Chapter 23
After returning to New York, Callum descended into a punishing routine of self–destruction. He became a ghost in his own company–first to arrive each morning, last to leave each night–as if the sterile fluorescent lights of his corner office might somehow burn away his regret.
At home, the spiral continued. He self–medicated with increasingly expensive scotch, drinking until unconsciousness provided temporary escape from the thoughts that plagued him. The penthouse that had once reflected his meticulous standards now stood as testament to his unraveling.
Matt had developed a grim morning ritual–arriving at Callum’s apartment before the housekeeper to erase the evidence of the previous night’s breakdown. He’d find his once–formidable boss sprawled across the sofa or slumped against the wall, empty bottles scattered like casualties around him.
“Cassie,” Callum would sometimes murmur in his stupor, the name slipping out like a prayer he no longer believed would be answered.
Each morning, cleaning up the wreckage, Matt would think the same thing: You created this wasteland yourself. Every piece of this misery is self–inflicted.
Meanwhile in Rome, Cassie stood beneath a canopy of cascading flower petals in the vineyard’s central courtyard. Her white and blue sundress caught the Mediterranean light perfectly, making her appear to glow from within. Fabio stood before her, his expression one of absolute concentration as he carefully tucked a handcrafted lily into
her hair, his fingers gentle against her temple.
“From the moment I first saw you,” he said, his voice steady with conviction despite the audience of vineyard workers gathering nearby, “I knew you were the most extraordinary woman I’d ever met. That hasn’t changed–and
it never will.”
He took her hands in his, thumbs brushing lightly across her knuckles. “I adore everything about you, Cassie Brooks. Your brilliant mind, your resilient heart, your quiet strength. Will you officially be my girlfriend? Let me show you how love is supposed to feel?”
This wasn’t his first declaration–each previous one had been equally sincere, equally unguarded. Over their weeks together, Cassie had found herself increasingly ready to take this step, to trust again despite everything.
Now, standing in the warm Italian sunshine with the lily in her hair catching golden light, she made her choice. Taking the initiative, she squeezed his hands and nodded, a shy smile transforming her face. “Yes,” she said simply.
“Absolutely yes.”
Giovanna’s family and Martina erupted in cheers from where they’d been “casually” working nearby. They surrounded the new couple while singing an improvised celebratory song, their genuine happiness for her creating a moment Cassie knew she would remember forever.
Fabio immediately pulled her into an embrace, his joy unrestrained and infectious. Pink petals continued falling around them–Martina’s theatrical touch–nature’s blessing on this new beginning.
Cassie felt a profound sense of rightness settle into her bones. How fortunate she was to have found the courage to
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Chapter 23
rebuild herself from the ground up, to discover that the woman she truly was had been waiting all along,
Three years passed in a blur of growth and discovery. The vineyard released a special reserve wine Cassie had personally developed from concept to execution, aptly named “Rinascita“-Rebirth. The label bore her signature alongside the estate’s crest, marking her transformation from employee to partner.
The limited edition sold out within hours–purchased entirely by one buyer operating through a shell company. Callum Reid.
When the shipment arrived at his Manhattan penthouse, he opened the first bottle immediately, pouring generoudly as memories flooded back unbidden. He recalled Cassie moving through their home–the way she’d hum while cooking, how she’d fall asleep against his shoulder during movies, the way she’d looked carrying their child.
The child he’d never truly wanted until it was gone. The woman he’d never truly seen until she disappeared.
The wine disappeared bottle by bottle as night deepened, his emotions cycling between bitter tears and hollow laughter. If he hadn’t built their marriage on deception, would they be sharing this wine together now? Would a toddler be sleeping in the nursery that remained perpetually empty, preserved like a museum to possibilities lost?
“Your wine is exceptional, Cassie,” he whispered to the empty room, raising his glass in a solitary toast. “Just like everything else about you that I was too blind to appreciate.”
A sudden, searing pain gripped his abdomen, doubling him over. His face went ashen as he coughed violently, bringing up a mouthful of dark red liquid–not wine this time, but blood.
Darkness claimed him before he hit the floor.
When Matt arrived the next morning, he found Callum unconscious amid a backdrop of broken glass and spilled wine that looked disturbingly like a crime scene. At the hospital, the diagnosis was devastating: stage four liver cancer, likely exacerbated by years of alcohol abuse following his kidney donation.
Back in Italy, Fabio held Cassie close on their terrace overlooking the vineyard, grumbling dramatically into her hair. “That terrible man bought your entire first release! Every single bottle, through some anonymous company that took us weeks to trace back to him. I should fly to New York just to punch him in his smug face.”
Cassie laughed, about to offer reassurance when Fabio’s expression shifted to boyish pride. “But I outsmarted him,” he declared, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I saved the bottle we made together–the prototype with our handwritten label. The only one of its kind in the world! He can drink all he wants, but nothing compares to our unique
creation.”
She playfully pushed away her increasingly clingy boyfriend, silently marveling at how this successful businessman had grown more playful and unguarded since they’d become a couple. The smile that spread across her face watching him contained nothing but genuine affection–not the calculated appreciation she’d once manufactured to please Callum, but authentic joy in simply being with someone who loved hertly as she was.
Later that day, Fabio left for what he claimed was an “unavoidable business meeting,” disappointing Cassie who’d hoped to spend her rare day off simply existing together in comfortable silence. But by dinnertime he returned, asking her to dress up for a special occasion. He’d bought her a beautiful pink and white dress that made her feel like something out of a fairy tale, and even helped braid her hair with fresh flowers, refusing to reveal their destination despite her increasingly creative questioning.
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Chapter 23
When they arrived at their own apartment, Cassie was genuinely puzzled. “This is just our place,” she said,
confusion evident.
“Exactly right,” Fabio replied with a mischievous grin, leading her inside.
The apartment had been completely transformed in the hours she’d spent at Martina’s being distracted. String lights cascaded from every surface, creating a celestial glow throughout the space. Photo frames covered an entire wall–a chronological timeline of their relationship from the first ink–splattered meeting to their most recent weekend trip to Sicily. Most surprisingly, everyone who mattered in their lives had gathered–Giovanna and her family, Martina, colleagues from the vineyard, even Fabio’s parents who’d flown in from Milan.
“I haven’t slept properly for days planning this,” Fabio admitted, suddenly looking nervous for the first time since she’d known him. “Martina’s been mercilessly teasing me about my obsessive attention to detail.”
Then, dressed in his crisp white suit that contrasted perfectly with his olive skin, he dropped to one knee and produced a small velvet box. Inside sat a stunning diamond ring designed to resemble a blooming lily–the flower that had marked the beginning of their relationship, now immortalized in platinum and light.
“Cassie Brooks,” he began, his voice steady despite the emotion evident in his eyes, “you rebuilt yourself from ashes, creating something more beautiful than before. You’ve taught me what real strength looks like. Would you make me the happiest man in Italy by agreeing to be my wife?”
Amid cheers and applause from their assembled loved ones, Cassie felt as though she were floating.
Tears of pure joy spilled down her cheeks as she accepted both the ring and the proposal.
In this moment of perfect clarity, she realized she had finally found not just where she belonged, but who she truly was–not someone’s replacement, not someone’s reflection, but entirely, unapologetically herself.
