Chapter 183

Samuel's gaze was locked onto Layla's, a faint smile playing on his lips. He savored his wine, his demeanor teasing. "You'll have to figure that out," he said, his voice laced with intrigue.

Layla's brows furrowed in confusion. "Not bright enough? Is that because you're just too smart? I mean, you might be a genius, but I'm not far behind," she retorted, her tone laced with playful defiance.

"Too short? I know I'm not a giant, but with heels, I hit 5'7". Cute flats or killer heels, it's the perfect mix, right?" she continued, her voice trailing off as she mused aloud. She spent a considerable amount of time pondering over what Samuel might or might not have thought of her. Samuel could only watch, a mix of amusement and disbelief etched on his face, as he wondered what was going on in her mind.

"Your skills are just average," he interjected, halting her rambling.

Layla was taken aback, her cheeks flushing a deep red. "Hey, no obscenities, okay?" she admonished, glancing nervously at the nearby pianist.

"I'm serious. Your kissing has gotten better, but on the mattress... Well, that needs some work," he continued, his tone serious.

Layla shot him a glare, her embarrassment morphing into a scowl. "Who do you think you are, a seasoned pro?" she retorted.

"You're my one and only passenger. Seasoned pro? We're both greenhorns here, which means we need to practice diligently together to improve," he replied, his tone gentle.

"Stop, that's enough," she cut him off, her voice firm.

Samuel nodded in agreement. "Right, some things are better done than said."

Eva, who had been observing the exchange, struggled to suppress her laughter at Samuel's backhanded compliment. Old men can indeed be terrifying, she mused.

After a romantic candlelit dinner, Samuel rose from his seat and extended his hand to Layla. She glanced at his outstretched palm and teased, "Playing the romantic now, are you?" With a soft chuckle, she placed her hand in his, her other hand resting on his shoulder. With one arm around her waist, Samuel led her onto the dance floor, where they began to waltz with graceful elegance.

A petite woman, a tall man. A black suit, a white cocktail dress. Their dance was captivating, painting a beautiful picture. Every step Layla took felt like walking on clouds. She was like a fairytale princess, dancing in a castle with her very own prince. As the final note of the song faded, Layla was flushed with exhaustion, but her eyes shone with an extraordinary brightness, like an adorable bunny caught in a meadow.

Samuel led her to stand by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Suddenly, a loud "boom" echoed through the air, and a fireworks display burst into existence, illuminating the entire night sky. "Wow! Fireworks!" Layla exclaimed in wonder. People on the street below stopped in their tracks, pulling out their cell phones to capture the moment. But Layla, standing on the top floor, had the fireworks blooming right before her very eyes, reds, blues, greens, dazzling and seemingly within reach.

Samuel wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chin resting lightly on the crown of her head. "I thought about choosing a different restaurant, but this one has the best view of the fireworks," he confessed. "Do you like it?" he asked softly.

"I love it, I love it," Layla nodded vigorously, her gaze still fixed on the spectacle before her. What girl doesn't adore fireworks? Especially a display set off just for her. It was a surprise, a thrill, like something out of a dream.

"Thank you for everything you've prepared for me," Layla said, her voice choked with emotion. She would always remember this scene, etched deeply into her memory.

Suddenly, the night sky opened up with hearts, followed by a fleet of drones that arranged themselves to spell out "marry me."

Layla's eyes widened in shock; she pressed closer to the window, straining to see clearer.

Marry me. She wasn't seeing things. Turning around, she found Samuel on one knee, a ring in his hand, his rich, strong voice filling the air. "Layla, will you marry me?"

Tears streamed down Layla's cheeks. She clutched at her lips, overwhelmed. She never imagined that he would propose. Such an unexpected joy. She was rendered speechless with emotion. "Before I met you, marriage had never crossed my mind. After meeting you, I couldn't imagine it with anyone else. Thank you for making me the happiest man alive. Please give me the chance to cherish and adore you for a lifetime, and I promise to make you the happiest woman in the world. I love you."

Her tears flowed freely, a beautiful mess. What a fool she was, crying during the happiest moment of her life. Silly girl. Layla was desperate to stop crying, but the more she tried, the stronger the tears flowed-she felt so helpless.

"I...," her throat was tight, words failed her, but she kept nodding frantically. Yes, she would, a thousand times, a million times, yes.

Samuel smiled, took her hand, and slowly slid the diamond ring onto her finger. It was a promise for a lifetime. Everything had fallen into place. She was now his fiancée, and soon, she would be his bride.

At the thought, Samuel's heart was filled with peace, as if it was brimming with happiness. Before, he was accustomed to solitude, never expecting to feel love, but now, he yearned to have her by his side. No amount of time would ever be enough-not ten years, not twenty. It had to be a lifetime, every single day of it. It was she who thawed the cold vengeance coursing through his veins, who made him truly human. With her, he laughed, he felt joy, and he dared to dream of a future.

...

Colors danced on the car window reflection. Anthony glanced up, catching sight of a spectacular fireworks display, lighting up the night sky with breathtaking splendor.

Marry me.

Someone was proposing.

Men only went to such lengths for the women they love. The girl that was being asked, she was cherished and fortunate.

Layla...would she enjoy a fireworks proposal? Could such a day be in their future? Anthony chuckled at the thought; perhaps he was getting ahead of himself. But picturing it, he couldn't help but feel a surge of hope.

Right then, Brenda's call came through. "Almost home?" she asked.

"Mm-hmm, heading back now," Anthony replied, his eyes shimmering with mirth.

"Your meeting with Miss Gabriel's is set for tomorrow night..."

"Sorry, I have to cancel," Anthony's gaze was resolute. "I...I've already found someone I like."

...

The Eilish family.

"The woman you like?" Brenda was surprised, quickly pressing for details. "Who is she?"

"You know her."

"I do? Who?"

"Once I win her heart, I'll introduce her to you properly."

"Alright, I look forward to it. In that case, I'll handle Gabriel's situation for you." Brenda ended the call, her heart aflutter with anticipation and curiosity.

"Brenda."

"Nora's back. She's got some news," Brenda said with a radiant smile, approaching her. "Your brother asked me to call off the matchmaking with Gabriel's-he's found a girl he likes."

"Mm," Nora Eilish responded with a muted smile, though her spirit was notably dim. Her headache had been relentless since last night, and even painkillers didn't seem to work. She couldn't even manage her work at the hospital.

"Are you okay? You look pale," Brenda asked with concern. "My head hurts."

Brenda immediately had the maid prepare a herbal tea for headaches. She herself often suffered from migraines and had gotten a good recipe from a naturopath.

"All these years, this is the first time your brother's been in love. I'm so curious. I bet she's the kind of girl who's gentle, gracious, well-read... the epitome of sweet and sensible," Brenda mused with eagerness.