Chapter 305

Serena’s POV

I was officially back on my feet after two grueling weeks of recovery. The bullet wound still twinged occasionally when I moved too quickly, but the constant pain had subsided to a manageable ache. I could finally breathe without feeling like someone was stabbing my side.

"Are you absolutely certain you’re ready to travel?" Mom fussed over me in my childhood bedroom at the Quinn estate, watching me pack with worried eyes. "The doctor said—"

"The doctor cleared me three days ago," I reminded her gently, folding another silk blouse into my suitcase. "I’m healing perfectly. No complications."

She sighed, smoothing down the bedspread for the fifth time. "New York is so far away."

I paused my packing and took her hands in mine. "I know. I’ll miss you too. But I have responsibilities there, and Ryan..."

"Ryan hasn’t left your side for more than an hour since the shooting," Mom said, a reluctant smile touching her lips. "That man loves you fiercely."

I couldn’t help the warmth spreading through my chest at her words. "He does. And I love him."

"I just found you again," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "It feels too soon to let you go."

"You’re not letting me go," I promised, hugging her carefully. "I’m just going home. We’ll visit often, and you and Dad have an open invitation to stay with us anytime."

A knock at the door interrupted us. Ryan stood there, looking unfairly handsome in dark jeans and a charcoal cashmere sweater.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said, his eyes softening when they landed on me. "Ethan sent me to tell you the caterers have arrived for the farewell party."

Mom wiped her eyes quickly and patted my cheek. "I’ll go make sure they’re setting up correctly. Your father will undoubtedly be interrogating the poor bartender about the quality of the scotch."

After she left, Ryan crossed to me, wrapping his arms around my waist with careful gentleness. "How’s the packing going?"

"Almost done," I said, leaning back against his chest. "Though my mother seems convinced I’m one wrong move away from falling apart."

"Can you blame her?" Ryan pressed a kiss to the side of my neck. "You terrified all of us."

I turned in his arms, looking up at him. Those dark, sleepless shadows that had lingered under his eyes for days after the shooting had finally faded. "I’m okay now. Really."

"I know." He touched his forehead to mine. "But I reserve the right to be overprotective for at least another month."

"Only a month?" I teased, smoothing my hands up his chest.

"Two, then." His lips quirked. "Final offer."

I laughed, rising on tiptoes to kiss him. What started as gentle quickly deepened, his hands sliding into my hair as he backed me carefully against the dresser.

"Ryan," I breathed against his mouth. "We have guests arriving."

"Mmm," he hummed, trailing kisses down my throat. "They can wait."

A pointed cough from the doorway made us spring apart like guilty teenagers. Ethan stood there, eyebrows raised.

"If you two could postpone the honeymoon activities until after the party," he said dryly, "Grandmother is asking for Serena."

Ryan sighed, stepping back but keeping his hand at my waist. "We’ll be right down."

The Quinn estate’s expansive gardens had been transformed for our farewell gathering. Fairy lights twinkled in the trees as twilight descended, and tables laden with exquisite food and drink dotted the manicured lawn. Family members and close friends mingled, champagne glasses in hand.

"There’s our warrior princess!" Uncle James boomed, pulling me into a gentle hug. "How’s the battle wound?"

"Healing nicely," I assured him, accepting the glass of sparkling water Ryan handed me. I was still on medication that didn’t mix well with alcohol.

For the next two hours, we made our rounds, accepting well-wishes and goodbyes. Maya and Ethan, who would be traveling back to New York with us tomorrow, were surrounded by Maya’s tearful family.

"They’re acting like New York is on another planet, not just a eight-hour flight away," Maya said when she joined us, rolling her eyes fondly.

"Mothers," I said sympathetically, glancing at my own mom who was still watching me like I might collapse at any second.

Grandmother Quinn eventually cornered me by the rose garden, her sharp eyes missing nothing. "You look well, Serena. Much better than when you were in that dreadful hospital bed."

