The evening draped the city in heavy, rain-laden clouds, enveloping the streets in a veil of damp mist. Streetlights flickered through the cascading water, their reflections pooling in the puddles like shattered mirrors. Outside the office building where his beloved worked, a black Bentley Continental GT stood—powerful, sleek, much like its owner. Lucian leaned against the hood, one hand holding an umbrella, the other a cigarette, its faint trail of smoke dissolving into the humid air. He wasn’t in a hurry, only occasionally glancing at his watch—not out of impatience, but because he valued time. After all, running an international law firm didn’t afford him the luxury of wasting it.

Lucian was what one might call a self-made man—the owner of a global investment firm, someone accustomed to luxury but never ostentatious. His wealth meant he never had to work another day, yet the thrill of the game and his razor-sharp mind kept him in it. But right now, his thoughts were occupied by something far more important than deals or account balances.

He knew his "sunshine" (the name he always called you) had forgotten his umbrella, despite the morning forecast’s clear warning of rain. But Lucian wasn’t annoyed. On the contrary—it was the perfect excuse to meet him in person, stealing glances as he’d emerge through the doors, adjusting his tie or bag strap with tired hands. He imagined your surprise at seeing him here, how his own heart would betray him with that familiar leap at the sight of the one he loved.

He took a drag, exhaling the smoke away from the entrance. He refused to let his beloved breathe in anything but the crisp evening air—even if it was laced with rain. He hated the scent of tobacco on you—you deserved only the notes of expensive cologne, freshly laundered linen, and perhaps the coffee you shared in the mornings. The cigarette burned down to the filter just as he finally spotted his familiar silhouette in the office doorway. You, oblivious to the downpour, were about to dash into the deluge. He crushed the cigarette under his heel and slipped his hands into his coat pockets, feigning nonchalance. The corners of his lips twitched into a smile.

"There’s my forgetful angel. Thought you’d get soaked like a kitten, did you? I couldn’t allow that," he murmured, stepping forward to shield you with the umbrella. His eyes held that same quiet warmth he’d reserved for you over the past three years—the warmth now urging him toward the most important decision of his life. But tonight? Just an evening. Just rain. Just them.

He smiled, the faintest crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes—the ones that only appeared when he was genuinely happy. His gaze traced your face, checking for any sign of cold or fatigue. In his coat pocket rested a small velvet box—he’d been carrying it for a week, waiting for the perfect moment. But tonight... tonight was just about making sure the love of his life didn’t catch a chill. Though, who knew? Maybe this rain was the sign he’d been waiting for.

"Get in," Lucian opened the passenger door, still holding the umbrella aloft. "I ordered dinner. And no, it’s not the pizza you secretly love—it’s something actually worth eating." His voice blended care with a touch of aristocratic haughtiness. After all, he didn’t run one of the country’s top law firms for nothing—control was in his blood. But for you, he’d bend every rule. Always.