From Broken to Beloved-Chapter 98- Be with me

The tears Marylin had been holding back finally spilled over. They were tears of happiness—sweet, joyful tears.

What Karl had said about the red rose and the white rose moved her deeply.

It also left the stunned ex standing nearby utterly humiliated. In his past relationship with Marylin, there had indeed been a white rose at home and a red rose elsewhere.

And now Karl had said that whether white or red, there was only one rose in his heart—her.

Everyone who knew about Marylin’s past with that man seemed to witness an invisible slap land squarely across the ex’s face. The man who had come hoping to "catch up" with her stumbled backward a few steps in disgrace, then turned and left.

Of course, Marylin noticed none of it.

At that moment, there was only Karl in her eyes.

She handed the bouquet to a friend beside her, then stepped forward through her tears, overwhelmed with joy, and took the ring from Karl.

"I do!" she declared loudly. "I truly do!"

Yes—she said it loudly, wanting everyone to hear the sound of her happiness, wishing even the whole world could know how happy she was.

This was the true taste of love—deep, intense, and tender beyond words.

The ring was exquisite: flame-shaped, set with a dazzling ruby. On Marylin’s fair, slender finger, it fit as though it had always belonged there.

Karl rose to his feet and pulled Marylin—her face wet with tears—into his arms, kissing her deeply.

Her friends erupted into heartfelt applause, while the two guests who had originally come hoping to see Marylin’s downfall quietly slipped away after witnessing such a grand proposal.

When the kiss ended, Karl wrapped an arm around Marylin and addressed the remaining guests.

"When the wedding takes place, you’re all welcome to Burg Eltz. I’ll cover the flights and accommodation."

His generosity sparked another wave of applause and cheers. Held securely in his arms, Marylin felt nothing but dizzying happiness and sweetness.

To love a man like this—and to be loved by him in return—she had no regrets in this lifetime.

Later, Marylin got drunk. She was simply too happy.

Back at the hotel, she looped her arms around Karl’s neck, pressing against him as she asked with a tipsy smile,

"Where did the ring and the dress come from?"

Karl lowered his head, looking at her with indulgent affection.

"I asked Bert and his designers to make them. The designer said our love was brilliant like fire, so she created this shape."

Marylin lifted her hand high, squinting at the ring with a blissful, slightly drunken smile.

"That’s such a beautiful meaning. I love it so much. When we get back, let’s take her out for dinner."

"Alright..." Karl replied softly, before leaning down to kiss her wine-sweet lips—slow, lingering, and tender.

Karl could feel her joy clearly. Her happiness lifted his spirits, and with his proposal successful and the woman he loved in his arms, his mood soared even higher.

For Marylin, everything about being with Karl felt like a dream—so much joy, so much happiness, so many surprises. Yet no matter what she felt, because she was experiencing it all with him, she cherished every moment.

She had never known love could feel like this—free, wholehearted, and utterly consuming.

Karl’s proposal was a success. Meanwhile, back in Burg Eltz, Bert’s welcome party also went smoothly. After eating and drinking through lunch, everyone gathered again in the afternoon at Bert’s luxurious home theater to sing and celebrate, only dispersing when the sun dipped low in the evening.

Many assumed Bert’s aloof and eccentric personality meant he disliked such lively occasions. In truth, he enjoyed them—he simply wasn’t good at participating. Even at a grand party he had organized himself, he spent most of the time standing aside, watching his employees have fun.

He liked the liveliness.

Perhaps he had been lonely for too long in the first half of his life. Perhaps age had softened him. Either way, he found himself increasingly drawn to the warmth of crowds, to the feeling of having people around him.

For the first thirty-six years of his life, everything had been bleak and unsuccessful—no family, no love, no friendship. Now, at this stage of life, he found himself yearning for those things at last, and choosing to nurture them with care.

He only hoped... it wasn’t too late.

His gaze settled on Catherine, who was chatting and laughing with Silvia and the others not far away. Her gentle nature made her far more suited to such occasions. The employees naturally gravitated toward her, chatting, laughing, even joking freely.

