Every corner of London sparkles in the name of Christmas. The streets are adorned with twinkling lights, seemingly brighter than the starry night if the sun disappears. I can't stop grinning as we ride smoothly to Central London for dinner.

"Mmm, it's so beautiful being out here," I murmur before catching a long breath of vigor, shifting my attention back to my husband. "Eleanor says we should have the new year celebration at your old house. It looks like she really misses being there."

"Me, too," Liam replies after a few moments of thoughtfulness. Nostalgia flits across his face as he smiles indulgently at me. "It was spectacular. I miss the times she was with father and that smile she wore all the times he'd tease her. Sometimes I feel like she's trying too hard to repress her grief just not to hurt me."

I think I believe him.

"How long since he passed?" I ask softly.

Liam's lips harden. "Over a year now," he answers anyway.

My God, it's not that long. Now I can understand why it's still a sensitive subject for both Liam and his mother. They hardly talk about the late Mr. Darcy, but it's evident how much they cherish his memory. I feel the love they both had for him and it's palpable.

I honestly want to hear more about him. I wish to at least know what kind of a man he was, as a father to Liam, as a husband to Eleanor, and just as a human being with an exceptional heart. He took my husband as his own son, after all, and that is very noble.

"We're here," Liam announces coolly as we arrive at the restaurant.

"I see." My eyes wander outside through the window.

Even though it's cold, nobody seems bothered by the claws of winter. So many people are buzzing around the area, walking in pairs, groups, or solo, and their smiles feel like the warmth they all feel during this season.

We head inside the restaurant and it appears that we already have a reservation. The maître d' leads us to our table straight away. A fireplace, soft music in the background, and the terrific smell of food draw my best grin as we slowly take a seat.

The place feels intimate, cozy, and warm, but the elegance embedded in its vintage interiors explains why most people here look ritzy. We order our food and wine, in which I'm allowed to have a small amount from time to time so as to not affect the medication.

And today is decidedly that day where I can have at least a half a glass.

"You're going to finish everything, Kira." Liam slides the plate of well-sliced steak he's just done for me. "Including this velvet cake you've been talking about the whole way here." He slides another plate of dessert.

"Gosh! All of this?" I blink at the sight.

Liam nods. "That's what you get for skipping lunch, Mrs. Darcy. Your health is important and it seems like I have another task in my already busy schedule of reminding you about that."

I chuckle, not knowing how else to respond. "I see we're back to Mr. Intense mode?" I take a bite of my stake.

"You bet we are." Liam smirks and I purse my lips at him. "If you finish everything I'll take you to a movie."

"Really?" Like a child I nearly bounce up and down from excitement.

"Yes, Kira." Liam chuckles at my reaction, taking a bite of his steak unhurriedly. "And we can go ice skating afterwards. If time allows."

Ice-skating, too? Woah!

"Alright. I'm wiping everything!" I say urgently, and our meal goes on in such a style, between talking and teasing each other.

Liam clears the bill about one hour later, and we're good to go.

"Done?" he asks as I finish wiping my mouth with a napkin. I nod. "Good. Let's go."

"Movie, right?" I ask for a third time, trying to make sure if our arrangements are still valid.

Liam chuckles as we stand up, but suddenly his face darkens when a certain old lady approaches our way. Automatically, my gaze glides between the two, bemused, and I can feel the tension they both exude. Who is she? I frown.

"No wonder I was hesitant to come to this place," the old lady mutters with pure disdain.

She's talking to Liam, whose disposition is currently indescribable. He looks tense, uncomfortable, and somewhat . . . angry? I try hard to understand by moving right beside him.

"Long time no see. I can tell you're in good health," Liam remarks coolly and reverently, his face mirthless.

The old woman smirks. She is short and plump, elegantly dressed in a seemingly expensive designer suit, resembling a dowager duchess. She looks rich and classy in just one glance, her hair as white as snow, her face pale with faint makeup.

But who the hell is she?

"Of course I am," she retorts and her carrying eyes—piercing gray—shift towards me. My whole body feels the chills. "I heard you got married. Is this the wife?" Her voice is ostentatious as she asks this.

Is this the wife? I feel offended by the lady's remark but I can't fully comprehend what's happening.

