Chapter 1 continued
993 Words
She walked toward the dressing table and gently opened the silver package Sophie had brought.
Inside was a beautifully handcrafted leather journal.
Its cover was embossed with delicate golden vines, and at the center were two simple words.
New Beginnings
Clara ran her fingers across the cover before opening it.
The first page already contained handwriting.
Sophie's handwriting.
"For the days when happiness feels too big to hold.
For the days when life becomes difficult.
Write everything.
One day, you'll read these pages again and remember not only the woman you became—but the woman you were before everything changed."
Clara felt her throat tighten.
"You wrote this?"
Sophie nodded.
"I know how much you love writing."
"It isn't expensive."
"It isn't flashy."
"But I hoped it would become something priceless."
Clara closed the journal carefully before pulling Sophie into a warm embrace.
"I love it."
"No."
Sophie laughed.
"You'd better love it."
"Because I spent three weeks looking for the perfect one."
"You could have bought an ordinary notebook."
"I could have."
"But ordinary doesn't suit my best friend."
Clara smiled through eyes that had begun to glisten.
"I don't deserve you."
"You're wrong."
"You deserve every good thing that comes into your life."
Those words lingered between them.
Clara looked down quietly.
Sometimes...
She still found it difficult to believe them.
Growing up inside the Beaumont family had taught her many things.
Grace.
Discipline.
Responsibility.
But it had also taught her to ask for very little.
To accept disappointment with a smile.
To avoid becoming a burden.
She had spent years convincing herself that contentment was enough.
Then Lucien entered her life.
He had never tried to change her.
He simply loved her in a way that made her realize she had settled for far less than she deserved.
Not because she lacked worth.
Because she had forgotten she possessed it.
A soft vibration interrupted the silence.
Her phone lit up.
Lucien.
Before she could answer, another message appeared.
I'm downstairs.
Sophie laughed immediately.
"He couldn't wait?"
"He said he was busy all morning."
"He probably was."
Sophie stood.
"And yet somehow the busiest billionaire in Europe found time to come and see his fiancée."
Clara couldn't hide her smile.
"I'll be back soon."
"You'd better."
"We still have cake tasting this afternoon."
"And your aunt wants your opinion on chair ribbons."
Clara groaned.
"I thought weddings were supposed to be romantic."
"They are."
"For the bride and groom."
"They're exhausting for everyone else."
Still smiling, Clara hurried downstairs.
As she reached the grand entrance, the massive wooden doors opened.
Cold winter air swept into the hall.
Lucien Devereaux stood at the top of the stone steps outside.
Tall.
Composed.
His charcoal overcoat was dusted with snow, and despite the freezing weather, he wore the same calm confidence that made headlines across Europe whenever he appeared in public.
Two security vehicles remained discreetly parked beyond the gates.
His driver stood several meters away, giving the couple privacy.
The moment Lucien saw Clara, the stern expression he wore during board meetings disappeared.
His eyes softened.
"There you are."
Clara walked toward him.
"I thought you had meetings all day."
"I cancelled one."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Only one?"
"I postponed three."
"For me?"
"For us."
He reached for her gloved hands and rubbed them gently between his own.
"They're freezing."
"I was watching the snow."
"You've always loved winter."
"I still do."
He smiled.
"I know."
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
They simply stood there, surrounded by falling snow while the enormous Beaumont Estate continued its endless preparations behind them.
It was one of those quiet moments Clara treasured most.
With Lucien, silence never felt uncomfortable.
It felt safe.
He looked at her carefully.
"You're thinking again."
"Is it that obvious?"
"It always is."
"What gave me away?"
"You only become this quiet when something important is on your mind."
She smiled.
"I'm thinking about four days from now."
"So am I."
"Are you nervous?"
He shook his head.
"No."
"Not even a little?"
"The only thing I'm worried about..."
He stepped closer.
"...is whether you'll still laugh at my terrible jokes after we're married."
She laughed despite herself.
"I make no promises."
"I'll take my chances."
His smile lingered for a moment before becoming more serious.
"Clara."
"Hmm?"
"When you walk toward me in that cathedral..."
"I don't want you thinking about the guests."
"Or the cameras."
"Or our families."
"I only want you to look at me."
She searched his face.
"Why?"
"Because everyone else will disappear."
"There'll only be us."
Emotion filled her chest.
Moments like these reminded her why saying yes to Lucien had never been difficult.
He never promised perfection.
He promised partnership.
He never expected her to become someone else.
He simply wanted the woman she already was.
As they stood beneath the softly falling snow, neither of them noticed the figure watching quietly from an upstairs window.
Margaux Beaumont stood behind the curtains.
Her face revealed nothing.
Her expression was calm.
Controlled.
Unreadable.
She watched the couple below for several long seconds before slowly letting the curtain fall back into place.
Then, without another glance toward the window, she turned and walked deeper into the silent hallway.
Outside, Clara smiled as Lucien tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
For the first time in years, she believed every unanswered prayer had finally led her here.
She believed she had found the man she would grow old with.
She believed the loneliness she had carried for so many years was finally over.
She believed love had found its way home.
She did not know that somewhere beyond the beauty of falling snow...
...beyond the laughter...
...beyond the wedding preparations...
...the first move in a carefully hidden betrayal had already been made.
And before another week had passed...
Everything she believed about love...
Family...
And forever...
Would be stolen from here
- Writer
