25. Ariana

CHAPTER 25

ARIANA

V alen and I sit on the plush sofa in his study, the soft hum of the estate’s security systems in the background. The warmth from the fireplace bathes the room in a cozy glow. I trace a finger along the edge of my teacup, gathering my thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking about the local school,” I start, glancing at Valen. His green eyes meet mine, filled with that unreadable intensity.

He nods, encouraging me to continue. “It’s in terrible shape,” I say. “The building’s practically falling apart. The kids deserve better.”

Valen leans back, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You’re right,” he agrees. “What do you propose?”

I exhale, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. “We could fund some repairs. Maybe patch up the roof, fix the windows…”

Valen shakes his head, surprising me. “No.”

“No?” I repeat, trying to mask my shock and disappointment.

“Funding repairs is a temporary solution,” he explains, his voice calm but firm. “This should be a community effort led by the local government. We need them involved to ensure long-term sustainability.”

I mull over his words, realizing he has a point. “So what do we do?”

“We petition the government,” he says with a determined glint in his eye. “We rally support from the community and push for a brand new school building. And we don’t stop there—we make sure they hire more teachers and provide better resources.”

A slow smile spreads across my face as his plan takes shape in my mind. “You think they’ll listen?”

“They will if we make enough noise,” Valen says confidently. "And if they want my endorsement, which they do."

I can’t help but laugh softly at his unwavering certainty. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Simple? No,” he says with a smirk. “Necessary? Absolutely.”

We spend the next hour outlining our plan, brainstorming ways to garner support from the local community leaders and residents alike. Valen suggests hosting town hall meetings and using his connections to apply pressure on the government officials.

“And what about involving some of your high-profile guests?” I suggest. “They might have influence or resources that could help. Sure their kids go to private school, but they need to feel some sort of investment in this place by now.”

“Smart thinking,” he acknowledges with an approving nod.

By the time we finish, my heart feels lighter with renewed hope for Armstrong’s future.

“Thank you,” I say softly, placing my hand on his arm.

“For what?”

“For believing this can work,” I reply.

He covers my hand with his own, his touch warm and reassuring. “I believe in us.”

“Speaking of us…” I begin, feeling a slight flutter in my stomach. “What do you think about turning this estate into a shared home? Something that reflects both of us.”

Valen’s eyes light up, a rare softness replacing his usual brooding intensity. “I was waiting for you to ask.”

“You were?” I blink, taken aback by his readiness. “I thought you’d be more possessive about your space.”

He chuckles, a low sound that sends a shiver down my spine. “This place has always felt like a fortress. I want it to feel like home—for both of us.”

I can’t help but smile at his openness. “Well, for starters, the bedroom could use a cozier touch. Maybe some softer colors, warmer lighting… and more plants.”

“Plants?” His eyebrow arches skeptically.

“Yes, plants,” I insist with a laugh. “They make a space feel alive.”

He nods slowly. “I like that idea. What else?”

I take a deep breath, feeling more confident. “We could rework the layout to create more intimate spaces. Reading nooks, maybe an area where we can just sit and talk.”

He leans closer, his green eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat. “As long as this place is safe and comfortable for you, I’m happy.”

“Comfortable?” I echo, feeling the warmth of his words settle in my chest.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “Your safety and comfort are my top priorities.”

His sincerity disarms me, making me feel both vulnerable and cherished at the same time. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“For what?”

“For letting me in,” I say softly.

Valen reaches out and gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch is tender yet possessive, sending a rush of warmth through me.

“You’re not just in,” he murmurs, his voice low and serious. “You’re here to stay.”

The town hall is packed, the air thick with the murmurs of anxious parents and the occasional cough. The mayor sits at the front, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. Valen stands beside me, his presence a steady anchor in the chaotic room.

A woman with tired eyes and a voice strained from overuse steps forward. “We’ve been teaching without books or tools for months,” she says, her voice cracking. “The children deserve better.”

