Liyana stepped into her villa, the soft click of her heels echoing through the quiet hallway. The bachelorette party Mira and Ruoxi had thrown was still fresh in her mind—laughter, teasing, a whirlwind of emotions and warmth. But now, as the night wind settled and the stars glittered above, a strange note of stillness settled inside her.
She was about to head upstairs when she noticed something unusual—a trail of rose petals, starting near the main stairwell and winding around toward the back garden.
A note rested on the edge of the console table, written in Damien's bold, familiar handwriting.
"Follow the path. I want to show you something... only for you."
Her heart fluttered.
With quiet curiosity, Liyana slipped off her heels and padded along the petal-strewn path. It led her out into the garden—but instead of continuing toward the lounge area, it veered off to a part of the property she rarely explored.
A soft golden glow appeared ahead—strings of fairy lights draped over a newly built glass conservatory. Her breath caught.
Damien was waiting there, dressed in a black open-collar shirt, sleeves rolled up, his expression calm but intent.
"You built something," she whispered as she stepped inside, her gaze drifting across the room.
It wasn't just any conservatory. The space had a glass dome ceiling, allowing the stars to peek through above them. Around her were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves—each one filled with rare editions of fashion, architecture, poetry, and business. An elegant writing desk sat by the window, and in the middle, a velvet chaise lounge framed by potted lavender and jasmine.
It was a sanctuary.
For her.
Liyana turned toward him, stunned. "Damien… when did you—"
"I started building it the day you agreed to marry me," he said simply. "I remembered how you used to say there's nowhere in the world you could breathe. So I made a place that only listens to you."
She didn't answer at first. Her throat tightened.
He walked over, slipping something into her hand—an old photograph. It was from years ago. A candid shot of Liyana as a teenager, sketching quietly at a company event while everyone else mingled.
"You never knew I kept this," he said. "But that day, I realized how much the world expects from you… and how little space it gives you to just be."
Her fingers trembled around the photo. "You remembered."
"I always remember you," he replied softly.
The silence between them was filled with meaning. Liyana moved toward the chaise and sat down, brushing her hand over the velvet cushion. "This is the most thoughtful gift anyone's ever given me."
"It's not a gift," Damien said, kneeling in front of her. "It's a promise. That even when we're surrounded by chaos, this place—this moment—will always be just ours."
He pressed a velvet box into her hand. She opened it slowly, revealing a delicate silver key pendant.
"To this room?" she asked.
He shook his head. "To me."
Her breath caught.
"Damien…" Her voice faltered, eyes stinging. "You're making it impossible to stay composed before the wedding."
He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's call it practice. Because I plan to spoil you for the rest of your life."
She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. "Thank you for loving me like this."
They sat like that for a long moment, nothing between them but the steady heartbeat of shared dreams. Then Damien pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as she curled into his chest.
No grand speeches. No extravagance.
Just him—and the sanctuary he built out of love.