Chapter 3 - The Cold Proposal
Consciousness slammed into me with the force of an oncoming freight train. I gasped, sitting bolt upright on an orthopedic leather recliner. The scent of sterile disinfectant, expensive white lilies, and damp rain filled my senses. I wasn't in my cramped, blood-splattered apartment anymore. I wore a tailored bespoke suit, and across the glass conference table sat Audrey Chen.
Her raven hair was pulled back into a severe chignon, accentuating cheekbones that looked sharp enough to draw blood. Despite her pristine charcoal blazer, I could see the pale, bluish tint along her fingernails and the subtle tremor in her left hand as she signed an estate document.
""Mr. Wang,"" Audrey said, her voice like ice cubes clinking in crystal. ""Let us not waste time. My family council will strip my voting rights by Friday if I remain unmarried without an heir. Your background check indicates your family went bankrupt three months ago, you have zero living relatives, and you desperately need ten million dollars to settle outstanding debts. The contract is simple: a legal marriage for twelve months. You receive full financial restitution, a penthouse in the northern district, and zero obligations to share my bed. Do you agree?""
I glanced down at my palms. The scars from seven years of shielding Willow were gone; this new physical vessel was healthy, young, and unburdened by illness. The system interface hovered discretely in the periphery of my vision: [Target Audrey Chen. Current Health: 42%. Affection: Neutral (0%). Poison Index: Rising.]
""I have two conditions,"" I said, leaning forward.
Audrey paused her fountain pen, her cool grey eyes narrowing with immediate suspicion. ""Men in your financial position rarely have leverage to set conditions.""
""First, I manage all your meals, beverages, and personal medications starting today. No outside catering, no corporate assistants handling your tea,"" I stated calmly, watching her brow furrow. ""Second, if the Vance Corporation approaches your firm regarding the southern harbor logistics project, you reject them immediately and hand the counter-bidding rights entirely to me.""
Audrey leaned back, studying my face with surgical precision. ""You hate the Vance family?""
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""I don't hate them,"" I said softly, feeling a cold, dead weight settle in my chest. ""I simply know how they hunt. And I have no intention of watching another person walk into a meat grinder.""
Audrey held my gaze for ten agonizing seconds before she tapped the desk twice. ""My private driver will pick up your luggage at four. Don't be late for the registry office.""
