Chapter 14 - Sweet Citrus and Cleared NamesSix months later.
Spring had returned to New York City. The cherry blossoms in Central Park burst into brilliant clouds of pink and white, while the warm breezes off the Atlantic brought new life to the avenues below.
At the Blackwood Hudson Valley estate—a magnificent historic manor house overlooking the river—hundreds of guests had gathered on the manicured south lawn.
There were no corrupt city councilmen. No calculating underbosses checking their sidearms beneath tailored jackets.
Instead, the lawn was filled with laughter, vibrant music, and the people who truly mattered:
My younger brother, fully recovered from his illness thanks to the medical treatments Damian had arranged, was running across the grass with Gabriel’s children.
The kitchen staff and pastry apprentices from my newly opened culinary institute were laughing around the buffet tables.
And displayed prominently on a marble pedestal beside the grand pavilion was a framed portrait of Alyssa Blackwood, her smile radiant and full of life, decorated with fresh white lilies and fragrant yellow lemon blossoms.
Beneath the portrait was an engraved brass plaque reading:
ALYSSA BLACKWOOD — HER COURAGE LIT THE DARKNESS, HER TRUTH SET US FREE.
I stood beside the pavilion, wearing a breathtaking custom gown of ivory silk lace with a sweeping train that brushed against the fresh green grass.
The forty-carat sapphire necklace rested gracefully against my collarbones, catching the brilliant afternoon sunlight in dazzling flashes of azure fire.
Footsteps approached from behind.
I turned to see Damian walking toward me.
He was dressed in an immaculate black tuxedo with a white calla lily pinned to his lapel. His gray eyes, once cold and guarded, were filled with a profound, radiant peace that made my heart overflow with joy.
He stopped in front of me, taking both of my hands into his.
“You take my breath away, Maya,” he murmured, his voice rich and deep with love.
“You don't look so bad yourself, Don Blackwood,” I teased softly, my eyes dancing with happiness.
He smiled—a wide, breathtaking smile that lit up his handsome face—and pulled me gently against his chest.
“Are you ready to make this official, my love?” he whispered against my ear.
May you like
I looked out over the sunlit valley, feeling the warmth of the spring breeze, the laughter of our family, and the unshakable foundation of love and honor we had built together from the ashes of the past.
“I’ve been ready since the moment you asked who caramelized the ginger,” I whispered back with a radiant smile.
