Page 121 of Safe Place

“Five months ago,” Micah begins, “I didn’t even know your name. Then all it took was some guy bothering you while you were working, for me to step in. I don’t know what came over me—I didn’t even know you. But I wanted to drive you to your interview. And you were right—I waited for you to be done. I played chauffeur to a girl I had just met.”

He smiles, but there’s something fierce behind it. “And I think I knew even then—on that very first day—that you were meant to be mine.”

My chest tightens.

“And now,” he continues, eyes locked on mine. “I’ll do whatever is humanly possible to keep you safe.” His voice lowers, softer now. “Five months ago, I didn’t even know your name. But now, you’re written into every version of my future.”

He takes a breath, almost like he needs to steady himself. “I know this is fast. I know you might be scared. You might be wondering what happens if things go wrong? What if you lose everything again?”

I feel the sting in my throat, because—yeah. I won’t admit it to him, but that exact thought lives in the back of my mind.

“But here’s the thing,” he says. “I thought about this. Luke’s right. The best way to keep you safe—truly safe—is to make sure no one, not even my father, can touch you.”

He pauses, then smiles crookedly. “And no one, especially him, messes with a Vale.”

“So become one,” he says gently. “Be mine, Sophie. Marry me.”

My breath catches.

He holds up a small velvet box—simple on the outside, but inside, the ring catches the light like it was dipped in starlight. It’s bold, brilliant, and impossible to ignore—just like the way I love him.

“No prenup. What’s mine is yours. Legally. All of it. You’ll never have to worry about housing, or scholarships, or anything my father tries to dangle over your head.”

Then, with a spark of that signature Micah grin, “And if you ever leave me, you get half my money. I’m aware I’m making a very bad deal here.”

A teary laugh escapes me.

His thumb brushes my cheek.

“But there’s a small catch,” he says, voice quieter now. “If you say yes—and I'm hoping to God you do—it can't be the big wedding. Not yet, anyways.”

I search his face, and I can see that there’s something guarded in his expression. “Is everything okay?”

He's quiet for a moment, like he's choosing his words carefully. “My father—the way he sees things, marriage is a business arrangement. An alliance. A deal. It has nothing to do with love and everything to do with what benefits the Vale name.” His jaw tightens. “I want nothing to do with that. I never have. But men like him don't have a line they won't cross to get what they want. And now that he knows about you—“ he pauses, mouth curving slightly, “—which, to be fair, is entirely my own fault. Apparently I wasn't exactly subtle about being completely obsessed with you last semester.”

I let out a breath that's almost a laugh.

“But that means he's been watching,” he continues, voice settling back into something more serious. “And I can't let him use you to get to me, Sophie. I won't.”

“What does that mean?” I ask softly.

“It means he will find ways to make your life difficult if he thinks you're an obstacle. Your scholarship. Your housing. Your future. He's already made threats.” His eyes don't waver from mine. “But a wife is different. He won't touch my wife—a Vale. Even he has enough respect for that boundary. Leonard Vale would never hurt another Vale.”

The weight of it settles over me slowly.

“Micah.” My voice comes out smaller than I want it to. “I don't want to come between you and your father. I don't want to be the reason things get worse between you two, or cause problems for your family, or⁠⁠—“

“Hey.” His hands tighten gently around my face. “Look at me.”

I do.

“You are not a problem to be managed. You are not something I need to protect my family from.” His voice is steady, certain. “If anything, I need to protect you from him. And I know how to do that. I just need you to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” I whisper. “I just—what if this makes things harder for you?”

He almost smiles. “Let me worry about that. That's my job.” His thumb traces along my cheekbone. “I promise you a real wedding. The dress, the flowers, all of it. Whenever you're ready, however you want it. But I need you safe first. I need this first, and I need to know you're mine in every way that counts—legally, completely, for good, and as soon as possible.”

He searches my eyes.