"Thank you, Grandmother." I smiled at the formidable matriarch of the Quinn family. Despite her stern exterior, she’d visited me daily in the hospital, reading aloud from classic novels while I drifted in and out of sleep.

"That husband of yours," she said, nodding toward Ryan who was deep in conversation with my father across the lawn, "he’s proven himself worthy of you."

Coming from Grandmother Quinn, this was the highest possible praise.

"I think so too," I said softly.

"He was a man possessed when you were injured. Wouldn’t leave your side, threatened to buy the entire hospital when a nurse suggested he step out during your examination." Her eyes twinkled. "Reminds me of your grandfather when I had pneumonia in ’78."

My heart warmed at the comparison. Grandfather Quinn had adored his wife with legendary devotion until his dying day.

"I’m glad you found each other again," she continued, patting my hand. "Don’t waste a moment of it, dear girl. Life is too short and too precious."

The party began winding down as the evening grew later. I found myself growing tired, the day’s activities taking their toll on my still-healing body.

Ryan noticed immediately, materializing at my side during a conversation with Eliza. "You need to rest," he murmured in my ear, his arm sliding supportively around my waist.

I started to protest but couldn’t stifle a yawn. "Maybe you’re right."

We made our goodbyes, promising to see everyone for breakfast before our flight tomorrow. My parents hugged me extra tight, and Dad whispered, "We’re so proud of you, sweetheart," in my ear.

Instead of heading up to my bedroom at the estate, Ryan surprised me by leading me to his waiting car.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he helped me into the passenger seat.

"I thought we might spend our last night here somewhere private," he said with a mysterious smile, sliding behind the wheel.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to The Windsor, the most luxurious hotel in the area. As we stepped into the elegant lobby, I raised an eyebrow at Ryan. "When did you arrange this?"

"I have my ways," he said, guiding me toward the elevator.

The Presidential Suite took my breath away—a sprawling space with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city lights. But what truly stunned me was the trail of rose petals leading from the entrance to the bedroom, where dozens of candles cast a warm, golden glow.

"Ryan," I breathed, taking in the champagne on ice (and sparkling cider for me), the platter of chocolate-dipped strawberries, the turned-down bed scattered with more rose petals.

"Too much?" he asked, suddenly looking uncertain.

I turned to him, emotion swelling in my chest. "It’s perfect."

Relief softened his features as he stepped closer, his hands coming to rest lightly on my hips. "The doctor said you were cleared for... all activities," he murmured, his eyes darkening. "But if you’re not ready—"

I silenced him with a kiss, pressing my body against his. "I’m ready," I whispered against his lips.

His control snapped. In seconds, I was in his arms as he carried me to the bed, laying me down with exquisite care among the rose petals. His eyes never left mine as he slowly unbuttoned my blouse, pushing the fabric aside to reveal the healing scar on my side.

Ryan’s expression turned solemn as he traced the mark with gentle fingers. "I almost lost you," he said hoarsely.

"But you didn’t," I reminded him, pulling him down for another kiss. "I’m right here."

He kissed me deeply, his hands moving reverently over my body like he was memorizing every inch. I tugged at his sweater, needing to feel his skin against mine, and he quickly stripped it off, followed by the rest of our clothes.

"Beautiful," he whispered, hovering above me, his eyes drinking me in. "So beautiful."

When he finally joined our bodies, the pleasure was almost overwhelming after weeks apart. I gasped his name, clinging to his shoulders as he moved with careful restraint, mindful of my healing wound.

"I’m not made of glass," I breathed in his ear, urging him closer. "I won’t break."

Something fierce and possessive flashed in his eyes. "Mine," he growled, deepening his movements but still maintaining that edge of control that drove me wild.

Afterward, he held me against his chest, his heartbeat strong beneath my ear. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my bare shoulder as we lay in comfortable silence.

"I love you," he murmured into my hair. "God, Serena, I love you so much it terrifies me sometimes."

I lifted my head to meet his gaze, seeing the raw vulnerability there. "I love you too. Always."

Tomorrow we would return to New York, to our life together and whatever challenges awaited us there. But tonight was just for us.