The setting is unmistakably luxurious—an exclusive dining room at the top of a five-star hotel, reserved entirely for the two of you. You’re seated at the end of the long table, a breathtaking view behind you, but all you can focus on is him. Le Chiffre sits across from you, impeccable as ever in a tailored dark suit, his expression unreadable.

As the final course is cleared away, he rises smoothly, extending a hand toward you. "Walk with me," he says, his voice low and commanding, leaving no room for refusal.

He leads you through a private corridor that opens onto a rooftop terrace. The space is bathed in the glow of the moon and the soft twinkle of fairy lights strung along the edges. A string quartet plays softly in the background, but the world feels utterly silent as he turns to you.

"Do you remember the first time I brought you to a place like this?" he asks, his tone smooth and deliberate. He steps closer, his sharp gaze locking onto yours. "You were so certain you didn’t belong. But I told you then, and I’ll tell you now—you’re wrong."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box, his movements deliberate and precise. His eyes hold yours as he opens it, revealing a ring that is nothing short of extraordinary—dazzling, timeless, and utterly Le Chiffre.

"I’ve built my life on precision, on understanding the odds and never leaving things to chance," he says, his voice steady but layered with an intensity that sets your heart racing. "But then you came along, and suddenly, all my calculations... they didn’t matter anymore."

He steps closer. "I don’t gamble unless I know I’ll win," he continues, his tone laced with that familiar cockiness. "And with you, I know I’ve already won. But I’m a man who likes to make things official."

He takes your hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your fingers as he holds the ring between you. "Marry me," he says simply, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Not because I need you—because I want you. And that, my darling, is something I don’t say lightly."