Chapter One Hundred And Twenty Seven

Chapter 127

The ruins of the Valerian estate were a somber reminder of the chaos they had endured. But today, for the first time in what felt like forever, laughter echoed through the halls. The air, still tinged with the faint scent of ash, was being replaced by the fragrant aroma of fresh flowers, baking pastries, and an unmistakable sense of hope. 

The estate bustled with activities as the staff hurried to clean up the mess of the chaos. The head staff of different departments, barking orders.

Jemima stood in the partially restored dining hall, now transformed into a planning headquarters. She had now been transformed into a full-blown bridezilla without the worries of an impending danger.

The long oak table, once riddled with bullet holes, was polished to perfection and laden with swatches of fabric, floral arrangements, and sample menus. Ava was at the helm, her clipboard in hand and a pen tucked behind her ear. 

Jemima’s mind wandered off to everything she had been through; her rape, her alter ego Jemma, Jon, Alan… everything she had been through. How she overcame all by some sheer luck was truly remarkable.

“Jemima Luciana Valerian!” Ava called out sternly, drawing Jemima out of her.

“Hmm?” Jemima answered distractedly, forcing herself to refocus on the conversation.

Ava raised a brow, “did you hear a word of anything I just said?”

Jemima scoffed, “Oh yes! Why would you think I didn’t?”

Ava rolled her eyes, “tell me what I said last?”

Ava challenged, popping a blueberry in her mouth.

“The lace or the silk?” Jemima questioned, not sure what she heard.

“Okay let’s take a five-minute breather so you can tell me what’s got you so distracted?”

Jemima sighed and placed her hands on the table, resting her chin softly against her propped elbows. “I guess I’m just reminiscing on everything that I’ve been through and right now, it just feels…”

“Emancipating?” Ava finished for her and Jemima nodded with a chuckle, reaching out for a blueberry and popping one into her mouth

“I get it Jem, I do and I am so proud of the woman you’ve become, and in less than what… twenty hours? You’d become Mrs Jemima Black! Oh how far you’ve come,” a soft sob escaped from Ava’s lips.

"Oh don’t cry, Ava. If you do, I’ll do too, and…” Jemima choked on her saliva, tears streaming down her face. She walked over to Ava and they both held each other’s embrace, allowing their emotions to spill over without any control.

After fifteen minutes of bawling their eyes out, they cleaned up their faces and decided to get to work. The wedding preparations weren’t going to sort out itself.

"Alright, let’s get down to business, shall we?” Ava asked, exhaling. Jemima nodded in agreement as she focused on the task at hand. “Lilies or roses?" Ava asked, holding up two floral arrangements. 

"Lilies," Jemima replied without hesitation. "For some reason, they seem more peaceful and calm. It doesn’t scream at you, you know." 

Ava smiled softly, placing the lilies in the "approved" pile. "I get it Bridezilla! Good choice. Marcus said he'd handle the catering, but I don't trust him to stay out of the champagne long enough to finalize the menu." 

Jemima laughed, the sound surprising even herself. It felt foreign, but it also felt good. 

"Where is Marcus, anyway?" she asked, glancing toward the door. 

"Last I saw, he was arguing with Dimitri about seating arrangements," Ava replied. "Something about keeping Mancini's former allies as far from us as possible." 

Jemima rolled her eyes. "Of course. Leave it to Marcus to make a diplomatic incident out of a wedding." 

As if on cue, Marcus appeared in the doorway, his tie undone and his expression exasperated. 

"Jem, tell me why we're inviting half the people who tried to kill us last month," he said, throwing his hands up. 

"Because we're turning a new page," Jemima said, stepping forward to fix his tie. "And because forgiveness is part of healing plus it’s not half the people that tried to kill us." 

Marcus sighed but didn't argue. "Fine. But if one of them so much as looks at me funny, I'm kicking them out, and don’t even think I’m joking about that." 

Upstairs, Vanessa sat cross-legged on Jemima's bed, her wounded shoulder bandaged but healing. A small sewing kit lay open beside her as she adjusted the hem of Jemima's wedding dress. 

"I still don't know why you didn't just buy a new one," Vanessa said, squinting as she worked. "This dress has been through hell. I mean, it’s not like you can’t afford another one. Jay Black is like the richest man I know." 

“Uh hello? Are you forgetting Elon Musk?” Jemima asked with a huge gleam in her eyes.

“Well, I know that Jem but this is Jay Black!”

