Chapter 7 Happy Ending

# Chapter 7: Happy Ending

Six months had passed since the board meeting that nearly tore us apart. The company had not only survived the scandal but thrived under Kane's continued leadership. Max Thompson was gone, facing legal troubles that would keep him occupied for years. The restructuring had worked in my favor—with a promotion to Creative Director, I now led my own team while reporting to the CMO, maintaining professional distance from Kane at work.

"Earth to Ava," Lisa said, waving a hand in front of my face. "You're staring at your ring again."

I blinked, refocusing on the campaign materials spread across the conference table. "Sorry."

"Two weeks until the wedding and you're completely useless," she teased, though her smile was affectionate. "Not that I blame you. If I were marrying Kane Richardson, I'd be distracted too."

The diamond on my finger caught the light, sending prisms dancing across my notes. Sometimes I still couldn't believe how dramatically my life had changed since that first night at Eros Club.

"Speaking of your fiancé," Lisa continued, "he's been in meetings with that fashion conglomerate all week. Any inside intel?"

"He doesn't discuss acquisition targets with me," I replied honestly. "Ethical boundaries and all that."

After our relationship became public knowledge, Kane and I had been meticulous about maintaining professional separation. No special treatment, no insider information, no decisions that could be perceived as favoritism. It wasn't always easy, but it was necessary.

"Well, the rumor mill says it's a major deal," Lisa gathered her papers. "Anyway, I need to run these mockups to production. Still on for dinner tonight?"

"Absolutely. Kane's bringing the brownstone plans. I need your opinion on kitchen layouts."

The renovation of our brownstone—the one Kane had shown me the night before everything exploded—was nearly complete. We'd move in after returning from our honeymoon, a fresh start in a home that had been part of our journey from the beginning.

Later that afternoon, my phone buzzed with a message from Kane: *Meeting running late. Still on for dinner with Lisa, but I might be 30 minutes behind. Love you.*

I smiled, typing back: *We'll start without you. Don't work too hard. Love you too.*

The easy exchange of affection still warmed me. Kane Richardson, feared CEO and business titan, sending love notes in the middle of workday meetings.

Lisa and I were halfway through our first glass of wine at the restaurant when my phone rang—Kane's assistant.

"Helen? Is everything okay?"

"Ms. Mitchell," Helen's voice was professionally calm as always. "Mr. Richardson asked me to call. He's wondering if you could come to the office. There's something he wants to show you."

I frowned. "Now? We're having dinner with Lisa."

"He said it's important. Something about a surprise."

I glanced at Lisa, who was already waving me off. "Go," she said. "I'll get these to-go and drop them at your place later."

Twenty minutes later, I stepped off the elevator onto the executive floor. The offices were mostly dark, the workday long over except for a few dedicated souls. Kane's office light glowed at the end of the hall.

I knocked lightly before entering. "Helen said you had a surprise?"

Kane stood by his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, looking tired but pleased. "I do. Come here."

As I approached, he pulled me into a kiss that lingered, his hands cradling my face with familiar tenderness.

"What's this about?" I asked when we separated. "Did the acquisition go through?"

"Better." He smiled, reaching for a folder on his desk. "I've been working on something special for weeks. A project just for us."

He handed me the folder. Inside was a proposal for a new division within the company—a creative incubator focused on developing innovative marketing approaches for emerging brands.

"Kane, this looks amazing, but I don't understand—"

"Keep reading."

I flipped to the next page and froze. The proposed director for this new division was me.

"You're creating a division for me to lead?" I looked up, confused. "But the ethical concerns, the appearance of favoritism—"

"Read the structure," he urged.

I did, and understanding dawned. The new division would operate as a separate entity under the corporate umbrella, with its own board and independent oversight. I would report directly to that board, not to Kane or anyone in his direct chain of command.

"You found a way for us to work together without compromising either of our positions," I whispered.

"It took some creative corporate structuring," he admitted. "But yes. You'd have complete autonomy, your own budget, your own team. And I'd get to see my wife's brilliance at work every day without ethical conflicts."

"Wife." The word still sent thrills through me. "Almost."

"Two weeks," he murmured, pulling me closer. "Not soon enough."

His kiss deepened, hands sliding down to my hips. Despite months together, his touch still ignited immediate heat. When he lifted me onto his desk, papers scattering, I laughed against his mouth.

"Here? Really?"

His eyes darkened with familiar intensity. "I've fantasized about this since the first day you walked into my office."

"Mr. Richardson," I teased, loosening his tie. "How unprofessional."

"Incredibly." His hands slid under my skirt. "Should I stop?"

In answer, I pulled him closer.

Later, as we straightened our clothes and restored order to his desk, Kane's expression turned thoughtful.

"I have one more surprise."

"Another one? You're spoiling me."

He took my hand. "This one is more... nostalgic. Come with me."

We took the elevator to the parking garage, where his driver waited with the car. Kane gave an address I didn't recognize, then raised the privacy screen.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up in front of a familiar unmarked door. My eyes widened as I recognized it—Eros Club.

"Kane—"

"Trust me," he said softly, leading me to the entrance.

