Chapter 5 - The Proposition
As the heavy oak doors clicked shut behind a sobbing Deline, the penthouse returned to its expensive, calculated silence.
Walter sat quietly by the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. With slow, deliberate movements of his thumb, he tapped out a final message on his tablet.
“The house is cleared of snakes. What happens now?”
Julian walked over to the old man, placing a respectful hand on the arm of the wheelchair. "Now, Mr. Bellamy, you and Simone are going to relocate permanently. My estate in Barrington has round-the-clock medical staff, secure grounds, and more than enough space for an archivist who needs quiet rooms to think."
Simone stood up from the desk, her heart skipping a beat. "Julian, we can't just move into your estate. We have our own apartment—well, my apartment."
"Your apartment lease was terminated this morning by the landlord, who happens to be one of my commercial holdings," Julian said smoothly, a faint, unapologetic smile touching his mouth. "And frankly, living in a drafty third-floor walk-up in Pilsen while your father requires specialized neurological care is highly inefficient."
Simone stared at him, exasperated. "Do you ever do anything without orchestrating it three steps in advance?"
"Only when I'm improvising," Julian replied, stepping closer to her.
The air between them shifted. The corporate tension, the mafia threats, the family betrayal—all of it faded away, leaving only the quiet, magnetic intensity of the space they shared.
Julian reached out, his fingers gently brushing against the edge of the white bandage on her right palm.
"When I stepped into that ballroom yesterday," Julian murmured, his voice losing its formal edge, becoming raw and direct, "I told Matteo I was protecting you. He asked me for how long."
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Simone swallowed hard, her green eyes locked onto his dark gaze. "And what did you tell him?"
"I didn't answer him then," Julian said softly. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, heavy velvet box. He didn't drop to one knee—that wasn't Julian’s style. Instead, he held her gaze, opening the lid to reveal a magnificent, emerald-cut diamond ring that caught the penthouse lights like a drop of captured starlight. "I'm answering him now. Permanently."
