Chapter 10 - This Time, She Chose the Ring
The bullet never reached Selena.
Dempster’s security chief, Marcus Bell, struck Camilla’s arm a fraction of a second before she fired.
The shot buried itself in the ceiling.
Three officers tackled her.
Camilla screamed.
Dempster tried to stand again.
Selena shoved him back into the wheelchair.
“If you tear those stitches, I swear I’ll finish what Serrano started.”
He stared at her.
Then, unbelievably, laughed.
Camilla Flores-Vega was arrested at 9:42 p.m.
The woman who had controlled judges, executives, smugglers, and politicians for nearly three decades left the hospital in handcuffs.
But her final words remained.
Ask your mother who your real father was.
There was one obvious problem.
Dempster’s mother was dead.
Or so everyone believed.
Matthew provided the answer three days later.
He arrived at the hospital carrying an old envelope.
“Our father gave me this before I disappeared.”
Inside was a letter from Isabella Flores.
Dempster read it alone.
Then he gave it to Selena.
Isabella confessed that Dempster was not Alejandro Flores’s biological son.
Years before her marriage, she had loved another man.
A dockworker.
A nobody, according to her wealthy family.
His name was Samuel Vega.
Camilla’s late husband’s brother.
Samuel died before Dempster was born.
Alejandro knew.
He married Isabella anyway.
He raised Dempster as his own.
Selena expected the revelation to destroy him.
Instead, Dempster folded the letter carefully.
“Alejandro was my father.”
Selena nodded.
“Yes.”
“Blood doesn’t change that.”
“No.”
Matthew stood beside him.
“And you’re still my brother.”
Dempster looked at him.
“Unfortunately.”
Matthew laughed.
It was the first easy sound Selena had heard from either Flores brother.
Six months later, federal prosecutors announced sweeping charges connected to Camilla’s organization.
Alidoro pleaded guilty to fraud, conspiracy, and obstruction charges in exchange for cooperation.
Selena never visited him again.
She didn’t need to.
Meridian offered Selena a promotion.
She declined.
Instead, she founded Roundtree Analytics, named after her father.
Her company specialized in detecting financial crime and supply-chain fraud.
Her first major client was Flores International.
Dempster insisted on paying full price.
Selena charged him twenty percent extra for being annoying.
He paid without complaint.
Matthew returned publicly to New York.
Explaining an eleven-year disappearance proved complicated.
His first press conference lasted seven minutes.
He walked away halfway through a reporter’s sixth question.
Dempster called it the proudest moment of his life.
And the mansion changed.
The armed guards remained.
So did the cameras.
But Selena brought plants into rooms that had always looked like museums.
She filled the kitchen with food Dempster had never eaten.
She argued with his chef.
She argued with his decorators.
She argued with Dempster most of all.
And somehow, slowly, Alpine became home.
One September morning, exactly a year after the gala, Selena woke in the same enormous bedroom.
Pale sunlight crossed the sheets.
The black marble fireplace was cold.
Dempster slept beside her.
Selena smiled.
Then looked at her left hand.
Bare.
The emerald-cut diamond sat in a velvet box on her nightstand.
She had stopped wearing it months earlier.
Not because she disliked it.
Because it represented a decision made during a night she couldn’t remember.
Dempster understood.
He never asked her to put it back on.
Selena slipped from bed.
“Where are you going?”
His sleepy voice startled her.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I was until someone stole the blankets.”
“You have seventy percent of them.”
“Propaganda.”
She laughed.
Dempster opened one eye.
“Coffee?”
“I’ll make it.”
His other eye opened.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Keep talking and you’re getting decaf.”
He immediately sat up.
“Cruel woman.”
Selena went downstairs.
On the kitchen counter sat coffee, toast, water, and aspirin.
Exactly like the morning she first woke there.
Beside them was an envelope.
She stopped.
“Dempster?”
No answer.
She opened it.
Inside was the unsigned marriage license from that first night.
And another piece of paper.
One year ago, you woke believing someone else had made a choice for you.
I never want you to feel that way again.
So this choice is yours.
Selena heard footsteps.
She turned.
Dempster stood in the kitchen doorway.
Black pants.
White shirt.
Bare feet.
No guards.
No audience.
No cameras.
He looked nervous.
