Chapter 7: Multiple Factors
Frances was annoyed—confused even. Is this man really human? she asked herself. He hadn't asked her anything about the previous day's incident. He didn't seem concerned about where she came from, what had happened to her, or even whether she needed anything.
She stood silently at the door of his study, unsure whether to leave or speak again.
"Is there anything else you want to say?" Raymond asked, noticing she hadn't left.
"Yes." She turned back to face him, gathering courage. "I want to ask if you can lend me some money. I promise to repay it—with interest."
Raymond lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. "Is that all I'll gain from this loan?"
"Yes. I know you've already done a lot for me. You took me in, fed me, gave me clothes. But I don't want to owe you. I hate owing anyone. If you lend me this money, I'll pay it back. I swear it."
"Oh, is that all?" he replied, then gave a wicked, unreadable smile. "Well, I don't need you to pay me back."
"Huh?" Frances blinked, surprised. For a brief second, she felt relief—until his next words dropped like a bomb.
"Marry me," he said, his eyes sharp and deliberate. "Marry me, and you'll get the money for free. No repayment needed."
"Marry you?" she repeated, stunned. "Sir, I didn't come to ask for a man. I said I needed money—for something important."
"If you're looking for a wife, there are blind dates, matchmakers—"
"I don't want any of those," he interrupted. "I want you to be my wife. No one else. I'll give you ten million if you agree."
Frances was speechless. What is this man thinking? How could he propose marriage so suddenly? They barely knew each other. Wasn't he worried she might be dangerous—maybe even sent to kill him?
"Go back to your room and think about it," he said coldly. "Don't stay here interrupting my work."
"Oh… Sorry." She left in a hurry.
---
Back in her room, Frances collapsed onto the bed, deep in thought. Marriage? That wasn't even an option she'd considered—not anymore. There was no time for love, no space for it in her heart.
But the harsh truth slapped her harder than any insult: she had nothing. No family, no house, no money, no future. It was as if her existence had been erased.
Tears welled up, rolling down her cheeks before she quickly wiped them away. Then she stared into the mirror, her expression hardening.
"No one can shake me. Nothing will change my path," she whispered to herself.
She had made her decision.
She would accept the marriage proposal—not because she wanted to belong to him, but because she had her own plan. With the money, she'd leave the country and start over. She would rebuild herself. And most importantly—she would execute her revenge.
---
Elsewhere...
"Son, when are you choosing a date for your wedding?" Mrs. Troy Stary asked as she watched Marcus flipping through documents.
"Mum, it's next week. We already got our marriage certificate. I told you we'd registered at the bureau office. Technically, Charlotte and I are already husband and wife."
He brought out two red booklets and held them up. "Here's the proof."
"I know," she said, trying to mask her concern. "I just wanted to be sure. You know how you young people are—saying one thing and doing another. I'm just making sure everything is in order. I hope you understand."
Marcus nodded slowly, unaware of the storm behind his mother's calm words. Deep down, Mrs. Troy Stary didn't want this marriage. But Charlotte knew her secret—a secret she would go to her grave to protect. Ever since Charlotte discovered what she'd done years ago, she had used it as leverage.
Letting her son marry Charlotte was part of the price she had to pay to keep her past buried.
"Okay, Mum, but you don't have to worry. Charlotte and I got this handled. That reminds me—have you heard anything about Frances?"
Mrs. Stary's face changed instantly. "No. And why are you asking about her again? I told you never to mention that bitch's name in this house!"
"I was just asking," Marcus said, startled. "I want to know if she's around. Just to be careful."
"You better stay away from her!" she snapped. "Focus on your wedding. That's all that matters now."
"Okay, ma." He sighed.
"I want your wedding to be the most glamorous event of the year. My friends will be there, and I cannot afford to embarrass myself," she said.
Marcus stared at her. "Mum, what did you tell them? You know the money for this wedding is a loan, right? I've said it before."
"What loan?" she scoffed. "I don't care how you get the money. Just make sure you give me what I want."
He stood up and walked out of the room, exhausted by her demands.
"You're walking out on me now?" she screamed behind him. "You ungrateful bastard! After all I've done for you, this is how you treat me? Are you even my son?! Just make sure the wedding is perfect—nonsense!"
She stomped around the room in rage, shouting as if he could still hear her.
---
After Raymond finished work in his study, he changed into his suit and headed out. Before leaving, he told Frances he would transfer the money to her once he arrived at his office.