"Make sure you stay close, alright? I don't want him disappearing..." I said firmly to Bella as we stepped into the luxury shoe boutique. My eyes scanned the mall out of habit—wide marble floors, soft lighting, a few distant shoppers drifting between stores. It was a weekday, quiet and calm, but that never stopped my nerves.
"Alright," Bella replied easily. "Mom's here too, so I doubt we'll lose him."
I nodded, giving her arm a light tap as reassurance before we approached Noah.
He stood a few feet away, completely absorbed, holding up a pair of black Louboutins studded with subtle spikes. His eyes were shining, like he'd just discovered buried treasure. It made my chest ache in that warm, dangerous way.
"I'll be back, okay?" I said softly, stepping close. "I need to use the bathroom. Stick close to Liz and Bella."
I leaned down and kissed him—slow, grounding. I felt him relax immediately, like he always did when I touched him.
"Alright..." he murmured, already drifting back into admiration of the shoes, turning them slightly to catch the light.
God, he's adorable. I smiled to myself. Those are definitely coming home with us.
As I walked out of the store, the anticipation hit me all at once. My steps felt lighter, quicker, my pulse loud in my ears as I headed down the hall toward the jeweler. Glass storefronts passed by in a blur, my reflection flickering in polished stone and mirrors.
He had no idea.
No idea what was about to happen. No idea how close he was to everything he'd ever wanted—everything we wanted.
My fingers curled slightly as I imagined it: the weight of the ring in my palm, the way his breath would hitch when he realized what I was doing. The way his eyes would widen, shimmer, maybe even tear up a little. I could already see it so clearly it almost felt real.
I grinned to myself, heart racing. He was going to be absolutely ecstatic.
As I approached the jeweler, my attention was stolen instantly.
There it was—resting beneath pristine glass like it knew it was special. A pink diamond, soft but striking, set into a smooth gold band that caught the light just right. Not loud. Not gaudy. Elegant. Warm.
That would look perfect on Noah. My chest tightened at the thought, my steps slowing as I leaned closer to the display.
"Hi, I'm Elara," I said, lifting my gaze to the jeweler. "I'm looking for marriage rings. Would it be possible to see some options?"
"Of course!" the man replied warmly. He unlocked the case and carefully laid out a velvet tray filled with rings—dozens of them. Different cuts, metals, designs. Each one beautiful in its own way.
But my eyes kept drifting back to the pink diamond.
"Our rings start at one thousand and go all the way up to one fifty thousand," the jeweler said casually before stepping away, giving me space.
I barely registered the price range.
Money meant nothing to me at this point in my life.
For Noah? I'd spend anything. Not because he'd expect it—he never would—but because he deserved something that reflected how precious he was to me. Something he could look down at every day and feel loved, chosen, protected.
My fingers hovered over the tray, tracing possibilities in my mind.
Then it hit me right in the face. Noah wouldn't just need one ring.
He'd need two.
One for me. One for Bella.
The realization made my lips curve into a slow, knowing smile.
Bella wouldn't care about the cost or the cut. As long as she had a ring, as long as it meant forever, she'd be happy. But the symbolism mattered—to me.
Two rings. The same ring.
Equal. Balanced. Unquestionable.
Bella and I were more than partners—we were bound, intertwined, almost like sisters in spirit. Giving Noah two identical rings felt right. It wasn't favoritism. It wasn't hierarchy.
It was unity.
Yes., I was fully convinced now.
Two of the same rings. Pink diamonds. Gold bands. A promise he'd carry from both of us, always.
I glanced back at the ring that had first caught my eye, my heart steady and sure.
This is it.
The jeweler returned, his posture sharper now, eyes bright in that way people get when they sense a serious purchase coming.
"Do you happen to have two of these pink diamond rings?" I asked calmly, tapping the ring. "If so, I'll happily take them off your hands."
He smiled, already halfway sold. "Let me check the back. We usually keep doubles for occasions like this."
He disappeared through the rear door, and I let out a slow breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.
While he was gone, my attention drifted to the other display—rings meant for us. Me and Bella. My fingers hovered over two blue diamond bands, the stones cool and deep like a clear winter sky. Strong. Steady. Perfect.
I glanced at the price tag. Twenty thousand each.
