That night felt longer than it should have.
Ammie lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, but sleep refused to come. The room was quiet—her sister already asleep, the soft hum of the night wrapping around the house.
But her mind…
Her mind wouldn't rest.
The contract sat on the small table beside her.
Waiting.
Mocking her.
I want you to marry me.
She turned to her side, pulling the blanket closer.
"This is insane…" she whispered.
Yet—
No matter how many times she said it…
She didn't push it away.
Instead, she kept thinking.
About the money.
About the life it could change.
About her mother.
The unpaid rent.
The quiet struggle hidden behind smiles.
Her chest tightened.
"This could fix everything…"
Her voice was barely audible.
"But at what cost?"
She shut her eyes.
But his face appeared again.
Calm.
Cold.
Unreadable.
The kind of man who didn't ask twice.
"You're thinking too loudly."
Ammie's eyes snapped open.
She turned sharply.
Her mother stood by the door, arms folded lightly, watching her.
Ammie quickly sat up. "Mum… you scared me."
Her mother walked in slowly, her gaze soft but knowing.
"You've been quiet since you came back," she said. "And you don't even notice when I call you anymore."
Ammie forced a small smile. "I'm just tired."
Her mother didn't sit.
She just stood there… studying her.
"Ammie."
That tone.
Gentle.
But firm.
"What is it?"
Ammie looked away.
"Nothing, Mum."
A pause.
"You know you can tell me anything."
"I know."
"Then tell me."
Ammie's fingers tightened around the edge of her blanket.
She wanted to.
God, she wanted to.
But how do you tell your mum—
That a stranger wants to marry you for reasons you don't even understand?
That you're actually considering it?
That you might say yes… not for love, but for survival?
Her throat felt tight.
"It's just work," she said finally. "First day pressure."
Her mother watched her for a few seconds longer.
Long enough to know—
That wasn't the truth.
But she didn't push.
Instead, she sighed softly and sat beside her.
"Whatever it is," she said gently, placing a hand on Ammie's head, "don't let it take your peace."
Ammie nodded.
But peace…
Was already gone.
The next morning came too quickly.
Ammie stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her outfit for the third time.
Her reflection stared back at her.
Same face.
Same girl.
But something inside her felt… different.
Heavier.
Decided.
She picked up the contract.
This time—
Her hands didn't shake.
The company felt colder than before.
Or maybe it was just her.
Ammie walked straight past the front desk, her steps steady, her expression calm.
"Miss Ammie?" Clara called, surprised. "You're heading to—"
"I know," Ammie said softly.
And she kept walking.
Straight to the executive floor.
The silence there felt sharper.
More controlled.
Like even the air knew not to misbehave.
She stopped in front of his office.
For a second—
Just one second—
She hesitated.
Then she knocked.
"Come in."
His voice.
Calm.
Unbothered.
Ammie pushed the door open and stepped inside.
He didn't look up immediately.
Seated behind his desk, flipping through a document, completely focused—as if she wasn't standing there.
As if she didn't matter.
"Sir," she said.
No response.
Ammie swallowed.
"I came to give my answer."
A pause.
Then slowly—
He closed the file.
Looked up.
His eyes met hers.
Cold.
Sharp.
Unreadable.
"Well?" he said.
Just one word.
No patience.
No softness.
Ammie took a step forward.
Her heart was beating fast—
But her voice didn't shake.
"I'll do it."
Silence.
Not relief.
Not surprise.
Nothing.
He simply leaned back in his chair, studying her like she was a decision he had already expected.
"I figured," he said flatly.
Something about that—
Annoyed her.
But she didn't show it.
"You don't seem surprised," she said quietly.
"I don't deal with uncertainties," he replied. "I make calculated choices."
Ammie's brows tightened slightly.
"So this was calculated?"
His gaze didn't waver.
"Everything about this is."
The room felt colder.
More serious.
"Read the contract properly," he continued. "You don't get to back out once this starts."
"I understand."
"Do you?" he asked, his tone sharper now. "Because this isn't some emotional fantasy."
Ammie held his gaze.
"I know."
A pause.
Then he stood up.
Slowly.
Commanding.
Even the air seemed to shift with the movement.
"Good," he said.
He walked toward her—stopping just close enough to make her aware of the space between them.
"You'll move into my house."
Ammie's breath hitched slightly.
"Everything will be arranged," he continued. "You'll play your role. No mistakes."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the contract.
"And in return?" she asked.
His eyes locked onto hers.
"You get everything you need."
Not want.
Need.
Ammie nodded slowly.
That was enough.
That had always been the point.
"Any questions?" he asked.
She hesitated.
Then—
"What's your name?"
For the first time—
A flicker of something crossed his expression.
Brief.
Almost invisible.
Then—
He answered.
"Adrian."