The doorman recognized Kane immediately, nodding us through without requiring the password. Inside, the club was just as I remembered—dim lighting, elegant furnishings, beautiful people in masks.

Kane led me past the main lounge toward the staircase. "I reserved a room."

"Like old times?" I asked, understanding now.

His smile was both tender and heated. "A proper full circle before we start our new chapter."

Room seven—our room—was waiting, champagne chilling in a silver bucket. On the bed lay two masks, identical to the ones we'd worn that first night.

"Put it on," Kane said, lifting his own mask into place.

I complied, feeling a strange mix of nostalgia and anticipation as the velvet settled against my skin. With our masks in place, we stood facing each other, the past and present overlapping.

"Do you remember what I asked you that first night?" Kane's voice was low, intimate.

"You asked what I wanted."

"And what did you say?"

I smiled behind my mask. "I said I wanted to forget who I was, just for one night."

He stepped closer, fingers trailing along my jaw. "And now?"

"Now I want to remember. Every moment, every touch." I leaned into his caress. "I don't need to be anyone else anymore."

His kiss was achingly gentle. "No more hiding. No more compartmentalizing. Just us, exactly as we are."

We made love slowly, savoring each other with the familiarity of months together and the excitement of our first night. Afterward, lying in his arms, I removed my mask and his, needing to see his face.

"I never thanked you," I said, tracing the line of his jaw.

"For what?"

"For fighting for us. For being willing to risk everything."

Kane captured my hand, kissing my palm. "You would have done the same for me."

"Yes," I realized. "I would have."

Two weeks later, we were married in an intimate ceremony with only close friends and family present. Lisa was my maid of honor, radiant in blue and teary-eyed as we exchanged vows.

"I never thought I'd see the day," she whispered during the reception. "You and the big bad CEO, living happily ever after."

I laughed, watching Kane across the room as he chatted with guests. "It wasn't the smoothest journey."

"But worth it?" She followed my gaze.

"Every complicated moment."

As if sensing my attention, Kane looked up, his smile softening as our eyes met. He excused himself from his conversation and made his way to my side.

"Mrs. Richardson," he said, taking my hand. "Dance with me?"

On the dance floor, he held me close, his lips brushing my ear. "Happy?"

"Completely." I rested my head against his shoulder. "Are you?"

"More than I ever thought possible." His arms tightened around me. "You know, when I saw you that first night at the club, something told me you'd change my life."

"For the better, I hope."

"Beyond measure." He pulled back enough to meet my eyes. "I love you, Ava. Not just parts of you—all of you. The professional, the passionate, the stubborn, the sweet. Every version."

My heart swelled. "And I love every version of you. The CEO, the lover, the fighter, the surprisingly tender man behind the power."

The music shifted to something slower, more intimate. Around us, other couples joined the dance floor, but in that moment, it felt like we were alone in our own world.

"By the way," Kane murmured, "I have a wedding present for you."

"Another surprise? You're making a habit of this."

His smile turned mischievous. "This one's special. I bought Eros Club."

I pulled back, startled. "You what?"

"Technically, the company acquired it as part of a larger entertainment portfolio." His eyes gleamed with amusement. "But yes, I now own the club where we met."

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"Sentimental value." He spun me gently. "And to ensure room seven is always available when we want a nostalgic evening."

I laughed, shaking my head at his extravagance. "Only you would buy an entire club for sentimental reasons."

"Only for you," he corrected, pulling me close again.

As we swayed to the music, surrounded by loved ones celebrating our union, I reflected on our unlikely journey. From anonymous lovers to public figures fighting for our relationship, we had weathered exposure, threats, and corporate politics.

The road ahead wouldn't always be smooth—we were both too strong-willed, too passionate for that. But we had proven we could face anything together, that what we had built was worth fighting for.

Later that night, as we prepared to leave for our honeymoon, Kane pulled me aside for a private moment.

"One last thing before we go," he said, producing a small velvet pouch.

Inside was a delicate gold key on a chain—an exact replica of the charm bracelet he'd given me months ago.

"What's this one for?" I asked as he fastened it around my neck.

"The first key was what you unlocked in me," he said, his fingers lingering on my skin. "This one is for what we've built together—a life, a partnership, a future."

I reached up, kissing him with all the love I felt. "CEO by day, romantic by night. Who would have guessed?"

His smile was tender as he brushed my cheek. "Only you get to see both sides."

"And I love them equally," I replied honestly.

As we walked hand in hand toward the waiting car, I knew that what we had found together was rare and precious—a love that had begun in secrecy but would thrive in the light, strong enough to overcome every obstacle.

Kane helped me into the car, then paused before joining me. "By the way," he said with a glint in his eye, "what should I call you now? Creative Director? Mrs. Richardson? Or just A, like that first night?"

I smiled, pulling him down for another kiss. "Just call me yours."

"Always," he promised, sliding in beside me. "From the first moment, and for every moment to come."

As the car pulled away, carrying us toward our future, I realized we had found the perfect balance—between power and vulnerability, passion and partnership, the professional and the personal. What had begun as a forbidden encounter had transformed into the most authentic relationship of my life.

And I wouldn't change a single complicated, beautiful moment of our journey.