"I know but I don’t want to get a new one because of exactly what this one represents," Jemima replied, running her fingers over the delicate lace.

“Which is?” Vanessa asked.

“It survived. Just like we did. It’s a survivor just like us!" 

Vanessa paused, her needle hovering midair, and smiled. "Fair enough. But don't blame me if it looks a little battle-worn." 

"It'll be perfect," Jemima said with certainty. 

As Vanessa continued her work, Jay appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. 

"Am I allowed to see the dress?" he teased, his grin mischievous. 

"No!" both women shouted in unison, making him laugh. 

"Fine, fine," Jay said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I'll leave you to your secrets. But, Jem..." He paused, his tone softening. "You look happy." 

"I am," Jemima said, meeting his gaze. "For the first time in a long time, I am." 

By midday, the estate was buzzing with activity. Friends and allies from across the region arrived, their laughter and chatter filling the air. The once-silent halls were alive again, and the atmosphere was infectious. 

Lucas Wilde, ever the perfectionist, was overseeing the outdoor decorations. He was an old friend who owed them a favor and luckily, he happened to be a great event decorator too. String lights were draped across the courtyard, and tables were set with crisp white linens and centerpieces of lilies and candles. 

"Lucas, the lights on the left are uneven," Ava called from the balcony. 

"They're fine!" Lucas shouted back, though he immediately climbed the ladder to fix them. 

In the kitchen, Marcus was taste-testing everything, much to the chef's annoyance. 

"You're going to run out of food before the wedding even starts," the chef grumbled, swatting Marcus's hand away from a tray of hors d'oeuvres. 

"Quality control," Marcus said with a grin, popping a mini quiche into his mouth. 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the estate, the family gathered in the courtyard for a pre-wedding toast. 

Marcus stood at the head of the table, a glass of champagne in hand. 

"To Jemima and Jay," he began, his voice uncharacteristically emotional. "You've both been through more than anyone should ever have to endure. But through it all, you've shown us what true strength looks like. Here's to a future filled with love, laughter, and peace." 

"Cheers!" everyone echoed, raising their glasses. 

Jemima glanced at Jay, her heart swelling as he leaned over to whisper in her ear. 

"Tomorrow, we start our forever," he said softly. 

"Forever," she echoed, her voice filled with quiet joy. 

Later that night, Jemima sat on the balcony of her room, staring out at the twinkling lights below. Ava joined her, two cups of tea in hand. 

"Can't sleep?" Ava asked, handing her a cup. 

"Too much on my mind," Jemima admitted. 

Ava nodded, sipping her tea. "It's okay to feel nervous, you know. It just means you care." 

Jemima smiled. "It's not nerves. It's...gratitude. For you, for Marcus, for Jay. For all of this." 

Ava reached over, squeezing her hand. "You deserve it, Jem. More than anyone." 

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the past lifting as they looked toward the future. 

The day dawned bright and clear, the sky a perfect shade of blue. Jemima woke to the sound of birdsong and the faint hum of activity outside her window. 

Vanessa was already in her room, holding up the freshly mended dress. 

"Time to make you a bride," she said with a grin. 

Jemima laughed, stepping into the dress. As Vanessa laced up the back, Jemima caught her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was different—stronger, more confident, and finally at peace. 

The courtyard was breathtaking. Guests filled the seats, their faces glowing with happiness as soft music played. Jay stood at the altar, his expression a mix of awe and love as Jemima walked down the aisle on Marcus's arm. 

When they reached the altar, Marcus placed Jemima's hand in Jay's and whispered, "Take care of her." 

Jay nodded, his eyes never leaving Jemima's. 

The ceremony was simple but heartfelt. Vows were exchanged, promises made, and when the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, the cheers were deafening. 

The reception was a whirlwind of laughter, dancing, and joy. Marcus led the first toast, followed by Ava, whose speech had everyone in tears. Even Vanessa managed a few heartfelt words, despite her usual sarcasm. 

As the night wore on, Jemima and Jay stole a moment alone, sitting beneath the twinkling lights. 

"Happy?" Jay asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. 

"More than I ever thought possible," Jemima replied. 

He leaned in, their foreheads touching. "Here's to forever." 

"To forever," she whispered, sealing the promise with a kiss. 

For the first time in years, the Valerians could breathe. The scars of the past remained, but they were no longer defined by them. Together, they looked forward to a future filled with love, laughter, and the promise of new beginnings.