Chapter One Hundred And Sixteen

Chapter 116  

Jemima yawned as she walked out of the office with Marcus, “My goodness! I have never felt so exhausted before.”
Jemima complained as she got into the car while attempting to rub the sleep away from her eyes. 
Ava had to return home early because one of her kids had fallen ill. 

The nanny hadn’t mentioned how serious it was but only that the little girl was crying for her mother. 

“It was productive all the same,” Marcus noted as he geared up the car engine but Jemima wasn’t listening. She glanced at her phone and at the text she had sent four hours earlier. 

It was a simple, “Hey, how are you?” It showed that it had been delivered and read but Jay hadn’t replied. It was very unlike him to not respond to her text. 

Was he okay? She thought to herself but quickly shook it off as just her being paranoid. 

“You good?” Marcus inquired as soon as he noted her apprehensive face. 

“Yeah of course. I’m just tired,” Jemima made a weak attempt and avoid the question and Marcus took the hint. He knew Jemima didn’t like sharing if she didn’t want to and it was best to let her come to you than to poke around for answers. So, he let her be. 

Jemima was disturbed but she tried to mask it behind a weary look and as soon as they got to the Valerian estate, she went straight to her room and allowed herself to be engulfed by sleep. 

The next morning, the foggy haze clung to the Valerian estate as Jemima stretched out of bed, her fingers brushing against the cool silk sheets. She blinked away sleep, her mind already turning to the endless tasks of the day. JEMMARC's revival was well underway, but it was an uphill battle. Every step forward seemed to reveal another obstacle, another lingering shadow of their tumultuous past.  

She glanced at her phone. No messages from Jay still. 

Frowning, Jemima scrolled through her recent conversations. Their dinner the other night had been perfect—or so she thought. Yet, since then, he'd been distant. There were no morning texts or sweet gestures she'd come to expect.  

Shaking her head, she set the phone down and forced herself not to overthink it. “He's probably just busy," she muttered, heading to the bathroom to get ready.  

As the water cascaded over her, she found herself replaying their recent moments together. The warmth in his eyes, the way he'd held her hand across the table, his whispered promises. So why did it feel like he was slipping away?  

Jemima found Marcus and Ava in the dining room, laughing over coffee. Ava's children were nowhere to be seen—likely off with their nanny—leaving the house relatively empty and carefree.  

"Morning, Jem," Marcus greeted, lifting his mug in mock salute.  

"Morning," Jemima grunted out a reply, her tone clipped as she poured herself a cup of coffee.  

Ava tilted her head, her perceptive eyes narrowing. "You okay? You seem... off."  

"I'm fine," Jemima replied too quickly, earning a knowing look from her sister.  

Marcus raised a brow but wisely chose to stay out of it, focusing instead on his plate of scrambled eggs. Ava, however, was relentless.  

"Is this about Jay?" she asked casually, sipping her tea.  

Jemima stiffened. "Why would it be about Jay?"  

"Because you've got that look," Ava said, her lips curving into a teasing smile. "The one you always get when something's bothering you but you're too stubborn to admit it."  

Marcus chuckled. "She's got you pegged, Jem."  

Jemima glared at them both. "I'm fine. Really."  

"Uh-huh. I’d rather believe lions can sing than believe you’re fine,” Ava said, clearly unconvinced.  

Marcus, sensing the tension, changed the subject. "We've got a meeting with the marketing team at noon. They're presenting the new branding concepts."  

"Good," Jemima said, grateful for the distraction. "Let's hope they're as brilliant as they think they are."  

Throughout the day, Jemima tried to focus on work, but Jay's absence gnawed at her. She sent him another text around lunch, a simple "How's your day?" and waited. An hour passed. Then two. No reply.  Two morphed into three and somehow the lines got blurred and before she knew it, four was becoming five hours. 

By the time the marketing team wrapped up their presentation, she was simmering with frustration. She excused herself from the office early, claiming she needed to clear her head.  

As she drove back to the estate, her thoughts spiraled. Had she done something wrong? Was he losing interest? The idea was absurd, but the fear refused to be silenced.  

Unbeknownst to Jemima, Jay was in the city, meeting with a jeweler. The velvet-lined box in his pocket felt heavier than it should, its contents both thrilling and terrifying.  

"I want it to be perfect," Jay said, his voice low as he inspected the ring one last time. The jeweler, an older man with sharp eyes, nodded approvingly.  

