2 - The Proposal

The morning sunlight spilled through the tall windows of the Bruno estate, touching every inch of the marble floor with warmth. The air smelled faintly of roses and coffee — a calm, promising day. Yet for Felicia Bruno, the calm was deceptive.

Her mother’s voice echoed from downstairs.

“Felicia, darling! We’re expecting guests this afternoon. Please, wear something elegant.”

Guests. Felicia knew exactly who her mother meant before she even asked. The De Lucas.

She stood before her mirror, staring at her reflection — the soft waves of her dark hair falling loosely over her shoulders, her pale pink dress simple yet graceful. There was nothing unusual about a visit; their families met often. But today felt different. There was a certain hush in her mother’s tone, a subtle sparkle in her father’s eyes at breakfast, as if the air carried a secret everyone knew but her.

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart flutter like the pages of an unread book.

By late afternoon, the De Luca family arrived. Two black cars pulled into the wide driveway — elegant, tinted, and unmistakably expensive. Marcello stepped out first, in a charcoal suit that fit his tall frame with quiet authority. His expression was unreadable, his eyes shielded behind dark sunglasses until he removed them, revealing a gaze sharp enough to silence the world.

Felicia, standing near the doorway, felt her breath catch for reasons she didn’t quite understand.

He wasn’t just handsome — he was intense. There was something about him that carried both comfort and danger, warmth and mystery.

Lucia De Luca embraced Luna Bruno like an old friend, while Damian and Alessandro exchanged handshakes that spoke of respect earned over years. Cecelia, all charm and mischief, winked at Felicia from across the room, whispering something to her mother that made Lucia chuckle.

The atmosphere was lively — yet beneath the laughter, there was tension. Purpose.

After a lavish meal filled with small talk, laughter, and shared stories, the two families moved to the sitting room. The elders’ voices lowered, and even Cecelia and Lorenzo grew quiet.

Damian De Luca leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees.

“Alessandro,” he began, “we’ve been friends for many years. Our families have stood beside each other in business, in joy, and in loyalty. We’ve always said that we’re more like brothers than friends.”

Alessandro nodded, smiling warmly. “That’s true. And I know there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t trust your family with.”

Damian’s gaze softened, flicking toward Marcello, then Felicia. “Then, perhaps it’s time we make that bond eternal. My wife and I have been thinking…”

Lucia smiled gently, finishing for him, “...what if our children joined our families together, not just as friends, but as one?”

The words hung in the air — clear, heavy, and inevitable.

Felicia’s breath stilled.

Marcello’s gaze shifted subtly toward her, unreadable but steady.

Luna Bruno looked at her daughter with affection, her eyes kind. “Felicia, cara, we would never decide something like this without you. You know the De Lucas — they’re family to us already. Damian and Lucia’s son is a good man, respected, loyal. And I believe he would cherish you.”

Felicia’s fingers tightened around the edge of her dress. She glanced at Marcello. His eyes met hers — calm, certain, patient. He didn’t look away.

There was no arrogance in him, no demand — just quiet certainty.

Her heart beat faster.

“I…” she began softly, “I trust you, Mamma. And… I know Marcello. He’s always been kind to our family.”

Luna reached for her hand. “You don’t have to answer now, sweetheart.”

But Felicia shook her head gently. “No, I know.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper. “If he agrees… then I’m willing.”

A soft silence followed her words, broken only by the faint sound of a clock ticking somewhere in the room.

Marcello straightened slightly. “I do,” he said simply, his voice deep and certain.

Every head turned toward him.

“I agree,” he continued. “Our families have shared trust for years, and I have no objection to building something from that. Marriage, for me, is a promise — not convenience. If she’s willing, then so am I.”

Lucia exhaled a quiet sigh of relief, her eyes shining. Luna blinked back tears. Even Cecelia smiled, whispering something teasing under her breath.

But Marcello wasn’t looking at anyone else. His gaze stayed fixed on Felicia — calm, unwavering, like he was silently promising something deeper than the words he’d spoken aloud.

She felt warmth rise to her cheeks under his gaze and looked down, her voice small but steady. “Then… it’s decided.”

Later that evening, as the elders toasted to the new bond, Felicia slipped out to the garden for air. The moon hung low, bathing the flowers in silver light. She needed to breathe — to process the enormity of what had just been decided.

She didn’t feel forced. Her parents had asked, not demanded. Marcello hadn’t pressed — he’d simply accepted. Yet everything still felt unreal, like a dream she hadn’t woken from.

She was tracing the edge of a rose petal when she heard footsteps behind her.

Marcello.

He stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, the moonlight outlining his sharp features. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, his tie loosened — yet he still carried that commanding calm.

“You shouldn’t be alone out here,” he said quietly.

Felicia turned, startled but not afraid. “It’s peaceful,” she murmured. “I just needed to think.”

He nodded, stepping closer until he stood beside her, both of them looking out at the garden. For a long while, neither spoke.

Then, in his low voice, he said, “They made it sound like business, but… I want you to know it isn’t that for me.”

She looked up at him, surprised.

“I agreed,” he continued, “because I don’t make promises I can’t keep. And I don’t take what isn’t willing.”

Her chest tightened at the sincerity in his tone.

“I’m not afraid,” she whispered. “It’s just… new. Everything feels so sudden.”

He turned his head slightly, studying her face. “It’s alright to be nervous, Little Petal.”

Her heart skipped. “You called me that before.”

He smiled faintly. “I did. It suits you.”

Felicia bit her lip, glancing away. “Why?”

“Because you’re soft,” he said simply, “but not fragile. You’ll bloom even in the shadows.”

She looked at him again, something warm unfurling in her chest.

And for the first time that night, she smiled — genuinely, without hesitation. “That’s… sweet of you to say.”

Marcello chuckled softly, a rare sound. “You’ll learn I’m not always sweet.”

“I’ll take my chances,” she whispered.

He turned then, meeting her gaze — eyes dark, steady, and yet so careful with her. “Then it’s settled. I’ll protect that smile. Always.”

Inside the house, their families laughed and planned the engagement celebration, but out there under the moonlight, something quiet began to form between them — a fragile thread that neither could name, but both already felt.

It wasn’t passion, not yet.

It wasn’t love, not fully.

It was something gentler — a promise that one day, their hearts would learn to move in the same rhythm.

And for Felicia, that thought was enough to make the world feel beautifully uncertain.

✨ End Of The Chapter ✨

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