Chapter One Hundred And Seventeen

Chapter 117

Jemima’s head swooned as a couple of people bombarded her with congratulations. She could not still fathom how Jay could gather such amount of people that she barely even knew.

“Hello, Bride!” Marcus teased playfully as he worked up to his sister. They embraced each other fondly and by the time they pulled out of the hug, Jemima was jabbing him in the ribs playfully.

“Ow! Well, what was that for?” Marcus inquired, amusement dancing across his face.

Jemima huffed as she folded her hands across her chest, “You could have told me you know. A heads up would have been nice.”

Marcus chuckled, “Wouldn’t that have ruined the fun sweet little twin?”

They both chuckled.

“Have you seen Ava? She owes me ten bucks,” Marcus asked, his gaze searching through the crowd for their elder sister.

“You guys bet on me?”

“Oi vey! Yes! I told her you’d be shocked, to say the least, but she for some strange reason thought you’d get an inkling of some sort,” Marcus gave a tired chuckle as he explained, eliciting an eye roll from Jemima.

“Well, good luck with that! I’m going to find my fiancé!” Jemima announced in a sing-song voice as she excused herself, causing Marcus to laugh heartedly. He was genuinely happy to see his sister happy because she had been through so much already.

Later that night, as Jay and Jem sat together on the balcony of their suite, Jemima leaned her head against Jay's shoulder.

"You had me worried, you know," she admitted softly.

Jay chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I wanted it to be a surprise. I'm sorry if I made you doubt me."

She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "You're impossible, Jay Black."

"And you're the love of my life, Jemima Valerian."

As the city lights twinkled in the distance, Jemima felt a deep sense of peace.
They shared a kiss that led to a beautiful moment, their naked bodies dancing rhythmically alongside the twinkle of the night as the moon cast its silver glow against their bare bodies.

Two days later, Jemima was back in a Valerian house. The past two days with just Jay had felt like heaven. He had treated her like a queen and she didn’t even lift a muscle to do anything.
So as she awoke, light spilled through the curtains of Jemima's bedroom, painting the room in a soft, golden hue. She stirred, her hand brushing against the cool metal of the engagement ring on her finger. A smile spread across her lips as the memories of the previous days came rushing back—Jay on one knee, his voice trembling slightly as he asked her to marry him.

Her chest swelled with joy, but as she sat up, the weight of everything hit her. This wasn't just an engagement. This was a union of love, power, and a future she wasn't entirely sure she was ready for.

Jemima swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stared at the ring. It was stunning, a perfect reflection of Jay's thoughtfulness. But beneath the sparkle, there was a twinge of anxiety. Was she prepared to step into this role? The mafia world Jay ruled wasn't just dangerous—it was all-consuming.

Surely she was a silent killer but only on contract, she never really delved into the mafia world. What did this mean for her?

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, slipping on her robe.

Ava stepped in, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. "Good morning, fiancée!" she teased, her grin as bright as the sun outside.

Jemima laughed, accepting the coffee. "Good morning. And thank you—for everything. The party was perfect."

Ava sat beside her, her expression softening. "You deserve it, Jem. Jay's crazy about you. And honestly, I haven't seen you this happy in years."

Jemima sipped her coffee, the warmth soothing her nerves. "It feels surreal. Like, is this my life now? I'm going to marry Jay—Rome's most powerful man. What does that even mean for us?"

Ava tilted her head, studying her sister. "It means you're taking a step toward a future you've fought hard to deserve. But it also means you need to trust him, Jem. He loves you. The rest will fall into place."

Jemima nodded, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. "I know. It's just... a lot to process."

"Then take it one day at a time," Ava said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off her dress. "Now, hurry up and get dressed. Marcus and I are waiting downstairs. We've got a lot to discuss about JEMMARC today."

Jemima groaned but smiled. "Fine. I'll be down in twenty."

The Valerian estate buzzed with activity. The staff moved about efficiently, and the aroma of fresh pastries wafted through the air. Jemima joined Marcus and Ava in the study, where a spread of documents and blueprints lay across the large mahogany table.

Marcus leaned back in his chair, a cup of tea in hand. "We need to finalize the plans for the new distribution channels. The investors are expecting a proposal by the end of the week."

