Ariana’s POV
Three Years Later
The auditorium was alive with noise—applause, cheers, and proud tears. But for me, everything blurred into the background. My eyes found only one thing: Roman, sitting in the front row, our three-year-old son against his chest.
He looked breathtaking, as always. Dark suit, broad shoulders, and that controlled calmness that had always made him seem untouchable. But not today. Today, his eyes glistened with the softest pride, a pride that belonged not to Roman Sinclair, the powerful businessman, but to Roman, my husband, my everything.
Our little boy—Ethan—squirmed in his arms, his tiny hands tugging at Roman’s tie. Roman smiled down at him, that rare, unguarded smile that melted me every single time. He kissed Ethan’s hair and then lifted his gaze back to