That alone was astonishing.
Selena looked at the paper.
“What exactly are you asking?”
“I had a speech.”
“What happened to it?”
“You looked at me.”
She smiled.
“Terrifying.”
“Extremely.”
He approached slowly.
He held no ring.
Selena noticed.
“Where’s the diamond?”
“Upstairs.”
“Aren’t you supposed to have one when you do this?”
“I’m not doing anything.”
She frowned.
Dempster stopped in front of her.
“The first ring was chosen while you were drunk. The first marriage was invented to protect you. The first time you entered this house, you didn’t know why you were here.”
His voice softened.
“I won’t build the rest of our life on things you didn’t choose.”
Selena’s eyes filled.
“So I’m not proposing.”
“You’re terrible at romance.”
“I’m discovering that.”
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you the truth.”
He took her hand.
“If you want your apartment in Queens, I’ll help you move today. If you want your own house, buy one. If you want to stay here without marrying me, stay. If you want to leave me entirely…”
His jaw tightened.
“I’ll hate it.”
Selena laughed through tears.
“But I’ll let you go.”
She studied him.
This man had been introduced to her as a monster.
The newspapers called him ruthless.
People whispered mafia boss when he entered rooms.
Yet when she had been helpless, he gave her distance.
When she had been frightened, he gave her information.
When she kissed him, he asked if she was sure.
When she became successful, he never tried to own her success.
And when he loved her, he gave her an exit.
Selena finally understood something Alidoro had spent two years making her forget.
Love wasn’t someone convincing you that you were lucky they tolerated you.
Love was being free to leave and choosing to stay.
She released Dempster’s hand.
His face fell slightly.
“Wait here.”
“Selena—”
“Wait.”
She ran upstairs.
A minute later, she returned.
Dempster was exactly where she left him.
Selena held the velvet box.
She opened it.
The ridiculous emerald-cut diamond caught the morning light.
“Visible from space,” Dempster murmured.
She laughed.
“Apparently drunk Selena had excellent taste.”
“Expensive taste.”
“You’re a billionaire. Survive.”
She removed the ring.
Then she held it toward him.
Dempster stared.
“Put it on me.”
He didn’t move.
“Are you sure?”
Selena smiled.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“That question.”
“What question?”
“The reason I’m saying yes.”
Something broke through his controlled expression.
Dempster took the ring.
Then, unexpectedly, lowered himself onto one knee.
Selena covered her mouth.
“You said you weren’t proposing.”
“I changed my mind.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I’ve been told.”
He looked up.
No criminal empire.
No billionaire arrogance.
No fearsome reputation.
Just a man.
“Selena Roundtree, will you marry me when you are completely sober, painfully argumentative, and fully aware of what an irritating man I am?”
She pretended to consider it.
His eyes narrowed.
“Selena.”
She laughed.
“Yes.”
Dempster slid the ring onto her finger.
This time she watched it happen.
This time she remembered every second.
And this time, it was her choice.
They married three months later.
Small ceremony.
No reporters.
No business partners.
No people Selena secretly hated.
Her mother cried through the entire service.
Matthew served as best man.
Marcus handled security while complaining that weddings were harder than gunfights.
Selena wore exactly the dress she wanted.
She didn’t lose weight for it.
Didn’t order it two sizes smaller for “motivation.”
Didn’t ask whether it made her look thin.
When she stepped into the garden, Dempster simply stared.
Selena raised an eyebrow.
“Problem?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“You’re beautiful.”
She smiled.
“Correct answer.”
During the vows, Dempster leaned closer.
“You realize you’re actually Mrs. Flores now.”
“Technically.”
“Technically?”
“I’m keeping Roundtree professionally.”
He sighed.
“I married a difficult woman.”
“You had multiple opportunities to escape.”
“I know.”
“Too late now.”
“Good.”
Years later, Selena would sometimes wake before him and look at the diamond.
Not because of its size.
Not because of what it cost.
Because she remembered two mornings.
On the first, she woke terrified that a powerful man had claimed her.
On the second, she chose him.
There was a difference between possession and love.
Between being wanted and being valued.
Between someone putting a ring on your hand—
and holding out his hand long enough for you to decide whether to take it.
May you like
Selena took his.
And never regretted it.
