Morning light crept over the mansion like a gentle announcement:
This is it.
Elena stood in the garden, where everything had begun, her arrival, her confusion, her fight for freedom, her fight for love. Dewdrops clung to the roses, shimmering like trapped tears.
Damian approached first.
He didn’t touch her.
He didn’t smirk.
He simply stood beside her like a man ready to hear the truth, even if it shattered him.
“I won’t make a speech,” he said quietly. “You already know what I feel. What I’d give. What I’d burn.”
His hand curled into a fist.
“If I lose you… I’ll carry it. Just don’t lie to yourself because of me.”
Michael arrived moments later, calmer but no less intense.
“All I want is your happiness,” he said. “Even if it’s not with me. Just… don’t choose out of guilt. Choose
