Page 63 of Her Filthy Cold Billionaire Boss

Tears streamed down my face. I nodded, unable to speak.

“Yes,” I whispered.

The room erupted. Gram whooped and began taking credit to my father, my mother crying softly, Ruby shrieking, my father raising both hands like he’d just scored the game-winning goal.

Gareth slid the heavy ring on my finger, then stood and pulled me into a hug that felt like coming home.

We stood there, surrounded by chaos and love and the smell of cinnamon, and I knew, in that moment, that I could survive anything.

Even happiness.

Later, much later, after the cake and the phone calls and the awkward but sincere group hug with my parents, I found myself outside, alone on the porch, looking at the sky.

Gareth joined me, arms wrapped around my waist, chin on my shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded. “Better than okay.”

He kissed my cheek, gentle. “I meant what I said. I’ll try, with my family. If you want. And I really am sorry for putting you in that position. I was an asshole.”

I leaned into him, content. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

He squeezed me, then whispered, “I love you.”

I smiled, eyes closed, letting it sink in.

“I love you, too,” I said, and meant it.

The future wasn’t neat. It wasn’t perfect. But it was ours.

And for the first time in a very long time, I was excited to see what tomorrow would bring.

I had hope. A hope I’d thought long since lost.

And it was all his fault in the best possible way.

Epilogue

Eden

It was almost exactly two years to the day since I’d shown up at Wolfe Manor with a suitcase full of cheap business clothing and a head full of disaster.

Now I owned the heart of a man who made every day feel like perfection, and, most terrifying of all, a permanent “plus one” status to every family event, gala, and holiday awkwardness for the foreseeable future. I’d gone from temp to tenured, not just in my job, but in the Wolfe family.

Today was a milestone. The first time our parents (and Ruby) were present in the house at the same time, curious, kind, and, so far, not on fire. It was a fragile peace, but I was taking the win.

The official pretext was a pre-wedding planning session. In reality, it was a quiet, family event where we all managed to find some common ground and a way to be part of each other’s lives.

The kitchen was a war zone. Maribel, still reigning queen of the estate, had been up since four, barking orders in three languages and terrorizing the last batch of temporary waitstaff with tales of previous new hires who had not survived past their first breakfast. She greeted me with a slap on the back and a lecture about how she told me so and a wink.

After I made my escape back to the dining space, I took my seat and smiled at Ruby, who was beaming at me.

Gareth’s parents spoke quietly at one end of the table, his mother in pearls and pastel, his father in a suit that screamed generational trauma. My parents were next to me, Dad in a sweater-vest, whispering dad jokes to me, and Mom in a shirt with daisies that seemed to multiply the longer you looked at it. My grandmother, as indestructible as always, was mid-table, holding a Bloody Mary and the attention of Ruby whose eyes were shining as she listened.

I poured myself a coffee, Gareth’s hand finding my thigh as I sat. His hair was longer now, a little softer at the edges, but the suit was still flawless and the jawline still capable of slicing a baguette. He looked up, caught my eye, and almost, almost, smiled. I stuck out my tongue and was rewarded with the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Darling,” Mom said, patting my shoulder. “Your father just tried to explain cryptocurrency to Gareth’s father. I think we’re all on a list now.”