Jemima nodded, scanning the papers. "We also need to address the PR strategy. If we want JEMMARC to truly make a comeback, we need to rebuild trust with the public. It's not just about products—it's about the story we're telling."

Ava chimed in, "I've already reached out to a few PR firms. They're sending over proposals this afternoon."

The three of them worked tirelessly, their synergy undeniable. By midday, they had a clear roadmap for the next quarter.

As they wrapped up, Marcus glanced at Jemima. "You've been unusually quiet today. Still thinking about the engagement party?"

Jemima hesitated before nodding. "A little. It's just... everything feels so big right now. JEMMARC, the engagement, the future. It's overwhelming."

Marcus softened, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to a rare moment of vulnerability. "You're not in this alone, Jem. You've got us—and Jay. You don't have to carry it all by yourself."

She smiled, touched by his words. "Thanks, Marcus. That means a lot."

Later that evening, Jay arrived at the estate, his presence commanding as always. Jemima's heart skipped a beat when she saw him, his grey eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that never failed to make her knees weak.

"Hello, fiancée," he said, his voice low and teasing as he pulled her into his arms.

"Hello, fiancé," she replied, her cheeks flushing.

Jay pressed a kiss to her forehead before leading her to the garden, where a quiet dinner had been set up under the stars. Fairy lights twinkled in the trees, and the sound of a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves added to the serene atmosphere.

As they sat down, Jemima couldn't help but admire the effort Jay had put into the evening. "You don't do anything halfway, do you?"

He chuckled, pouring them both a glass of wine. "Especially not when it comes to you."

They talked about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing effortlessly. But as the night wore on, Jemima's earlier anxieties crept back in.

"Jay," she began hesitantly, setting her glass down. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he said, his expression serious.

"Are you sure about this? About us?"

Jay's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... our world is dangerous. And I'm not exactly a traditional mafia wife. I have my career and my ambitions. What if—"

"Stop," Jay interrupted, reaching across the table to take her hand. "Jemima, I didn't fall in love with you because you fit some mold. I fell in love with you because you're you. Strong, intelligent, passionate. Determined. And yes, our world is dangerous, yes we would be targets for many, and yes we would be the power couple but I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe, and trust me when I say there is absolutely nothing in my power that I cannot do.”

Tears pricked at Jemima's eyes as she nodded. "I just needed to hear that."

Jay smiled as he brushed his thumb gently against her knuckles. "Listen to this too: I'm not going anywhere, Jem. You're stuck with me. I’m yours to have and to keep, yours alone. Through every lifetime, as long as life exists, I am yours, and you are mine... all mine!”

The days that followed were a whirlwind of activity. Wedding plans began to take shape, though Jemima insisted on keeping things simple. "No over-the-top extravagance," she told Ava, who was helping her with the arrangements. "I want it to feel intimate and real."

Meanwhile, JEMMARC continued to gain momentum. The rebranding efforts were well-received, and early feedback from stakeholders was promising.

But amidst the chaos, Jemima couldn't shake the feeling that something was brewing. There were whispers of unrest within the mafia circles—rumors of an old rival resurfacing, someone who wasn't pleased with Jay's growing influence.

One evening, as Jay prepared to leave for a late-night meeting, Jemima stopped him at the door. "Be careful," she said, her voice laced with concern.

He kissed her softly. "Always."

As the door closed behind him, Jemima stood there for a moment, her heart heavy. She trusted Jay, but she couldn't ignore the unease gnawing at her.

Jemima stood on the balcony of her room, staring out at the sprawling estate. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the gardens below.

Her hand rested on the engagement ring, a symbol of the love and commitment she shared with Jay. But as the night deepened, so did her thoughts.

In the distance, a shadow moved—a fleeting figure disappearing into the darkness.

Jemima's breath caught, a chill running down her spine. Was it just her imagination? Or was it a sign of the danger that always seemed to linger on the edges of their lives?

She turned away from the balcony, closing the curtains and shutting out the night. But as she climbed into bed, the unease remained, a silent reminder that even in moments of joy, the shadows were never far behind.