"She'll love it," the man assured him.  

Jay exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Let's hope so."  

From there, he met Ava and Marcus at a private venue to finalize the engagement party plans. The space was stunning, adorned with soft lighting and elegant decor. Ava was in her element, directing the staff with an efficiency that left Jay in awe.  

"This is going to blow her mind," Ava said, grinning as she examined the floral arrangements.  

Jay smiled, though his nerves still lingered. "I just hope she doesn't figure it out before then. She's... intuitive."  

Marcus clapped him on the back. "Don't worry. We've got your back. She won't suspect a thing. Although she is starting to worry and the idea of you not wanting her anymore is starting to creep in.”

Jay groaned in exasperation and the pain Jemima must be going through but he needed to do this. 

“It will be over soon,” he whispered out to himself as he walked away from Ava. 

That evening, Jemima sat in the library, nursing a glass of wine. She'd texted Jay again—this time something more direct: “Are we okay?"  

When he finally replied, it was curt and brusque “Busy day. Talk tomorrow."

The words stung more than she cared to admit. She stared at the screen, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios.  

Ava found her there, curled up on the leather sofa, a deep frown etched into her face.  

"Still brooding?" Ava asked, sitting down beside her.  

"I'm not brooding," Jemima snapped, though her tone betrayed her.  

Ava smirked. "Sure you're not."  

Jemima sighed, setting her glass down. "He's pulling away, Ava. I can feel it. And I don't know why."  

Ava hesitated, torn between reassuring her and keeping Jay's secret. "Maybe he's just stressed. You know how work can be."  

"Work? Jay doesn’t need to work! He has enough wealth to last five generations. Have you forgotten he’s the mafia don that oversees all of Rome?" Jemima uttered in Sheree frustration, her tone anything but languid. She huffed and excused herself from Ava’s presence. 

The next few days passed in a blur of meetings and restless nights. Jemima threw herself into work, using JEMMARC's revival as a distraction from her growing unease.  

Jay, meanwhile, was a flurry of activity behind the scenes. Every detail of the engagement party was meticulously planned, from the guest list to the music. He enlisted Ava's help to ensure Jemima wouldn't suspect a thing, while Marcus managed to keep her distracted with work.  

On the day of the party, Ava convinced Jemima to take the evening off, insisting she needed a break.  

"You've been working yourself to the bone," Ava said, practically dragging her upstairs to get ready. "Let me pamper you for once."  

“Sister dearest! Don’t you have your husband to bother? Oh right, he’s away! Case in point, men are trash and would leave you high and dry!” Jemima’s words struck a cord in Ava’s body but she quickly masked it up with a smile. 

“I’m sorry!” Jemima quickly apologized, noting that her tone was rude and unnecessary. 

“No it’s fine and you’re right! My husband and I are going through a divorce Jemima. That’s why you don’t see him around anymore and why I’m always here but I don’t wallow around and here I am trying to cheer you up and you’re being a baby about it!”

“Fine, I’m sorry! I’ll go out with you. Jesus!” Jemima reluctantly agreed, though she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.  

By the time Jemima stepped into the venue that evening, she was floored. The space was breathtaking, illuminated by soft, golden lights and adorned with cascading floral arrangements. Familiar faces filled the room—family, friends, and colleagues—all smiling warmly as she entered.  

"What is this?" Jemima whispered, turning to Ava, who stood beside her with a knowing grin.  

"Just wait," Ava said, nodding toward the center of the room.  

Jemima's breath caught as Jay stepped forward, his dark eyes locked on hers. He looked nervous but determined, his hands fidgeting slightly as he approached her.  

"Jay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.  

He smiled, taking her hands in his. "Jemima Valerian, you've been my rock, my partner, and my greatest love. I can't imagine a future without you in it."  

He dropped to one knee, pulling the velvet box from his pocket. The room fell silent, all eyes on them.  

"Will you marry me?"  

Tears filled Jemima's eyes as she nodded, her voice catching. "Yes!"  

The room erupted into applause as Jay slipped the ring onto her finger, pulling her into a tight embrace. For the first time in weeks, the tension melted away, replaced by overwhelming joy.  

“So do you still think men are trash?” Ava questioned, loud enough for everyone to hear. 

Jemima chuckled, “Yes, but this one is my trash!”

And with that, the crowd in the room erupted into a fit of laughter.