Chapter 10 - The View from the Third FloorSix months later.
The autumn sun cast a warm, golden glow over the third-floor apartment above the Thai restaurant on Maple Street.
The wobbly kitchen table had finally been replaced by a sturdy, hand-crafted oak dining table. Soft jazz played from a speaker in the corner, and the air smelled of fresh coffee and cinnamon.
Harper sat on the window sill, wearing Owen’s old grey sweatshirt, looking down at the quiet street below.
Owen walked out of the kitchen holding two mugs, sitting beside her and handing her the cup with extra cinnamon.
“You know,” Harper said softly, leaning her head against his shoulder, “we could afford a penthouse downtown now.”
Owen wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close into his chest. “And leave the Thai food scent in the stairwell? Never.”
Harper laughed—a clear, beautiful sound that filled every corner of the room. She turned her face toward his, her dark eyes filled with warmth and unconditional trust.
“Thank you, Owen,” she whispered, reaching up to gently touch his cheek. “For believing me. For fighting for me.”
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Owen leaned down and kissed her—a soft, deep, reassuring kiss that sealed months of fear and unlocked a future built on truth, courage, and a love that no billionaire could ever take away.
Outside, the rain began to fall softly against the glass, but inside the third-floor apartment, they were finally, completely home.
