Chapter 11 - THE SILVER ROSE
He led me toward the back of the bakery, near the massive iron ovens where he had nearly died just days ago.
Standing in the shadows was a small, familiar object.
It was Eleanor’s wooden cane.
I frowned in confusion. “Why is your mother’s cane here?”
Antonio smiled gently, picking it up.
“When my father carved the rose into this handle fourteen years ago,” Antonio explained, his voice thick with emotion, “he didn't just install a panic button.”
He held the cane up to the light.
“He told me that if I ever found a woman who loved this family as much as my mother did, I would know where to find the ring.”
My breath caught in my throat.
Antonio twisted the silver handle of the cane.
There was a soft click, and the top of the handle popped off.
Inside the hollowed-out wood was a small, velvet box.
Antonio pulled it out, setting the cane aside.
He turned to me, his dark eyes filled with a love so profound, so absolute, it brought me to my knees.
He dropped to one knee right there on the polished floor of the bakery, opening the velvet box.
Inside was the most beautiful, vintage diamond ring I had ever seen. It sparkled in the candlelight, carrying the weight of a century of Caruso history.
“Grace Miller,” Antonio whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “You saved my mother’s dignity. You saved my sister’s life. You saved my soul.”
Tears spilled over my cheeks, my hands covering my mouth.
“I don't want to rule an empire without you,” Antonio said, looking up at me with raw vulnerability. “I don't want to spend a single day of the rest of my life without you by my side. Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I sobbed, dropping to my knees right in front of him, throwing my arms around his neck. “Yes, Antonio. I love you.”
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He laughed, a rich, booming sound that echoed off the bakery walls, holding me tightly against his chest.
He slipped the vintage diamond onto my finger, and it fit perfectly.
