4

Instead of heading for the door, I head to the bar cart in the corner of the room. Pouring a glass of bourbon, I down it in one go, the burn in my throat matching the fire raging inside me. I set the glass down, gripping the edge of the cart as I stare out the window. The London skyline stretches before me, glittering and indifferent, and for once, I feel small—like all the power, all the control I usually have is slipping through my fingers.

This isn’t me. I don’t do guilt, or regret, or whatever the hell this mess of emotions is. I’m Damian Gunn. I take what I want, when I want it. And yet, here I am, sidelined, helpless to do a damn thing while Daisy-Belle deals with the aftermath of something I couldn’t stop.

Her face flashes in my mind again, unbidden—those pale blue eyes, the freckles dusting her nose, the fire in her spirit. Even when she’s furious, she’s captivating. And that only makes this whole situation harder to swallow.

I pour another glass of bourbon, this time sipping it slowly as I make my way to the balcony. The cool morning air hits my face as I step outside, and for a moment, I let it ground me. This isn’t over. I don’t care what Dexter says or what Daisy-Belle wants. She might not want me there now, but she’s not getting rid of me that easily. Whether she likes it or not, I’m going to be part of her life—for better or worse.

And as I stare out at the city, a new resolve hardens within me. Daisy-Belle might think she can keep me at arm’s length, but she doesn’t know me as well as she thinks. I’ve made up my mind. She’ll see me. She’ll feel me. She’ll know she’s not alone, no matter how much she pushes me away.

Because I don’t lose. Not when it comes to what I want. And right now, I want her to know she can’t ignore me forever.

The jeweler on the other end pauses for a beat before responding, his tone shifting to one of eager accommodation. “Of course, Mr. Gunn. We’ll be ready for you shortly.”

I end the call without another word, my chest tightening as I slide my phone into my pocket. This isn’t about proving anything to Daisy-Belle , or to Dexter—or so I tell myself. It’s about showing her, showing everyone, that I’m serious about this marriage. That I don’t half-ass anything, not even a relationship born out of a contract.

But deep down, I know the truth. This is about control. About reclaiming some semblance of power in a situation where I feel like I’m losing my grip. Daisy-Belle doesn’t want me at the hospital? Fine. But she won’t ignore me forever. I’ll make damn sure of it.

The luxury showroom is empty when I arrive, just as I instructed. The air inside is cool and perfumed with the faint, clean scent of polished wood and leather. Glass cases line the walls, sparkling with diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires that catch the light in dazzling displays of wealth.

A bespectacled man in a tailored suit hurries toward me, his hands clasped together in professional deference. “Mr. Gunn, welcome. It’s a pleasure to assist you today. How can we make your visit exceptional?”

“I need an engagement ring,” I state bluntly, striding toward the nearest display case. My eyes scan the rows of rings, but none of them feel right. They’re beautiful, sure, but they’re…ordinary. Daisy-Belle isn’t ordinary.

The man clears his throat delicately. “Any particular stone or design in mind, sir?”

I look up, narrowing my eyes at him. “I want something unique. Something that’ll make a statement. Money’s not an issue, so bring me your best.”

He nods quickly, retreating to a hidden door behind the counter. Moments later, he returns with a black velvet tray. On it are three rings, each one more extravagant than the last.

The first is a massive diamond solitaire, flawless and blindingly bright. The second is an intricate design with emeralds and diamonds woven together in a delicate floral pattern. The third catches my attention immediately: a rose gold band set with a deep blue sapphire at its center, surrounded by smaller diamonds that shimmer like stars.

“This one,” I say, pointing to the sapphire ring without hesitation.

The jeweler smiles, clearly pleased with my choice. “An excellent selection, Mr. Gunn. The sapphire symbolizes loyalty and sincerity, and the craftsmanship is unparalleled. Shall I have it sized?”

“Don’t bother,” I reply, already reaching for my wallet. “Just box it up. I’ll figure the rest out later.”

As I step back into the car with the velvet box in my pocket, I stare out at the city streets rushing past. The weight of the ring feels heavier than it should, like a promise I’m not sure I know how to keep.

Daisy-Belle doesn’t want this. Hell, I’m not even sure I want this. But the ring is more than a piece of jewelry—it’s a declaration, a stake in the ground. She might hate me, she might never love me, but she’ll have to acknowledge me.

For better or worse, this is who I am. Damian Gunn doesn’t wait for the right time. I make the time. I take what’s mine. And Daisy-Belle ? She’ll realize soon enough that she’s no exception.