— You don’t understand. You’re not what could make me lose everything, Keira. You’re everything I stand to gain.
The words leave me speechless. He sets the metal box on the table between us.
— I found something, he says, opening it. Something that could change a lot.
Inside are several objects.
— What is it? I ask, my historian’s curiosity briefly overpowering my emotional turmoil.
— The treasure we were looking for in the archives. Or at least… half of it.
He pulls out a small, worn leather journal.
— This belonged to Archibald McKenzie. The one who was in love with Elspeth McGregor.
My heart stumbles.
— Where did you find all this?
— In the underground passage. The one Hamish used to get into the distillery. I went back yesterday. I was looking for… I don’t know. A distraction, maybe. And I found this box hidden in an alcove.
He hands me the journal, and I take it carefully, aware that I’m holding an invaluable piece of family history.
— Read the last entry, he suggests.
I gently flip through the yellowed pages until I reach the final one, dated September 15th, 1897.
As I read, deciphering Archibald’s elegant handwriting, my throat tightens.
When I look up again, I’m shaken by words written so long ago. History repeating itself—generation after generation. The same impossible choices. The same cruel ultimatums.
— Archibald chose his inheritance, didn’t he? I ask, already knowing the answer. That’s why our families stayed enemies all this time.
Alistair nods, his gaze locked on mine.
— Yes. And he regretted it for the rest of his life. My mother told me he was never truly happy after that. He stayed single, devoted himself entirely to the distillery, trying to convince himself he’d made the right choice.
He reaches across the table and takes my hand. His touch sends a shiver up my arm.
— I won’t make the same mistake, Keira. I won’t choose my inheritance over love. I won’t let my father—or anyone else—decide my happiness.
— What do you mean? I ask, my voice tight.
— I mean that if I have to choose between the McKenzie distillery and you… I choose you. Without hesitation. I’m readyto walk away from my inheritance, my name—everything—if that’s the price of being with you.
His words steal the air from my lungs. It’s everything I’ve secretly longed to hear… and yet, it terrifies me.
— You can’t do that, I protest. The distillery has been in your family for generations. It’s your whole life.
— No. It might be my life’s work. But it’s not my life. These past few days have made one thing clear—none of it matters if I have no one to share it with. If the person I love isn’t by my side… what’s the point?
The wordlovelingers between us. It’s the first time he’s said it.
— You’d regret it, I whisper, fighting the hope rising inside me. Maybe not right away, but someday, you’d resent me for being the reason you lost everything.
— That’s a risk I’m willing to take.
— And what if I’m not ready to take that risk?