There’s a murmur of agreement from the crowd. I glance at Valen, who gives me a small nod. It’s my turn.

I rise from my seat and make my way to the front, feeling dozens of eyes on me. “My name is Ariana,” I begin, my voice clear but warm. “I’ve lived here all my life, and I’ve seen this community struggle to rebuild.”

The crowd quiets, their attention focused on me.

“I commissioned an architect to draw up plans for a new school,” I continue, holding up a set of blueprints. “A sustainable building that will educate every child in this district—and eventually, they could be built in every district on Armstrong.”

I unfold the blueprints on a nearby table, revealing detailed drawings of classrooms, playgrounds, and green spaces. Gasps ripple through the room.

“This is what our children deserve,” I say firmly. “A place where they can learn and grow in safety and comfort.”

The mayor shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Every child in the district, that would take hiring more teachers. And who’s going to fund this project?” he asks, a hint of skepticism in his tone.

Valen smirks. “You are,” he replies smoothly. “With our help.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence before someone in the crowd speaks up. “We need this school!”

Another voice joins in. “Our kids can’t wait any longer!”

The room erupts into applause and shouts of agreement. The mayor looks around helplessly before finally nodding.

“Alright,” he concedes reluctantly. “We’ll move forward with the plans.”

I turn to Valen, my heart swelling with pride and gratitude. He meets my gaze with a rare smile that reaches his eyes.

“You did it,” he murmurs.

“We did it,” I correct him softly.

He chuckles and pulls me into a brief but fierce hug. As we step back, I can’t help but feel a surge of hope for Armstrong’s future—and for us.

Together, we face the cheering crowd, ready to build something beautiful out of the ruins of our pasts.

Valen and I linger outside the town hall, watching families play with their small children. The evening sun casts long shadows, and the sound of laughter fills the air. I feel a tug in my heart as I watch a little girl chase after a ball, her giggles infectious.

Ever since I was small, I knew I wanted kids of my own. I wanted to be just like my own mom. But adulthood hit me hard and fast, and in the remnants of war I couldn't see myself bringing new life into this misery. I especially couldn't see myself having a child with Kevin.

But with Valen…

“Ever thought about having kids?” Valen asks suddenly, his tone casual but his eyes serious.

I blink, taken aback by the question. “Yes,” I admit, my voice soft. “I always dreamed of being a mother.”

He nods thoughtfully, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Good to know I’m not alone in that,” he says. “I didn’t have the best role models growing up, but I think I could be a father someday.”

My heart skips a beat at his words. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirms. “Might take some practice, though.”

I laugh, feeling a warmth spread through me. “Well, practice makes perfect, right?”

Valen chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Let’s see what the future holds.”

I watch him for a moment, marveling at how far we’ve come. From the brooding enigma who hosted lavish parties to the man standing beside me now—open, honest, and willing to build a future together.

“I’ve always wanted more than one,” I say quietly.

“More than one what?” he asks with a teasing grin.

“Child,” I clarify with an eye roll. “Though you might have to work on your dad jokes.”

He laughs again, a deep, genuine sound that makes my heart swell. “Duly noted,” he says with mock seriousness.

We fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the families begin to disperse. The little girl with the ball runs back to her mother, who scoops her up in a hug.

“Look at them,” I murmur, my voice filled with wonder.

Valen follows my gaze and nods slowly. “We’ll have that one day,” he says with quiet conviction.

I turn to him, my eyes searching his face for any hint of doubt. But all I see is sincerity and determination.

“We’re building something real here,” he continues. “Not just for us, but for everyone on Armstrong.”

I reach out and take his hand in mine, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. “Together?”

“Together,” he agrees.

We stand there for a while longer, hand in hand, watching as the last of the families head home. The future feels bright and full of promise—a stark contrast to the ruins we’ve both emerged from.

As we finally turn to leave, I feel content knowing that Valen and I are building something stable and beautiful together—a future filled with love, hope, and endless possibilities.