The glass towers of Hampson International gleamed under the late morning sun. Inside the top floor, Chris stood before the boardroom window, tie loosened, papers scattered across the long table. Deals, acquisitions, mergers his empire was thriving, but his mind wasn't fully there.
His phone buzzed. A message from Bella.
Landed in Rome. On schedule. I'll be back tonight. Kiss Jessy and Arabella for me.
Chris's lips curved despite himself. Even halfway across Europe, she had a way of grounding him.
At that very moment, Bella was stepping off the plane, her uniform crisp, her hair swept neatly into a bun. Passengers thanked her as they filed out, but her thoughts had already drifted home. The six-hour flight had been smooth, but she couldn't shake the longing for Jessy's giggles or Arabella's endless chatter about her new school.
By three o'clock, the nanny's car rolled up outside Romero Academy. Arabella burst out of the gates, backpack bouncing as she ran into the nanny's arms.
"Maya gave me her extra biscuit today!" she announced proudly, waving the half-eaten snack.
The nanny laughed. "And did you say thank you?"
Arabella nodded solemnly. "Of course. Mummy says good manners are everything."
From there they drove to the pre-school, where Jessy toddled out with his teacher, his tiny hands clapping. "Mama? Dada?" he babbled, even though neither were there. The nanny scooped him up with a smile.
Back at Romero, Chris arrived early, his car pulling in just as the children came through the doors. Arabella ran to him instantly, hugging his legs, while Jessy squealed "Dada!" loud enough to make everyone look. Chris lifted them both with surprising ease, Arabella on one arm, Jessy tucked against his chest. For a moment, the ruthless CEO was just a father tired, softened, alive.
That evening, Bella returned. Jessy practically launched himself into her arms, while Arabella pulled her into a whirlwind of stories about spelling tests and art class. Chris watched from the doorway, his tie discarded, his eyes unreadable but warmer than anyone at Hampson International had ever seen.
Later, when the children were asleep and the house had fallen into hush, Bella and Chris sat together at the dining table with open planners.
"So," Bella began, flipping a page. "Mum thinks we should do the vow ceremony in London, but Joe says Ilorin would mean more."
Chris leaned back, watching her fuss with her pen. "We could do both. A wedding here and a wedding there. You only get married once."
Bella laughed softly. "You say that like it's easy."
"For you, it is." His voice was low, steady. "Whatever you want, I'll make it happen."
Her heart warmed, though her practical side fought through. "You realise that means double planning, double guests, double stress?"
He smirked. "Then it's a good thing you thrive under pressure."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "Fine. But I'm choosing the cake."
"Deal."
Their fingers brushed across the papers, lingered, then twined together. Amid the talk of venues, guest lists, and family, something unspoken settled between them this wasn't just survival anymore. It was building. Planning. Living.
And for the first time in years, Bella allowed herself to imagine not just tomorrow, but forever.
The Walter residence was alive with voices, laughter, and a healthy dose of chaos. Wedding binders and swatches of fabric covered the dining table, spilling onto the floor.
Vera sat at the head of the table, glasses perched on her nose, flipping through colour palettes. "Champagne gold and emerald green will never go out of style. Classic, elegant."
"Noona," Kayden groaned, leaning back in his chair, "you're not the one walking down the aisle. Let Bella choose."
"I didn't say I wasn't letting her choose," Vera shot back. "I'm guiding. Big difference."
Bella laughed under her breath, though her cheeks flushed as every eye turned to her. "I like the emerald," she admitted softly. "But maybe with white roses instead of gold?"
"White roses are too simple," Raquel piped up from the corner, scrolling on her phone. "You need something bold. Fuchsia accents, maybe."
"Fuchsia?" Hailey nearly choked on her tea. "She'll look like a disco ball in the pictures."
"Excuse me!" Raquel argued, sitting up straighter. "I know what's trending."
Joe, quiet until now, cleared his throat. "What about keeping it small? Just family, no fuss."
Every single head whipped toward him, then erupted in laughter.
"Small?!" Jayden nearly fell out of his chair. "You clearly don't know this family anymore, Dad. Small isn't in our dictionary."
Even Chris chuckled, though he sat a little apart from the chaos, Arabella perched on his lap and colouring quietly. His eyes stayed mostly on Bella, watching the way her shoulders relaxed with her siblings around her, the way her smile grew freer with every playful jab.
Jessy toddled across the room, his chubby fingers wrapped around Vera's scarf, tugging until it nearly slipped from her shoulders. Everyone laughed when he babbled, "Nanaaa," his teeth showing proudly.
Vera scooped him up, beaming despite herself. "This one's going to walk you down the aisle at this rate."
Bella pressed her lips together to hide her smile. The sight of her son calling her mother Nana melted something deep inside her.
"Can we please discuss something important?" Alexis cut in. "Like the fact that bridesmaids' dresses need to be flattering. And no pastels. I refuse to look washed out."
"Selfish much?" Bianca teased, tossing a pillow at her.
"It's called honesty," Alexis said primly, ducking the pillow with a smirk.
The room buzzed with energy, opinions clashing, laughter breaking through arguments, children squealing in the background.
Bella sat back for a moment, watching her family and friends throw themselves into the plans. For months, her world had been danger, secrets, and survival. Now it was fabric swatches, cake flavours, and petty arguments over colour schemes.
Her throat tightened unexpectedly.
Chris noticed instantly. He leaned forward, murmuring just for her: "You alright?"
She nodded, blinking quickly. "Yes. Just... this. All of this. I didn't think I'd ever have it again."
His hand slid over hers under the table, steady and warm. "Get used to it, Bella. This is forever now."
Her heart leapt, steady and certain, even as her family argued loudly over whether they should serve jollof rice or pasta at the reception.