The jewelry box sat on Matteo's desk, small and velvet-lined, holding a secret that made his heart race every time he looked at it.
He opened it for the hundredth time that week, the ring catching the afternoon light streaming through his office window.
White gold, simple and elegant, with a single diamond that wasn't ostentatious but spoke of permanence. Quality. Forever.
The jeweler had understood immediately when Matteo described what he wanted. "Something that says 'I choose you.' Not because I have to. Not because someone arranged it. But because I can't imagine my life without you."
The old man had smiled, nodded, and three weeks later, this arrived.
Perfect.
Matteo lifted the ring from its cushion, holding it up to the light.
It was smaller than the ones they currently wore—those symbols of their arranged engagement, their business merger disguised as romance.
This was different. This was real.
He closed his eyes and imagined it.