Very few dared to approach him—except seasoned professionals like Amy.

But his feelings of happiness didn’t matter. As long as she was happy, that was enough.

After the banquet ended, they stood at the entrance to see off their colleagues. Soon, the vast villa was left with only Catherine and Bert. Bert glanced at her and said,

"Come on. I’ll drive you home."

Thinking of the mess inside the house, Catherine looked at him and spoke up on her own initiative.

"I’ll help you tidy up before I go."

With so many people eating and drinking, the place must be in chaos. Cleaning it up would be exhausting. He’d been up early and busy all day preparing such a lively welcome banquet—if he still had to deal with this afterward, he’d surely be worn out.

Bert stopped and looked at her, his eyes filled with a meaningful smile.

"Are you sure you want to stay and help me clean up? It’s getting pretty late."

His "kind" reminder instantly left Catherine feeling embarrassed. That was true—if she stayed to clean, it would definitely take a long time. The villa was quite far from the city, too. Surely she couldn’t stay the night here?

That wouldn’t be appropriate.

Besides, Renata probably wouldn’t agree to that either. Catherine quickly lowered her head and went back inside to gather her things.

Bert followed her in and explained gently from behind,

"I’ve already called two housekeepers. They’ll be here soon to take care of everything, so you don’t have to worry about me getting tired."

Catherine spun around at once, flustered and annoyed, glaring at him.

"Who said I was worried about you getting tired?"

Then, to change the subject, she hurriedly pulled the book she had borrowed from him out of her bag and handed it to him.

"I’ve finished reading it. Here—returning it to you."

Bert lowered his gaze to the stack of books in her hands. After taking them from her, he raised an eyebrow and asked,

"Would you like to read something else?"

Catherine nodded, a little embarrassed. His collection was simply too extensive—especially the design books. Many of them were far beyond what someone with her financial means could ever buy. She felt ravenous for knowledge.

"I actually have a great idea," Bert said unhurriedly. "One that would let you read every book here."

Catherine looked at him in confusion.

"What idea?"

"Be with me. Become the mistress of this house. Then you can read whatever you want, whenever you want. Everything I own will be yours to use as you please—my wealth, my power... and me."

Bert lifted his arm and wrapped it around Catherine’s waist, his low, pleasant voice flowing slowly into her ear.

The words came too suddenly, and they were far too heavy. Catherine almost felt crushed by them.

This was a promise of a lifetime. Yet she still needed courage just to accept his feelings—how could she dare imagine an entire future?

And that line—even I belong to you—felt far too ambiguous.

Could she just take his books?

She didn’t want his wealth or his power.

She didn’t want him, either...

Pushing him away, she picked up her bag and said,

"It’s getting late. Let’s go."

Once again, Catherine chose to retreat.

She truly needed time to calm down and think through her relationship with Bert. And she truly needed enough courage before she could accept a love like his.

In her eyes, there were too many things about them that made no sense. Why her? What exactly did he see in her? How could he have developed feelings for someone of her background in such a short time? And how could he be so firm, so quick, to speak of marriage?

These were questions Catherine couldn’t figure out. She wanted answers—but the exhaustion seeping into her body told her that today was not the day to ask them.

After such a long, hectic day, they were both tired. They’d been up early and busy nonstop. Even someone with Bert’s stamina felt worn out—let alone Catherine.

So in the face of her retreat, Bert didn’t force anything. He simply let her go upstairs, brought down a few more books for her, and then drove her home.

"Today was tiring. Get some rest," he said to her downstairs.

"Mm."

After responding, Catherine added,

"Don’t drive back out of the city. Just stay here for the night."

"Alright."

The corners of Bert’s lips lifted slightly. He liked this feeling—of being remembered, of being cared for.

Though she hadn’t given him a clear answer to his confession, he could still feel her affection.

Embarrassed by his smile, Catherine hurriedly said goodbye, opened the door, and stepped out of the car with her belongings.

She was still wearing the pale lavender knitted outfit he had given her, layered beneath her own coat. A soft fragrance lingered around her, her figure graceful as she moved.

Only after watching her go upstairs did Bert finally drive away.