Chapter 9:
The Italian villa was breathtaking—perched high on a cliff, overlooking the shimmering Mediterranean.
It looked like something from a dream.
But Eden knew better.
Peace in their world was never real. Only a pause before the next explosion.
She stood on the balcony barefoot, the wind teasing her robe, watching the ocean roll like silk. The sun warmed her skin—but inside, she was cold.
Too much had happened.
Too much was still unspoken.
Cassian joined her minutes later, still wearing a sleep-creased shirt. He handed her a cup of coffee, wordless.
She took it, grateful for the warmth. Grateful that he was still here, even if he hadn't said "good morning."
The silence between them stretched like a wire pulled tight.
Then—
"They published the story," Cassian said.
Eden's hand froze mid-air. "What story?"
He pulled out his phone and handed it to her.
On the screen:
CASSIAN WOLFE'S FIANCÉE REVEALED: THE CINDERELLA SCANDAL OF EDEN BLAKE
Below it, photos—her face, his, the kiss at the gala.
Her stomach twisted.
"They know everything," she whispered.
Cassian's voice was calm. "They know what we let them know. But the real story? That's ours to write."
She looked up, heart pounding. "Is it real?"
His gaze didn't flinch. "It is to me."
Later that day, Eden wandered the villa.
Everything was beautiful. Old stone. Carved ceilings. Gold-trimmed elegance.
But it didn't feel like home.
In one quiet room with tall windows, she found a desk.
Cassian's desk.
She shouldn't have opened the notebook.
But she did.
Pages of finance notes, business diagrams...
And then her name.
Eden Blake – asset or liability?
The note was dated before the gala.
Before Paris.
Before everything.
Her hands trembled as she closed the book.
That night, she found him in the sitting room.
"Was I ever anything more than a strategy to you?" she asked, voice hard.
Cassian froze. "Where did you see that?"
"In your notebook," she replied. "Don't lie."
A long pause.
"In the beginning?" His voice was low. "Yes. You were a move. A calculated one. The right background, the right look. But then…"
He stepped closer.
"You mattered."
Eden crossed her arms. "You say a lot of pretty things, Cassian. That doesn't make them true."
He reached into his pocket and handed her an envelope.
Inside: one page.
Intent to Marry – Eden Blake.
Hand-signed. No NDAs. No expiration. No loopholes.
"Real," he said quietly.
She stared at it, stunned.
Then—
A pounding knock.
A guard burst into the room. "Mr. Wolfe—emergency at the lower gate."
Cassian didn't hesitate. "Secure Eden. Get her to the panic room."
The room was made of reinforced steel. Cold. Humming with generators and camera feeds.
Eden sat frozen, eyes fixed on the screen.
And then—she saw him.
Noah.
Her ex.
And beside him, a man she didn't recognize.
"Who is that?" she asked.
Cassian's jaw clenched. "Malik."
"Your cousin?"
"The only person who hates me more than my father does."
Eden went pale. "He's working with Noah?"
"It looks that way. This isn't just personal anymore," Cassian said. "It's a direct hit on the Wolfe legacy."
She swallowed hard. "Then we're in a war?"
Cassian's voice dropped. "No. We're already losing it."
By morning, the breach was over.
Malik and Noah had vanished.
But the damage?
It was done.
Cassian paced like a caged lion.
"They've crossed lines," he muttered. "I need to act."
Eden stood in the doorway. "Before you start a war, ask yourself one thing—what will be left when you win?"
He stopped.
Turned.
"I don't care about the empire."
"Then what do you care about?"
He crossed the space between them and cupped her face gently.
"You," he said. "I love you. Not because it's useful. Not because it's part of some plan. I love you because every time I try to walk away… I can't."
Tears filled Eden's eyes. "Then don't walk away."
He kissed her—slow, certain, unshakable.
And this time?
She kissed him back like she believed it.
That evening, another envelope arrived.
No threats.
No photos.
Just a silver ring.
Cassian stared at it, jaw tight. "He's daring me to propose."
Eden looked down at the ring resting in its velvet bed.
And whispered—
"Then make it real."