Chapter 2

The silence in my mother' s office was absolute.

Professor Blakely' s handsome face twisted in disbelief. Andrew Scott' s stoic mask finally cracked, showing a flicker of shock.

My mother was the first to speak. "Madisyn, are you out of your mind? That' s Wesley Hughes. He' s a cleaner. A corporate tool. He has no emotions, no family. He is not husband material."

A board member sputtered, "He' s… unsavory, Ms. Clarkson. A man like that is a weapon, not a partner."

"Exactly," I countered, my voice cold. "He is the family' s most dangerous asset. Marrying him doesn' t just give me a husband. It binds our most powerful weapon to me, personally and permanently. It' s the ultimate power move."

I looked at my mother, challenging her. "You wanted to stabilize my position. This is how I do it. No one will dare to move against the woman who holds Wesley Hughes' s leash."

The cold logic hit her. A slow, calculating smile spread across her face. She saw it. The brutal, perfect strategy.

"Very well," she declared, her tone shifting to admiration. "A brilliant move. I' ll have the legal team draft the contracts immediately."

She then looked at Blakely and Scott. "Professor Blakely, Mr. Scott. Your services as Ms. Clarkson' s potential suitors are no longer required. You will be reassigned. Effective once the marriage is finalized."

"I have no objections," I said calmly, a stark contrast to the girl who would have cried and pleaded in her past life.

Outside the office, the two men cornered me.

"What is this, Madisyn?" Blakely sneered, his charm gone, replaced by raw anger. "Are you so desperate for a man you' d marry that… thing?"

Andrew stepped forward, his expression hard. "Who did you choose?"

I gave them a small, cryptic smile. "You' ll find out. At the Clarkson Charity Gala."

Blakely scoffed. "You know my heart belongs to someone else. Why do you keep harassing me?"

Just then, a sweet voice called out, "Professor! Andrew!"

Sabrina Chavez came skipping toward us, holding a single, breathtakingly rare orchid. "Look what I found in the company conservatory! Isn' t it beautiful?"

A light drizzle started to fall. Blakely' s anger melted instantly. He moved to shield her with his body. "Sabrina, you' ll get wet."

Andrew, without a second' s hesitation, took off his own expensive tailored jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

"Thank you, Andrew! You' re so sweet," she chirped.

I felt a familiar chill. I turned to my bodyguard. "Scott, you work for me."

He shot back, "You have dozens of jackets, Ms. Clarkson. Sabrina is delicate. She needs to be taken care of."

To prove his point, Sabrina let out a small cry. "Oh, a puddle! My shoes will be ruined!"

Andrew didn' t even look at me. He took the jacket-the very jacket I had given him last year for saving my life-and threw it into the muddy puddle for her to step on.

He threw away my gratitude for her convenience.