Chapter 14 - The Pearls of Donna Isabella
That evening, Dominic arranged a private dinner for the two of us on the stone terrace overlooking the moonlit waters of Cape Corse.
The table was set with white linen, lit by flickering beeswax candles, surrounded by terracotta pots of blooming jasmine and dwarf orange trees.
Soft acoustic guitar music drifted from the salon, and two crystal flutes of vintage sparkling wine sat beside a bowl of fresh blood oranges and local goat cheeses.
Dominic was dressed in an immaculate black bespoke tuxedo, his dark eyes watching me approach with an intensity that made my heart race with intoxicating anticipation.
I wore a flowing ivory silk gown that cascaded around my feet, the orange blossom pendant resting against my collarbone.
After dinner, as we stood beside the stone balustrade watching the silver moonlight dance across the tranquil waves of the Mediterranean, Dominic reached into his breast pocket.
He pulled out an antique velvet jeweler’s box lined with midnight-blue silk.
He opened it.
Inside rested the legendary heirloom pearls of Donna Isabella Moreau—a breathtaking, triple-strand necklace of flawless South Sea pearls, secured by an intricate platinum clasp featuring a cushion-cut royal blue sapphire surrounded by rose-cut diamonds.
Dominic lifted the pearls, stepping behind me, draping the cool, lustrous gems around my throat, fastening the platinum clasp with gentle, steady fingers.
He turned me in his arms, his hands resting naturally on my hips.
He looked down at me, and for the first time since I had met the feared Iron Shadow, his eyes were wet with tears of raw, overwhelming devotion.
Dante dropped onto one knee upon the ancient flagstones of the terrace.
The ruler of the Mediterranean underworld looked up at the former pantry maid with his heart laid completely bare.
“Sylvie Laurent,” Dominic spoke, his deep voice trembling with an emotion so pure, so profound, that it shook my very soul.
“You walked into my life carrying a duster and left carrying the soul of my empire. You refused to bow to cruelty. You protected Uncle Tonio when everyone else turned their heads away. You gave me back my mother, you saved your sister, and you showed me what true loyalty and love look like.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a second velvet box, opening it to reveal a breathtaking, custom-designed engagement ring: a flawless, four-carat emerald-cut diamond set in platinum, flanked by two delicate orange blossoms sculpted from rose gold.
“Will you marry me, Sylvie? Will you be my wife, my partner, and the sovereign donna of the House of Moreau?”
Tears of boundless, radiant happiness poured down my cheeks.
I slipped out of my shoes, dropping to my knees on the warm stone beside him, throwing my arms around his broad neck, burying my face into his collar.
“Yes, Dominic!” I sobbed with all the joy in my heart. “Yes! A thousand times, yes!”
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Dominic slid the magnificent ring onto my finger—a flawless, perfect fit—and pulled me into a breathtaking, passionate kiss beneath the canopy of stars.
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