Keeping His Promise
LILIANA’S POV
The second the door closed behind Hardin and Jess, silence stretched thick in the room.
Ronny leaned back against the armrest of the couch, arms folded across his chest, those stormy eyes fixed squarely on me.
My stomach twisted.
Here it comes.
“So…” His voice was casual, almost lazy, but the weight in it made my pulse spike. “What were you and Jess whispering about?”
Shit.
My smile was instant, forced, brittle around the edges. “Oh—uh—nothing important.” I waved a hand like I was brushing it off, even though my insides felt like they were crawling with nerves. “She was just telling me how much of a grumpy man you are.”
His brow arched, sharp and knowing. He didn’t even have to say anything for me to know he didn’t believe me. That look in his eyes was enough—it pinned me down, cut straight through me.
Still, after a beat, he scoffed. “Grumpy, huh?”
I forced a laugh. “Well… she’s not wrong.”
His gaze lingered, steady, assessing. Then he let it go, though the tension in his jaw told me he wasn’t entirely convinced.
I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, my shoulders sagging in relief.
Crisis averted. For now.
But I couldn’t afford for him to find out what Jess told me. Not yet. If I was going to do this, if I was going to make his birthday different—make it special—it had to be a surprise.
I pushed myself up from the couch. “I’m going to get dressed,” I said quickly, not giving him the chance to press me further.
Upstairs, I threw myself into the closet, needing the distraction. My fingers skimmed over fabrics and colors, landing finally on a short pink skirt that hit mid-thigh and a soft blouse that balanced out the sweetness with just enough edge. Sexy, but still professional.
I slipped into it, touched up my makeup with a light hand, and pulled on a pair of glossy black Louboutins that clicked against the hardwood as I stepped out.
Ronny was sitting on the bed but the second his eyes lifted and landed on me, everything else in the world seemed to fade.
His gaze darkened instantly, sweeping over me from head to toe, slow and deliberate. My pulse skipped when he bit his lower lip, his expression somewhere between hunger and approval.
Something triumphant bubbled inside me.
Got him.
But the moment shattered when his voice cut through, low and tense. “Where are you going?”
I blinked, caught. “To the boutique,” I said carefully, smoothing down my skirt.
His laptop was forgotten. He shot to his feet so fast it startled me. “The hell you are.”
I frowned. “Ronny—”
“No.” His voice was sharp, final, the authority in it like a wall slamming down. “You’re not strong enough to be working. And besides—” His jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling as his eyes blazed into mine. “Someone has tried to kill you twice, Liliana. I can’t let you go out there just yet.”
My heart thumped harder, not out of fear, but at the sheer intensity behind his words.
“Ronny, come on.” I tried for lightness, even though the heat in his gaze made my knees feel weak. “Stop being so overprotective. I’ll be fine.”
His voice roughened. “You don’t understand.”
I stepped closer, tilting my chin up at him, refusing to let his fear cage me. “I’ll be fine,” I repeated softly, firmly. “If anything happens, I’ll call you immediately.”
For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Just stared at me like he was trying to memorize me, burn me into his skin, as though letting me out of his sight even for a second might undo him completely.
Then I rose onto my toes, pressed a quick kiss to his lips, and before he could argue again, darted toward the door.
“You’re fucking stubborn!” he growled after me, his voice chasing me down the hall.
I smiled to myself. He was too cute, even when he was furious.
The truth was, I needed to go to the boutique. Not just because Erika was managing everything and I wanted to make sure things were running smoothly—but because I had to start planning. For his birthday. For the surprise that would finally show him how wanted, how loved, he truly was.
By the time I reached the boutique, my nerves had settled. The space smelled like fresh flowers and polished wood, racks of carefully curated designs lining the room in their usual perfect order. Everything was as it should be.
Relief poured through me.
I slipped into my office, the familiar comfort of it wrapping around me. Minutes later, Erika swept in with her usual brightness, carrying a steaming cup of coffee.
“Well, well,” she teased as she set the cup down. “Your overprotective boyfriend finally let you leave the house.”
I smiled despite myself. “He’s not overprotective. He’s just… worried about me.”
Her brow arched as she plopped into the chair opposite me. “Worried? He acts like a guard dog on steroids.”
I found myself bristling, defending him before I could stop myself. “Because he cares. He has every right to be protective after everything that’s happened.”
Erika lifted her hands in mock surrender, grinning. “Alright, alright. Don’t bite my head off. I like him, you know. He’s good for you.”
Before I could respond, the door to my office swung open.
I froze.
My father stood there, his expression thunderous, anger rolling off him in waves.
“What did your boyfriend do?” he demanded.
The air dropped ten degrees. I straightened in my chair, forcing my voice steady. “What are you talking about?”
“The house,” he snapped, his jaw tight. “No one will touch it. Not a single offer. Not even an inquiry.”
His words blurred, fading, because suddenly something warm filled my chest.
Ronny.
He kept his word.
Somehow, in his own quiet, relentless way, he had made sure nobody would buy my mother’s house. He had protected it for me, for her memory.
My throat tightened, emotion burning hot and raw.
I barely heard the rest of my father’s tirade. My heart was too busy clenching, expanding, overwhelmed by what this man—my man—had done for me.
In that moment, the decision crystallized in my chest.
I was going to give him an early birthday present. Something he would never see coming.
Because Ronny might think he wasn’t wanted. That he didn’t deserve to be celebrated. That birthdays meant nothing but pain.
But I was going to prove him wrong.
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