?Chapter 1213:


    Marc studied Ste’s pale face, anxiety coiling tighter in his gut.


    If William really was alive somewhere… if he suddenly showed up one day…


    Marc couldn’t let himself think about what that would mean. He refused to imagine it.


    The thought slithered through Marc’s mind like a poisonous serpent, burning with jealousy and fear. He couldn’t bear the possibility. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed Ste to be hispletely—so that even if William reappeared one day, it would be toote.


    Seeing the worry shadowing his expression, Ste’s heart softened. She reached out and gently squeezed his hand. “Maybe I’m just exhausted from all the wedding preparations,” she said softly. “It probably has nothing to do with… that person.”


    Hearing that she didn’t seem to remember more, Marc finally exhaled the breath he’d been holding. Relief flickered through him, fragile but real.


    He didn’t know how much longer he could live in this constant dread—but as long as Ste stayed by his side, he would endure anything.


    Over the next few days, Marc’s desire to secure their future only intensified. He began urging Ste to move up the wedding, his persistence cloaked in tenderness.


    One evening, as they sat together on the sofa, he spoke casually—though his tone carried an undercurrent of urgency. “Stel, how about we move the wedding to the end of this month?”


    Ste blinked, surprised. “The end of the month? Isn’t that too soon? We still have so many details to finalize.”


    She hadn’t even chosen the bridesmaids’ dresses or sent out invitations. Marriage was supposed to be one of life’s most important events—it shouldn’t be rushed.


    But Marc took her face gently between his palms, his eyes filled with deep affection—and a trace of desperation.


    “The details don’t matter as much as you do,” he murmured. “When you copsed, it terrified me. I don’t want to wait any longer, Stel. I want to be there to take care of you—as your husband.”


    He leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers, his voice low and trembling with emotion. “Marry me, Stel. Let me give you a home. A real one.”


    He knew what those words meant to her. Ste had lost her adoptive parents, without a family to call her own. For years, she had longed for a ce she could finally belong.


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    His confession—so sincere, so urgent—made her heart ache. Though his request felt sudden, the warmth in his eyes pulled her in.


    She looked up at him, at the love and devotion burning there, and finally nodded.


    “Alright,” she whispered. “Let’s decide on the venue and start preparing everything together.”


    Marc’s tension eased at once. Relief washed over him, so strong he nearly trembled.


    The moment she agreed, he threw himself into preparations with manic focus—and, in secret, reached out once again to Howe.


    “Mr. Briggs,” Marc said through the encrypted line, his tone clipped and cold. “The military’s taken over the core project, but William himself is still a loose end. Find him—before he bes a threat to either of us.”


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