"Isn't that my gift?"
Janet pulled his hand away and pointed out the window with a radiant smile.
Outside, brilliant fireworks bloomed across the Parisian night sky like scattered stars, illuminating the glass and casting soft light into the room.
To her, it wasn't the grandeur that mattered. It was the thought, the effort. Unlike other women who longed for glittering jewels or designer handbags, Janet's heart ached only for a simple, sincere blessing—something so basic, yet so out of reach in her past life. From her so-called family—her father and sister who shared her blood—she'd never received even that.
"Janet..."
Sensing the sudden sadness in her smile, Charles pulled her into a tight embrace. The evening breeze lifted her long hair, brushing gently across his face. His heart stirred.
"Then… how about I give myself to you?"
