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Christian’s gaze darkened with something deeper, more intense. “You could have,” he murmured. “But I wasn’t about to let you.”
My throat tightened.
He always said things like that—effortless declarations of loyalty, of love. He never asked for anything in return.
And I knew, now more than ever, that I didn’t want to face anything without him by my side.
I curled into him, letting my head rest against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me. His heartbeat was steady, strong. A silent promise.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt safe.
Later that day, Christian and I arrived at Amélie together.
I should have expected the swarm of reporters waiting outside, but the sheer size of the crowd still caught me off guard.
Cameras flashed, microphones were shoved in my direction, voices overlapping as questions were thrown my way.
“Scarlett, how do you feel about Victoria’s downfall?”
“What does this mean for Amélie’s future?”
“Mr. Valen, is it true you threatened legal action on Scarlett’s behalf?”
Christian tightened his grip on my waist, a silent reminder that he was right there with me. I took a steady breath, then stepped forward.
“I won’t lie—these past few months have been some of the hardest of my life,” I began, my voice steady despite the nerves coursing through me. “But the truth alwayscomes to light. Amélie was built on passion, dedication, and love for this industry. No amount of sabotage or lies could ever change that.”
A few reporters scribbled notes. Some nodded in approval.
I glanced up at Christian, and he gave me the smallest, encouraging nod.
I turned back to the cameras. “And I’d be lying if I said I did this alone. I owe so much to the people who stood by me—my staff, my friends, and most of all…” I looked at Christian again, my voice softening. “To the man who never once let me fall.”
There was a ripple of murmurs, camera flashes intensifying.
Christian smirked, but there was something proud in his eyes as he pulled me closer, speaking for the first time.
“Scarlett Lane is a force to be reckoned with,” he said smoothly. “I never doubted for a second that she’d come out on top.”
The reporters ate it up.
That night, Christian and I returned to his penthouse.
The adrenaline of the day had worn off, leaving exhaustion in its place. But more than that, there was something else—something lingering in the way Christian kept watching me.
I curled up on the couch with a glass of water, stretching my sore legs. “You’ve been quiet,” I noted.
Christian smirked. “Thinking.”
I arched a brow. “Dangerous.”
That earned me a chuckle, but then his expression shifted into something more serious. “You trust me, right?”
I frowned slightly. “Of course.”
He exhaled slowly, then reached for my hand. “Then trust me when I say I have something planned. A surprise.”
I narrowed my eyes playfully. “Christian, if this is some kind of business deal, I swear?—”