So forty thousand for the blue diamonds.
And Noah's rings—fifty thousand each.
One hundred thousand.
One hundred and forty thousand total.
For a split second, the number sat heavy in my mind.
Then I scoffed internally.
What am I even thinking?
Just days ago, I'd signed off on sixteen million dollars for land and a mansion—land meant to cradle my family, our future, our children running barefoot through fields that belonged to us. Compared to that, this was nothing. Pocket change.
And with the steady flow of "reparations" still coming in from the Sinaloa cartel—money meant to keep mouths shut and lawyers loyal—I was set for life. For multiple lives even.
The jeweler returned, holding a second pink diamond ring. Nearly identical—same stone, same band—only the setting differed slightly, a subtle variation that somehow made it feel intentional rather than mismatched.
I smiled.
"Wow," I said softly. "Absolutely beautiful."
Then, without hesitation, I pointed to the blue diamonds. "I'll take those two as well."
The man's smile widened. "Perfect. Will you be financing, or—"
"Cash," I said flatly.
No pride. No hesitation.
Just certainty.
He nodded immediately and disappeared again, this time to retrieve the boxes and a discreet bag.
As I stood there, heart humming, a warmth spread through my chest that money couldn't buy.
I was really doing this.
I was going to propose.
Soon.
And Noah had no idea—not about the rings, not about the house, not about the life I was lining up piece by piece for him.
The thought made my lips curve into a satisfied smile.
Perfect timing.
-
(Noah's pov)
I wandered the mall clutching a bag containing the Louboutin shoes, Bella and Liz at my side, my eyes constantly scanning storefronts and passing faces. Elara had been gone longer than I expected—long enough for that familiar knot of worry to start tightening in my chest.
"She said she'd be right back..." I muttered, half to myself.
We checked the bakery—warm air thick with sugar and yeast—but she wasn't there. I kept walking anyway, my steps restless, unease buzzing under my skin like static.
And then I stopped short. Red hair. Green eyes.
Her.
The girl from school.
The one who'd tried to ask me out—if being pushy and ignoring every hint of discomfort counted as asking.
"Well, well, well, Noah," she said, stepping directly into my path like she owned the space. Her smile curled slow and smug. "Looks like fate brought us together once more."
My stomach dropped.
She leaned in too close, invading my space, and before I could react her fingers brushed along my side—deliberate, lingering, shameless. My breath caught, disgust and panic tangling in my chest as I opened my mouth to tell her to back off—
—but Bella moved faster.
A sharp, solid crack echoed as Bella's fist connected with the girl's face. No hesitation. No warning. Just raw instinct.
The girl crumpled instantly, collapsing to the polished floor in a heap, completely unconscious.
For a heartbeat, everything froze.
Then I realized—no one was paying attention. A few workers behind the counters glanced up, then went back to what they were doing like nothing had happened.
I exhaled shakily and turned to Bella.
"Thanks," I said softly, stepping into her and wrapping my arms around her. Relief flooded through me as I kissed her, quick at first, then lingering. She hummed quietly against my lips, grounding me, reminding me I was safe.
We parted just as footsteps approached.
"Elara!"
She appeared like she'd been summoned, walking toward us with a shopping bag tucked in her arm, brows already knitting with concern when she saw my face.
"Finally!" I said, breaking into a grin as I rushed over and hugged her tightly. "I thought you died or something."
She snorted lightly, hugging me back just as firm. "Relax. I was gone, not kidnapped."
The weight in my chest eased instantly.
With them both there—Bella solid at my side, Elara's arms around me—the world felt right again.
"What happened with her?" Elara asked suddenly, her gaze dropping to the girl sprawled on the floor.
"She was being a weirdo," I said, my face twisting with disgust. "She touched me too."
Elara's expression changed instantly.
"Oh really?" she said quietly.
She stepped away from me, calm and deliberate, and crossed the short distance. Without a word, she delivered two sharp kicks to the girl's side—controlled, precise. Nothing dramatic, but enough that I knew the girl would definitely feel it when she woke up.
Elara exhaled, irritation clear as she leaned down just long enough to spit near the girl's face. Then she straightened, already done with it.
"Let's get home," she said, turning back to us like nothing had happened.
I smiled, tension finally draining from my body.
God, I love them so much.