Liam takes a hold of my hand and subtly strides a step forward so I stay behind him. "Yes, she is," he replies, his face bold despite the tension in his muscles that I clearly feel.

"I see. You're indeed your stepfather's son," the old lady murmurs. You both like picking . . . these kinds of . . . women." She eyes me snootily.

Liam lunges toward her abruptly with a grave look. "If you speak anything vulgar about my wife, I swear I'm going to forget that you're the mother of the man I consider a father in this world. You can attack me however you want but not her!" he thunders quietly.

His grandma! Now I get it, but I'm still confused as to why they're so hostile to one another.

"Of course he is your father. Because you wouldn't be the man you are right now if it weren't for my family's fortune! Both you and your mother would be in some other part of the world doing God-knows-what!" the old woman spits.

Liam's jaw clenches, his fists, too. He seems to be fighting hard against his fury and I want this woman to stop right now.

"Perhaps you are right, and I'm not going to argue with you," Liam answers gently.

His composure infuriates the old lady even more. Her face hardens and her pink shaded lips tremble as she strides closer to Liam.

"And what about me, huh? You and your mother took my son away from me! You turned him against his own family but it wasn't enough. You killed him! Murders!" Her eyes are suddenly drenched.

My eyes widen. What the fuck is this lady saying now? I can't stand the curiosity.

"No," Liam denies gently, shaking his head to the sides. "If you still believe that someone killed him, then it has to be you, and not us. If you don't have anything else to say, with all due respect, I'll take my leave." He holds my hand tightly and I take a step closer to him.

"Your mother should've at least given him a son of his own!" the old lady utters painfully, halting us before we even move. "My son died without even an heir. Poor thing, he spent his life taking care of another man's child and even—"

"That's enough!" I burst out with anger, tears burning my eyes. "I don't know who you are, lady, but I can't stay still hearing you insulting my husband! No, madam! If your son accepted Liam as his son, then it's because he loved him as a son, and there is nothing you can do about it!" My chest shores on and off, deeply enraged by her filthy comment.

The old lady squints her eyes at me, and I think I've made myself an enemy.

"It's alright, my love. Let's go." Liam pulls me away, leaving the old lady fuming madly.

Right near our car is where we both stop. Liam looks agitated, his eyes dark and pained, but he immediately softens when he gazes down at me. I wipe a teardrop off my eye and sniff.

"Is she your step grandmother? Why was she so mean?" I ask Liam.

"Oh, Kira." Liam gingerly holds her face and wipes the remaining moist in my eyes using his thumbs. "Why are you crying, huh? Because of what she said? Don't pay attention to it." He kisses my forehead and hugs me.

"I don't like the way she treated you. She insulted you and accused you of . . . Oh, God." I can't even imagine what's going on in that lady's mind to call them murders.

Liam chuckles lightly as we pull apart. "She doesn't like me, Kira. I'm not her blood so I can't blame her." His voice is filled with pain despite the mask of bravery he puts on.

"Is that why she accuses you of killing her son? Do you wanna talk about that?" I ask hopefully, wishing Liam would be trusting enough to disclose a thing or two about his father's death.

"At the moment, no," Liam replies with a sigh. "But I promise I'll tell you everything at the right time and place. Just not today, and mostly here."

"Okay," I breathe and pull him for a passionate kiss that takes longer than necessary.

"I love this," he murmurs with a smile.

I smile back, our eyes locked up smoothly with love and tenderness.

"That priggish old lady may not know about this, but you're the most amazing man I've ever come across. I'm positively sure your father was proud of having you for a son, just as I'm proud of having you for a husband. I love you, Liam. More than you simply imagine," I tell him softly.

"Oh, baby." Liam's eyes shimmer and tears appear fleetingly, for he quickly draws them away. "Thank you. And I love you more than you can ever imagine. You're my world, Kira."

He swaps me for another hug and we stay glued for a good while before pulling back as something magically appears right before our eyes.

"My God, Liam! It's snowing!" I squeak loudly at the snowflake falling faintly on us, on Liam's jacket.

He just grins at me. Twirling around, I glance up in the sky and giggle.

"Yay, it's snowing, Liam, look!" I'm excited. To me it feels like magic.