The headlines would explode in minutes, I knew.
Axel leaned closer as we posed, whispering, "Pretty girl, can you believe how much chaos we just caused?"
I smiled, heart full. "It's nothing new."
He smirked. Then, in that perfect voice that would send TikTok into a frenzy, he leaned down slightly and said:
"I love you. But Axel Reeve from your feed? That guy? He's got nothing on me. Pretty girl… I'm the real deal."
The photographers went wild, and I knew the clips would be everywhere by morning. TikToks, edits, memes, trending hashtags — the internet had found its next obsession.
I laughed, pressing my head to his chest. "You're impossible."
"Exactly," he said, lips brushing my hair, "and that's why you love me."
And in that moment, surrounded by flashing lights and the chaos of fame, I realized it didn't matter what the world thought.
I was engaged. To him.
And nothing — not viral edits, tabloids, or past exes — could take that away.