Chapter Twenty: Forever Was the Deal (Finale)

The morning sun filtered through the cream-colored curtains of the master bedroom, casting a soft golden hue over Lia's sleeping face. Her lashes fluttered slightly as she stirred, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. Beside her, Damien lay awake, propped up on one elbow, watching her as though the sight of her sleeping peacefully was the rarest treasure he had ever possessed.

And in truth, it was.

For months, love had crept its way into their carefully constructed façade, planting roots in places neither expected. They had danced on a line between contract and chaos, but now, with the ink dry on real vows and the rings warm on their fingers, everything had shifted.

This was no longer a marriage of convenience.

This was home.

Lia stretched and blinked her eyes open, meeting Damien's gaze. "You're staring," she murmured sleepily, her voice still heavy with slumber.

"I'm admiring," he corrected with a smirk. "There's a difference."

Her eyes narrowed playfully. "Is that so?"

Damien leaned down, brushing a kiss across her forehead. "Mm-hmm. And I fully intend to spend the rest of our lives doing it."

Her heart fluttered. No pretense. No cameras. Just them.

She pulled the sheets up slightly and shifted to face him more fully. "So… this is what forever feels like?"

He nodded, voice quiet but resolute. "It's a start."

Later that morning, Gloria bustled into the kitchen, humming a cheerful tune. "Newlyweds or not," she said to no one in particular, "people still need breakfast."

By the time Lia and Damien descended the stairs hand in hand, the table was already set, pancakes stacked high, fresh fruit glistening under the morning light, and two mugs of coffee waiting patiently.

"You didn't have to do all this," Lia said warmly.

Gloria gave her a look. "Nonsense. It's your first real day as Mr. and Mrs. Cross. Might as well start it with a full stomach and a clean kitchen."

Damien chuckled. "That's Gloria-speak for 'don't touch anything until I say so.'"

She swatted a dish towel in his direction, and he laughed harder.

The small domesticity of it all, laughter, food, and a feeling of ease, felt worlds away from how they began.

When Lia glanced across the table at her husband, she saw not the CEO who once signed a contract to save his image, but the man who kissed her knuckles when she was anxious, who sat by her side through scandals and storms, who whispered 'I love you' like it was a promise etched into every breath.

Over the next few weeks, their lives settled into a rhythm that was both strange and beautiful.

Ethan dropped by more frequently now, usually under the guise of discussing business, though it was painfully obvious he just liked spending time around the newlyweds. "I've never seen you this soft," he teased Damien one afternoon while watching him tie Lia's apron for her.

"Call it growth," Damien replied with a shrug.

Ethan grinned. "Or love."

Damien didn't argue.

Mrs. Morgan was, of course, thrilled, more thrilled than any mother had a right to be. She had been skeptical of the arrangement at first, but now she claimed she'd "always known it would work out."

Lia rolled her eyes every time she said it, but in her heart, she was thankful her mother had stuck by her. When the media firestorm hit months ago, and when doubts threatened to drown her, it was her mother's voice that anchored her.

Now, with peace finally in sight, Lia felt like she could breathe.

Even Vanessa had disappeared from the picture, her last snide comment during the reception met with Damien's cool, unbothered silence. That moment was a turning point. A public display that left no doubts: Damien had chosen Lia, completely and utterly.

One evening, as spring settled over the city, Damien took Lia to the rooftop of their building. Twinkling lights were strung overhead, and a simple picnic blanket had been spread out beside two glasses of red wine.

Lia arched a brow. "This is suspiciously romantic."

"Just trying to earn husband points."

"Mm. You're already ten points behind for leaving your socks in the bathroom again."

Damien laughed. "I'll make it up to you."

They sat together, the skyline glowing around them, and for a moment, silence spoke more than words ever could. Then Damien reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

Her breath caught. "Damien..."

"No, no, not another ring," he chuckled. "You've got enough diamonds to sink a small boat."

He opened the box to reveal a delicate gold chain. Dangling from it was a charm shaped like a quill.

"A quill?"

He nodded. "Because you wrote our story, Lia. You changed the ending. You gave me a beginning I didn't know I needed."

She stared at him, eyes glassy. "That's… you really know how to make a girl cry, don't you?"

He grinned, slipping the chain around her neck. "Only if they're happy tears."

Later that night, curled up in bed, Lia whispered, "I used to think love was a risk I wasn't willing to take."

Damien ran his fingers through her hair, quiet for a beat. "And now?"

"Now I think the bigger risk would've been walking away from you."

He leaned in, kissed her forehead, then her nose, then finally her lips. "Good. Because I never planned on letting you go."

Their fingers intertwined under the sheets, hearts beating in synchrony.

Forever wasn't something they feared anymore.

Forever was the deal they were ready to keep.