Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
As applause erupts, instead of shrinking away or instinctively deflecting the praise, I offer a graceful bow.
"My woman moves fast." Nico's voice booms throughout the room, commanding everyone's attention. The crowd parts as he strides toward me, something different in his demeanor.
His nervousness has vanished, replaced by unwavering determination.
"It only took one date for me to recognize she was extraordinary," he continues. "It only took one date, my perfect Vignette, to realize I craved a connection with you deeper than I believed possible for a man like me. You are the most talented, compassionate, wittiest, most enchanting, breathtakingly beautiful woman I have ever encountered. In two short months, you've completely changed my world. You've given me a fresh perspective. You've awakened me to life itself."
He crosses the room deliberately, taking my hands in his.
"That's why I wanted this moment to happen here, surrounded by your art, because it breathes life into me, too. When I gaze upon your paintings, I witness your passion, your dedication. I see... you. I love you, Sienna. I need you. When we're apart, I yearn for you, every moment of every day. You're my angel, my muse. You're my everything."
When he drops to one knee, another collective gasp fills the room. Realization finally dawns on me. Tears well in my eyes, blurring the canvas of my world. He reaches into his jacket pocket and extracts a ring box.
He opens it, allowing me a precious moment to admire the ring. It's exquisite... perfectly suited to me. His thoughtfulness is evident in every detail.
A sapphire of rose and dark orange, creating a painterly red, with an asymmetrical swirl in the setting reminiscent of a brushstroke or a graphite line.
"Sienna Vale," he says, "will you marry me?"
For an extended moment, I stare at him, acutely aware of the world spinning beneath my feet. I etch this moment into my memory, determined to preserve every line, every nuance, every shade.
"Yes," I exclaim, excitement finally bubbling out of me.
His face lights up with joy, igniting my own happiness. He slips the ring onto my finger. Around us, the crowd erupts in celebration. Springing to his feet, he pulls me into a passionate kiss. It's the most profound moment of the night, which speaks volumes, considering one of my greatest dreams has come true tonight.
"I've never seen you smile like this before," I say. "It's exactly as Gianna described when we first met. You've got that boyish, excited glint in your eye... magnified a thousandfold."
"That's because I've never experienced such profound happiness before."
He kisses me again.
Epilogue
Nico
Two Weeks Later
I stand at my office window, casually tossing a baseball between my hands, surveying the city below with a contented smile. I acknowledge that circumstances may eventually necessitate unleashing the Don's darkness within me. But not today. Not now.
Life is better than good. It's sublime. Long, languorous Sunday mornings entwined with my woman, watching her immerse herself in project after project, witnessing her flourish as she diligently establishes her own gallery.
The city is at peace. The Russians, under Anya's rule, maintain order. Should that change, I'll unleash my savage nature.
But not now. Not today.
I return home to discover Sienna standing in the hallway, clad in a white shirt adorned with graphite smudges... and nothing else. Her legs tantalize me, as do the unfastened top buttons, revealing a tempting glimpse of her cleavage. Yet her expression betrays something profound weighing on her mind.
"Evening, beautiful," I greet her, brushing my lips against her cheek.
"Will you come with me?"
"That sounds ominous."
"No, but – it is life-altering."
"Now you've truly piqued my curiosity."
She guides me into the living room, which frequently serves as her sanctuary. Though she has her own studio, she cherishes working from home, appreciating how light cascades through my towering windows.
She gestures toward the easel. "I want you to flip through these images. Everything will make sense then."
I approach the easel and turn the first blank page, revealing a sketch of the Cattle and Vine. Mother and I sit at the table. She's captured me in a somber mood, my eyes nearly obsidian.
The next sketch depicts us at putt-putt, with a nascent light in my eyes... and in hers. The graphite rendition of my woman gazes at me with unmistakable adoration.
The next portrays us in the car, my hand between her thighs.
She's sketched herself sketching me. She's sketched us intertwined in bed. She's sketched the restaurant confrontation where I gripped Adrian by the throat, emphasizing her terror that I might snap his neck and face imprisonment.
She's sketched us at Mother's exhibition, followed by our date the subsequent week, and our passionate encounter on the balcony several nights ago.
Finally, the last sketch shows her standing with a small object in her hands. I lean in closer to examine the cylindrical item. It looks like it has writing on it..