Sophie smiled graciously as the last guests trickled out of the dining room, each pausing to thank her, compliment her, or snap a final photo of the evening. Her cheeks ached from smiling, and her heart was still racing, not from nerves, but from the lingering surge of adrenaline and joy.
As the restaurant doors finally closed behind the last guest, she let out a long breath. She’d done it. She’d finally stepped out of Tito’s shadow and into the light.
“Congratulations.” Cassia gave her a quick hug, then turned to marshal the kitchen staff, already deep in post-service clean-up.
“I just need a minute,” Sophie murmured, mostly to herself, and slipped toward the open terrace, the pull of the quiet night stronger than anything else.
Sophie stepped onto the terrace, the cool night air a welcome relief after the heat of the kitchen and the warmth of congratulations that had followed her throughout the evening.
The dinner service had ended triumphantly, each course received with genuine appreciation that far exceeded her cautious hopes.
Nero followed close behind. Even after hours of hosting, his three-piece suit remained immaculate, not a crease out of place.
“It was perfect,” he said quietly, coming to stand beside her at the stone balustrade. “Every dish, every presentation. You were magnificent.”
Sophie smiled, her fingers instinctively finding the ruby necklace at her throat. A constant reminder of Nero’s faith in her.
“I still can’t quite believe it happened,” she admitted, gazing out at the rows of grapevines stretching into the darkness. “Standing up to Tito, the way everyone rallied around me...it feels like a dream.”
The memory of Tito’s humiliation and hasty retreat had already begun to lose its sharp edges, softening into something that felt remarkably like closure. His power over her was gone, dissolved in the moment she’d found her voice and claimed her work as her own.
“Not a dream,” Nero corrected gently. “Simply the truth asserting itself at last.”
Sophie nodded, letting her gaze drift upward to where stars pierced the velvet darkness of the night sky.
Sophie nodded, letting her gaze drift upward to where stars pierced the velvet darkness of the night sky.
Behind them, in the restaurant, she could hear the distant sounds of staff clearing tables, occasional laughter, and conversation drifting through the open doors.
“Chef Marco said three different diners asked if this could become a regular event,” Sophie said, still slightly awed by the reception her food had received. “And Cassia mentioned reservation inquiries for future pop-ups are already coming in.”
Nero’s hand found hers on the balustrade, his fingers warm and steady against her skin. “Talent always shines through.”
She turned toward him, struck once again by how thoroughly he believed in her. Not with blind faith, but with a clear-eyed appreciation of her abilities that had helped her reclaim belief in herself.
Sophie rubbed her thumb over the pendant absently, the cool gold grounding her. She hadn’t just cooked tonight. She’d told a story. Shared a piece of herself with every plate.
For so long, she’d worried she couldn’t do it without Tito’s platform, without someone else’s approval. Tonight had changed that. She’d seen it in the diners’ faces, heard it in their applause.
She was no longer someone’s plus-one in the kitchen. She was the main event.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said softly. “Without this.” Her fingers brushed the necklace again, the gesture now so familiar it had become almost unconscious.
“You would have found your way eventually,” Nero replied. “Though I’m profoundly grateful our paths crossed when they did.”
They stood in comfortable silence, shoulders nearly touching as they gazed out over the sleeping vineyard.
Sophie could feel the last remnants of tension draining from her body, replaced by a deep contentment that seemed to flow outward from her core.
For so long, she had defined herself through Tito’s lens, measuring her worth against his approval.
Now, standing in the cool night air with the taste of her own success still fresh, that version of herself seemed like a stranger.
A gentle breeze stirred the vines below, carrying the scent of earth and ripening grapes. Sophie closed her eyes briefly, committing this moment to memory.
When she opened her eyes again, she noticed a subtle change in Nero’s demeanor. He looked tense. His breathing was ragged.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, turning to face him fully.
“Yes,” he said, though his voice carried an unusual note of...was it nervousness? That seemed impossible for Nero, who approached every situation with such calm certainty. “Everything is more than all right.”
Something in his tone made Sophie’s heart beat faster. She watched as Nero shifted slightly, his hand moving toward the pocket of his waistcoat. There was a barely perceptible tremor in his fingers that both surprised and intrigued her.
Sophie opened her mouth, uncertain what to say. Perhaps something about how surreal the night had been…
“Sophie,” he began, then paused, seeming to collect himself. Then he went on. “These past few days have been the most extraordinary of my life.”
“For me as well,” she replied, her throat tightening as emotions threatened to overwhelm her.
Nero’s hand emerged from his pocket, holding a small velvet box, midnight blue, against his palm.
Sophie’s eyes widened as she recognized it…
similar to the one that had held her necklace, but smaller, more compact.
Her heart seemed to pause mid-beat, then resume at double speed as he dropped to one knee.
“I had planned this differently,” Nero admitted as he looked up at her. “A quiet evening at The Lookout, perhaps, or a walk through the forest clearing where I first revealed my true nature to you.”
Her lips parted in a soft breath. That memory, of the clearing, the way he had shifted before her, vulnerable and magnificent, was etched into her soul.
His hand trembled slightly as he opened the box, revealing a ring nestled against dark satin. Sophie gasped softly as lantern light caught the stone. A ruby that matched her necklace perfectly.
“But watching you tonight, your courage, your talent, your grace in triumph, I find I can wait no longer.” His eyes held hers, dark and sincere in the gentle light.
“Sophie Truro, you have accepted every part of me, human and bear alike. You have brought warmth and purpose to my life in ways I never imagined possible.”
Sophie fought to hold back her tears. Tears of joy. Tears of love.
“I know our beginning was unconventional,” he said, his lips curving into a small smile. “But I know with absolute certainty that you are my mate, my heart, my home.” He took a deep breath, his voice steadying. “Sophie, may I ask you something important?”
She nodded, unable to form words past the emotion closing her throat.
“Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
The question hung in the air between them, simple and profound and perfect in its sincerity.
For a moment, she could only look at him, this extraordinary man who had appeared in her life at precisely the moment she needed him most. She thought of their chaotic first meeting—Nero stumbling at her feet with a ring box, a collision that had seemed like a mere accident but now felt like destiny.
She remembered his patient kindness when she’d arrived at The Lookout, broken and doubtful after Tito’s betrayal.
The courage it had taken for him to reveal his true nature to her in the forest clearing, trusting her with a secret that defied all logic.
How far she had come since then. From a woman who had defined herself through another’s eyes to someone who stood on her own strength. From someone who feared rejection to a woman who had found acceptance, not just from Nero, but from herself.
“Yes,” she whispered, the word barely audible at first, then stronger as she repeated it. “Yes, I will.”
“You will?” he asked, as if he could not believe his ears.
Sophie nodded, her own smile widening to match his. “I will.”
Nero slipped the ring onto her finger with deliberate care, his eyes never leaving hers. “They were always meant to be worn together,” Nero said softly, watching as she admired the ring. “I designed them as a set, though I hadn’t dared hope you would accept both so soon.”
“They’re perfect together,” she said, knowing he would understand she meant more than just the jewelry.
Nero stepped closer, closing the small distance between them. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “My mate,” he murmured. “My heart.”
“My love,” Sophie replied.
And what a perfect love they shared. It flowed like a river, from their heart to her and from her heart to theirs.