Chapter 9 - The House of Light
One year later.
The dark, forbidding atmosphere of the Beacon Hill mansion was completely gone.
The grand oak bookcase in my study remained, but the secret vault behind it had been converted into a bright, soundproof reading nook filled with children’s storybooks, soft floor cushions, and colorful oil paintings.
The heavy velvet drapes throughout the house had been replaced with sheer white linen that allowed the morning sunlight to flood every corridor.
Downstairs in the main garden, six-year-old Mia—now seven—was running across the green lawn, chasing a golden retriever puppy I had bought her for her birthday. Two-year-old Lily was waddling happily behind her, giggling as the puppy licked her cheeks.
I stood on the rear stone terrace, wearing a casual linen shirt, holding a mug of dark roast coffee.
A pair of soft hands wrapped around my waist from behind.
Grace rested her head against my shoulder, the warm scent of lavender and sunshine radiating from her skin. Her dark hair fell softly over her shoulders, her skin glowing with health and vibrant happiness.
"What are you thinking about?" Grace asked softly, turning her head to kiss my jawline.
I set my coffee mug on the balustrade and turned around, wrapping my arms gently around her waist, pulling her close against my chest.
"I was thinking about the night I caught a tiny six-year-old girl trying to push a giant vacuum cleaner at 1:47 in the morning," I said, a soft smile gracing my lips.
Grace laughed—a rich, beautiful sound that filled the quiet garden. "She thought she was saving our life."
"She did save it," I said truthfully, looking deep into Grace's eyes. "She saved mine, too."
For thirty-eight years, I had lived in a world of shadows, power, and cold isolation. I had believed that money and fear were the only things capable of protecting a man.
In the past year, as Grace and I rebuilt the Duca legacy into a legitimate international foundation funding children’s hospitals and legal aid for underprivileged families, I had learned the true meaning of strength.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a simple, elegant platinum band set with a flawless emerald—the color of Grace's eyes.
Grace gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as I took her right hand in mine.
"You already co-own this house, Grace Harper," I said softly, my voice filled with a deep, unwavering devotion. "Now I want you to co-own my heart for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?"
Tears of pure joy filled Grace’s eyes. She didn't hesitate for a single second.
"Yes, Roman," she whispered, leaning up on her tiptoes to press her lips against mine in a deep, passionate kiss. "Yes!"
Down on the lawn, Mia saw us and let out a triumphant squeal, dragging the puppy up the stone steps toward us.
"Mr. Duca! Is Mama going to stay forever now?" Mia shouted happily.
I knelt down on the stone terrace, opening my arms as Mia threw herself into my embrace, while Grace picked up little Lily and sat beside us in the morning sun.
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"Not just forever, Mia," I said, kissing her forehead gently as she rested her head on my shoulder. "We are family now."
The dark secret inside the wall was gone. The ghosts of the past were laid to rest. And the forbidden office was now a room filled with laughter, love, and the bright, unshakeable light of home.
