The proposal
Elena Carter had barely stepped out of the elevator when she began to regret coming.
Her hands, shoved deep into the pockets of her worn-out coat, trembled slightly. Not from the cold air conditioning that seemed to chill her bones, but from the name engraved in bold silver on the wall behind the reception desk.
Knight Enterprises.
The name made her stomach twist.
She hadn't stepped into this building in over two years—not since the day her father's company had been destroyed by a single announcement from the man behind those doors. Alexander Knight. Ruthless. Calculating. The man who smiled coldly on the cover of every business magazine as if the world was nothing but a game he was effortlessly winning.
And now, she'd been summoned here. Just yesterday, she'd received an unexpected email from his office:
> "Miss Carter, you are requested to attend a confidential meeting at Knight Enterprises Headquarters at 10:30 AM. This appointment is of critical importance. Attendance is expected. — Lucas Graham, Executive Assistant to Mr. Knight."
No further explanation. No details. Just a command dressed up as a request.
A receptionist waved her over with a polished smile. "Miss Carter, correct? Mr. Knight is expecting you. Please take the elevator to the top floor."
Elena nodded stiffly, her throat dry. As she stepped into the glass elevator, the city fell away beneath her feet, replaced with rising anxiety. What could he possibly want from her?
The elevator chimed.
When the doors opened, she stepped into a silent corridor that stretched toward a pair of massive frosted-glass doors. Before she could knock, they opened automatically.
He was there.
Alexander Knight stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, a phone in one hand, his back straight, his tailored suit immaculate. He turned, and those storm-gray eyes locked on hers with unreadable calm.
"Elena Carter," he said, as though greeting an old business rival rather than the daughter of the man he'd ruined.
"Mr. Knight," she replied, keeping her voice as flat as possible.
"Please, have a seat."
She didn't move right away. "Why am I here?"
He didn't blink. "Because I have a proposal."
He gestured to the chair in front of his sleek black desk. Warily, she sat. A thick folder lay in front of her, its cover blank.
"What is this?"
"A contract."
Her brows furrowed. "What kind of contract?"
"One that benefits both of us." His tone was smooth, but devoid of warmth. "I need a wife. Temporarily. For exactly one year."
Elena stared at him, stunned.
"You want me to marry you?" she asked, blinking as if she might have misheard.
"Yes."
She almost laughed. "Are you insane?"
His jaw tensed slightly, but he remained calm. "Not at all. This is purely business."
"What kind of business requires marrying the daughter of the man you ruined?"
"Something... strategic."
"I don't care what kind of merger or scandal you're trying to dodge. I'm not a pawn."
"You're not," he said. "But you could benefit from this too."
Elena crossed her arms. "Try me."
"If you agree to marry me—for one year only—I'll revive Carter Holdings. Your father's company will be fully restored. Debt-free. Functional. And handed back over to your family."
Her heart lurched.
"That's not funny," she said softly.
"It wasn't meant to be. I'm offering you a real deal."
Her eyes narrowed. "You destroyed us. You called my father incompetent in front of shareholders and walked off with our contracts. And now you want me to wear a dress and smile for the press?"
"You're not wearing anything unless you sign first," he replied smoothly.
"Why me?" she demanded, voice rising. "Why not some socialite? Some other heiress desperate to have your last name?"
"Because they would want more than a contract. You don't. You hate me. That makes this cleaner."
"I don't even know what to say."
"Say yes," he said. "You'll walk away a free woman in twelve months, with your father's legacy intact."
She stood abruptly, folding her arms tight across her chest. "You really believe people can be bought, don't you?"
He leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable. "I believe people value what they love. You love your father. This is the fastest way to help him."
Her chest ached.
She thought about her dad—how he barely left the house anymore, how he stared at old photos of board meetings and engineering plans like they were fossils from another life. He hadn't been the same since Knight Enterprises crushed him in the press.
"This marriage," she said quietly, "there's no… intimacy?"
"None required. Clause eight, section four."
She glanced down at the folder, which was still unopened in front of her. "And after a year?"
"Mutual divorce. Clean break. You walk away."
"And you?"
"I get what I need for the board and investors. It's temporary."
"And what if I say no?"
"You'll walk out of here with nothing. Just like you walked in."
The cold finality in his voice pierced something in her chest. She lowered herself slowly back into the chair and finally opened the folder.
It was real.
Detailed.
Ironclad.
Her name was already typed in.
Tears pricked at her eyes, but she refused to cry in front of Alexander Knight.
She closed the folder and stood again, gripping it tightly.
"I'll think about it."
"Take your time," he said. "You have forty-eight hours."
She turned to leave.
"Elena."
She paused without looking back.
"I'm not your enemy in this."
That made her scoff. "You just don't know how to be anyone else."
She left his office without another word. The moment the elevator doors closed, her knees nearly gave out. She clutched the folder like it might explode in her hands.
Down in the lobby, the receptionist gave her a polite smile. Outside, the rain had stopped, and the city buzzed like it had no idea her world had just shifted on its axis.
She walked to the corner, sat on a bench, and opened the folder again.
There it was. Her name. His. One year.
And her father's salvation.
She stared at the pages for a long time, her heart pounding in her ears.
She had a decision to make.