Julian didn’t give Sophia a chance to protest. With a firm yet gentle grip, he took her hand, leading her toward the car. His touch was warm, reassuring—steady, just like the man himself. The entire drive, she could feel her heart pounding, anticipation swirling in her chest, yet he remained silent, his expression unreadable save for the small, knowing smile that played at his lips.
When they finally arrived, Julian stepped out first, moving around to open the door for her with effortless grace. The moment she placed her hand in his, he guided her forward, their steps in sync, as if moving to an unspoken rhythm.
Then, as they stepped inside, everything stopped.
Sophia gasped, her breath hitching the instant her eyes landed on the massive, elegantly lit sign above the grand entrance.
The Sophia Imperial.
Her heart clenched. Her knees nearly gave out.
This—this was the place she had been thinking about before. The place where their journey had truly begun. The place where the first seeds of ambition, struggle, and love had been sown.
A rush of emotions surged through her, too overwhelming to contain. Before she could stop herself, a single tear slipped down her cheek.
Julian chuckled softly, the sound deep and rich. His fingers brushed against her skin, tenderly wiping the tear away with the pad of his thumb.
“I haven’t even started yet,” he murmured, his gaze locking onto hers, teasing yet warm.
A breathy, choked laugh escaped her, shaking her head as she blinked away the rest of her tears. Just like always, he knew exactly how to disarm her.
But instead of leading her to the wedding reception like she expected, Julian took a different path. One she knew all too well.
The moment she stepped into the hotel’s garden, nostalgia crashed over her like a tidal wave. The scent of fresh blooms, the quiet hum of the night, the soft glow of lanterns scattered across the pathways—it was as if time had folded in on itself, bringing her right back to the past.
And then she saw it.
The bench.
Their bench.
The very place where she had first pursued him, where their dance had begun all those years ago.
Sophia swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of memory. But before she could find her voice, Julian turned to face her, his expression shifting to something unreadable.
Then, with effortless grace, he dropped to one knee.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The world around them blurred, everything fading except for the man in front of her. The way he took her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in that way that had always made her heart stutter.
“I know,” Julian said, his voice steady, rich with emotion, “that you were the one who pursued me first.”
His lips curled into a smirk, eyes glinting with mischief. “And I also know that you’ve already scheduled our wedding day—”
Sophia let out a teary laugh, shaking her head.
“—but this time, it’s from me,” he continued, the teasing light in his gaze softening into something raw, something real.
His grip tightened ever so slightly, his voice dipping lower. “I want to marry you, Sophia. Not because it’s expected. Not because we’ve built so much together. But because I choose you—today, tomorrow, and for the rest of my life.”
Sophia could no longer hold back the tears. They spilled freely as she nodded, her entire body trembling with happiness.
Julian slid the ring onto her finger—an elegant, dazzling piece that caught the soft glow of the garden lights. Before she could even admire it, she was in his arms, burying herself in his warmth, in the safety of the only place she had ever truly belonged.
And just when she thought she had reached the peak of her emotions, Julian whispered against her ear, “There’s one more thing.”
He stood, guiding her toward the newly rebuilt hotel’s reception hall.
The moment they stepped inside, Sophia’s breath hitched again.
The hall was breathtaking—an exquisite blend of modern luxury and cutting-edge technology. Towering crystal chandeliers hung from a ceiling embedded with interactive LED displays, casting shifting hues that reflected the ambiance of the night. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows revealed the stunning city skyline, while polished marble floors gleamed beneath the golden light.
At the far end of the hall, a massive digital screen flickered to life, displaying a carefully curated slideshow.
Their memories.
Snapshots of their past, from late-night brainstorming sessions to their first successes. The struggles, the triumphs, the moments in between—captured and immortalized for all to see.
Julian leaned in, his lips brushing her temple. “Now do you see?” he whispered. “This isn’t just a place, Sophia. It’s our story. And I want to keep writing it—with you.”
Overcome, Sophia turned to him, her vision blurred with happy tears. Words failed her, so she did the only thing that made sense—she kissed him.
Julian let out a strained chuckle, his voice laced with playful frustration. “Sophia,” he murmured, breath uneven as her body pressed against his, “if you keep holding me like this, I might just lose all control.”
Sophia pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh?” she teased, fingers grazing his chest. “And what exactly would happen if you did?”
Julian exhaled sharply, gripping her waist just a little tighter. But instead of answering, he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. When he spoke again, his voice was different—softer, filled with something deeper than desire.
“Our wedding is just a few days away, love,” he murmured. “What’s the rush? Let’s do this right. After we stand together, in front of everyone, and make our vows… you’ll be mine forever.”
Sophia gazed up at him, her heart racing—not from teasing, not from attraction, but from the overwhelming love she saw reflected in his eyes. Julian didn’t love her for what she could give him. He didn’t love her for her success or her place beside him.
He loved her.
Just her.
And in that moment, she knew—there was no one else she would ever want.
Later that night, Julian arranged for Sophia to stay in Room 1703 while he took 1702, just as they had years ago. As she stepped inside, the nostalgia was instant.
Smiling, she turned back to Julian and playfully echoed her own words from their very first night in this hotel. “Oh, and my room number is 1703. It’s near yours. Just knock if you need something… or message.”
Her voice was casual, but Julian caught the playful glint in her eyes. Amused, he stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.
“You really haven’t changed,” he murmured, his voice thick with warmth.
And with that, he left her standing there, heart fluttering, just like it had back then.
Only this time, she knew—this wasn’t the past repeating itself.
This was the future they were stepping into, together.