Chapter 332 I've always been yours.
Fireworks adorned the sky without pause, ascending in clusters.
Vivid explosions of color bloomed overhead, transitioning from intense radiance to starry sparkles, and eventually dimming to white dots.
The previously dark night sky was now thoroughly illuminated, casting a magical glow over the snow-covered Rosewood Estate. The scene was breathtaking, resembling a moment straight from a fairy tale.
Natalie looked up, her eyes alight with the reflection of fireworks, making them look even more beautiful.
"Do you like the fireworks display?” Oliver adjusted her cloak, looking down at her with a tender gaze.
‘How could the beauty of inanimate fireworks ever compare to her?’
"Oliver, this..." Natalie looked at Oliver, her expression one of astonishment.
"Happy New Year, Mrs. Windsor."
Oliver tenderly kissed Natalie's forehead.
Natalie was moved, and her eyes grew a little wet.
"What’s wrong? Do you not like it?" Oliver, noticing the reddening of her eyes, was worried. He leaned down to meet her eyes.
"It’s not that," Natalie replied, shaking her head, "I like it a lot."
The fireworks continued, each display surpassing the previous in beauty.
Natalie eventually looked up and said, "Oliver, you’re too good to me… It’s… it’s not right.”
"Why is it not right?” Oliver's brows furrowed in confusion.
"If..." Natalie hesitated, then took a deep breath before saying, "If you’re too nice to me, I’ll see you as mine.”
Being aware of one’s feelings changed everything. Natalie was cautious not to allow herself to develop feelings.
"But I’ve always been yours," Oliver asserted, pressing his forehead against hers and cupping her face gently in his hands. His voice was deep and soothing as he said, “Natalie, you’re the person I love most…”
…
As midnight approached, the city's heart swelled with crowds, packed closely together, shoulder to shoulder.
Amidst the throng, Lilian, like everyone else, raised her eyes to the towering twenty-meter stone clock tower, in anticipation of the New Year's Eve chimes.
"Lucas, I have heard this clock tower is a century old. Is that true?" Lilian asked curiously, her gaze still fixed upward.
Lucas, holding her within his arm yet carefully not embracing her fully to maintain propriety, responded, "Yes, it dates back to the early twentieth century… It’s…"
"Wow! I've been told there’ll be a grand display of fireworks!"
"Really? Let’s go and have a look! It’s been ages since I last saw fireworks."
As Lucas spoke, the crowd around them began to move hastily, scattering in all directions.
"Lucas?" Lilian drew closer, prompting him to continue.
In that instant, someone inadvertently bumped into Lilian from behind. Caught off guard, she stumbled directly into Lucas's embrace.
The chimes signaling midnight began to sound, echoing twelve times to announce the arrival of the new year.
Caught in the moment, Lucas's reactions were mixed, his heart racing as he instinctively caught her by the waist.
Their gaze locked, and they were close enough to share each other's breaths.
In that proximity, Lucas was captivated by Lilian's wide, innocent eyes, which showed neither embarrassment nor reserve. Under her gaze, he could not help but feel like a fool.
As the New Year's chimes echoed, surrounded by the joyous uproar of the crowd, Lilian exclaimed, "Lucas, Happy New Year!"
She smiled warmly, adding, "Thank you for catching me earlier."
Lucas, heart pounding, managed to regain his senses and muttered, “Happy New Year, Lilian.”
…
Meanwhile, at the Starry Hotel, within the luxury of the presidential suite.
Sophia stood by Roger, both watching the unexpected spectacle of fireworks outside.
Initially surprised by the elaborate fireworks display, Sophia then saw Roger’s expression grow darker and colder by the minute as he watched the vibrant display. Under the fireworks' glow, he seemed rather lonely.
"These fireworks..." Sophia began, hesitantly.
She had finally realized the fireworks were set off near Rosewood Estate, where Oliver lived. In that area, fireworks were ordinarily forbidden throughout the year. Only someone like Oliver had the privilege to organize such a magnificent display.
Roger absentmindedly caressed the beaded bracelet on his wrist, responding to Sophia with a detached, "Hmm."
Even Sophia, who had been trained to keep her emotions in check, could not help but feel a touch of sympathy for him at this moment.
“If… If she’s with Oliver now, why are you here?”
Sophia was puzzled. Roger's typical approach was to pursue what he desired aggressively. Since he was not taking action, it meant that he had given up. If he had given up, then why not leave?
"Sophia, you won’t understand," Roger replied, offering no further explanation.
Indeed, Sophia did not understand. She decided to shift the conversation, hoping to lighten Roger’s mood. She said, “By the way, Natalie made his bracelet herself, saying it’s a gift for a friend and shouldn’t be taken lightly. She’s really amazing. She selected all these beads. Even the shop owner praised her skills.”
Ever since Sophia met Natalie, she had been using words like ‘really amazing’ a lot.
Roger's eyes drifted to the bracelet. Although it might not be valuable, it surpassed any treasure. After all, it was a gift from Natalie, made with her own hands.
"Natalie has always been clever and quick to learn from a young age," Roger said, his voice tinged with pride.
He then touched the pendant resting against his collarbone, tracing the engraved letter with his fingertips. After a moment, he withdrew his hand.
This had become a habit that persisted for years; he wanted to hold it constantly, but he was worried the continuous contact might erode the precious engraved letter.
Sophia asked him why he did not leave earlier. Perhaps he was waiting for Oliver to make a mistake, so he could step in. However, the main reason was to protect her. What if something happened to her in his absence?
…
The dawn of the new year had arrived.
Traditionally, the media would highlight the throngs gathered to hear the square's bells ring in the new year, a figure that astonishingly swelled with each passing year.
Yet, this year, another spectacle drew the city's attention – a magnificent fireworks display in the city's western reaches.
Reported by the media and captured by Paykston's denizens in photos and videos that quickly spread across social networks, speculation arose among the more astute observers that the fireworks originated from a mountain in the west of the city.
The owner of the mountain, where Rosewood Estate was nestled, was none other than Oliver.
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