The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 366

Chapter 180-2

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You first, Evie, Locke says, leaning back against the sofa cushions and pulling me against his side, his heavy arm wrapping securely around my shoulders. He reaches under the low branches of the tree and pulls out a long, heavy rectangular package wrapped in thick navy paper.

Evelyn looks genuinely surprised, taking the box into her lap. “Locke, I told you explicitly not to get me anything lavish.”

“Just open it, woman,” he grunts, taking a sip of his black coffee.

She carefully unties the gold ribbon and peels back the dark paper, lifting the lid of a dark, polished wooden case. Inside lies a restored vintage brass nautical barometer and tide clock, mounted on a piece of reclaimed ship timber. The brass gleams brilliantly in the firelight, pristine, heavy, and

timeless.

Evelyn’s breath hitches. She runs a delicate, lingering hand over the polished brass with real

reverence. “Locke… this is from the old lighthouse keeper’s station down on the harbor. I tried to

buy this at auction three years ago.”

“Tracked down the collector who won it,” Locke says. “Refurbished the internal brass gears using a

friend’s shop back home. Works perfect now.”

“It’s absolute perfection,” Evelyn whispers, her eyes shining with quiet emotion as she looks up at

him. “Thank you, Rex. Truly.”

Next, it’s Locke’s turn. I reach under the lower branches and pull out the heavy package wrapped in dark paper that I’ve been guarding closely since we left home. My heart beats a little faster in my

chest as I hand it to him.

“From me,” I say, watching his face carefully. “Mr. James says Merry Christmas, too.”

Locke looks down at the package, his eyebrows lifting slightly at the mention of Franklin James.

He unties the heavy cord and folds back the dark wrapping paper, lifting the lid of the dark velvet-lined wooden box to reveal the massive, custom-forged steel belt buckle resting inside.

Locke’s fingers freeze over the metal.

He lifts the buckle out, holding its heavy, solid weight in his palm. The firelight glints off the polished steel, highlighting the sharp, precise engraving right on the front: two lines of numbers

stacked together in clean, striking script.

He traces the top line of numbers with his broad thumb, his brow furrowing slightly in quiet thought. “Coordinates?”

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Chapter 180-2

I lean closer into his side, laying my hand over his flexed thigh as I look down at the buckle with/”

him.

The top line is coordinates to my old apartment,” I say. “And the line right beneath it is coordinates to your penthouse.”

Locke flips the heavy buckle over in his palm. His thumb lingers over the four words engraved

neatly into the polished steel back:

Always My Safe Haven

Finally, Locke looks up from the buckle, his dark gaze burning with a raw, fierce gravity that takes

my breath away.

Without a word, he sets the box aside on the table, reaches out, and pulls me straight into his lap. He cups the back of my neck with his massive, calloused hand and pulls me into a’deep, slow kiss right there.

“It’s the best damn thing I’ve ever owned, Zara,” he says against my lips, his voice thick and rough

with emotion. “Hands down.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Hold on,” Locke murmurs, pulling back slightly while keeping me locked securely on his lap. He reaches under the very back of the tree, behind the trunk, and pulls out a square, heavy wooden box wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with thick twine.

I blink, looking from the box to his face. “Locke… you already gave me the silver cuff last night.”

“That was from me,” he says, taking the box into his large hands and placing it carefully on my lap. “This one… Cobra brought it to me at the shop two months ago.”

My breath catches in my throat. My head snaps up to meet his dark, quiet gaze. “My Dad?”

“Yeah,” Locke says softly, his thumb rubbing over my hip. “He held onto it for twenty years. It belonged to your mother.”

My hands begin to tremble slightly as I untie the twine and fold back the paper.

Inside lies a small, rectangular mahogany music box with intricate brass inlay along the top edge. The dark wood was once dull and scuffed, but under Locke’s meticulous hands, it’s been restored to a deep, gleaming luster.

I recognize it instantly. A sudden flood of memories washes over me: foggy, childhood fragments from when I was just three or four years old. I remember sitting on my mother’s bedroom rug, watching her wind the brass key on the side while the sweet, soft lullaby played.

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Chapter 180-2

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“Cobra said the internal gears were rusted solid,” Locke says. “Said he couldn’t bear to look at it broken after she passed, so he kept it locked away in his safe. He asked me if I could fix it up for

you for Christmas.”

Tears spring to my eyes, hot and sudden, blurring my vision. I carefully reach out and wind the

small brass key on the side of the wooden box.

When I release it, the delicate, clear notes of a soft, soothing lullaby chime through the living room, crystalline and bright, echoing off the wooden walls.

A sob catches in my throat.

“Locke… it’s…” I can barely speak through the knot in my throat. I turn in his lap, throwing my arms tightly around his neck and burying my face into the warm nook of his collarbone. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Locke wraps his massive arms around me, holding me tight against his chest while the sweet music box plays its quiet, crystalline melody under the Christmas tree.

When the last chime slowly fades into the warm silence of the room, I take a soft breath and wipe my cheeks. Holding the smooth mahogany box carefully in my hands, I turn toward Evelyn, who’s watching us from her armchair, and Titan, who’s observing us from the rug in front of the fire.

“This was my mother’s,” I tell her. “She died when I was four, but I remember this music box like it was yesterday.”

Evelyn’s eyes warm with deep emotion as she looks between Locke and me. “Oh, Zara… it’s absolute perfection. What a beautiful gift.”

I smile back, squeezing the box close to my chest as I lean back against Locke, feeling completely wrapped in love and memories.

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