Chapter 3 THE ANSWER

Isabella's POV

Monday morning came too quickly.

I stood in front of my mirror, fastening the last button of my uniform while staring at my reflection.

I looked tired.

I had barely slept the night before.

Every time I closed my eyes, the same things came back to me.

Five million dollars.

One year.

One marriage.

No love.

No expectations.

No promises.

I sighed and reached for my handbag.

I needed to stop thinking about Adrian Knight.

I had a job to do.

I had bills to worry about.

Most importantly, I had my father.

My life had been complicated enough before Adrian walked into it. I didn't need to make it worse by spending every waking moment thinking about a proposal I hadn't even accepted.

So, by the time I left the house, I had made up my mind.

I was going to work.

I was going to focus on my job.

And I was going to forget about Adrian Knight.

At least for one day.

The hotel was already busy when I arrived.

I tied my apron around my waist and immediately got to work.

Breakfast orders came one after another. Guests complained about their coffee, asked for extra napkins, changed their minds about what they wanted, and somehow expected everything to happen within seconds.

Normally, it would have annoyed me.

Today, I welcomed it.

The busier I was, the less time I had to think.

For a while, it worked.

Then, during my lunch break, I sat in the staff room with a bottle of water in my hand and found myself thinking about him again.

I hated that.

I hated how easily he had managed to occupy my thoughts.

Why me?

That question kept returning.

There were countless women who belonged in Adrian Knight's world.

Women with money.

Women who knew how to behave around powerful people.

Women who wouldn't look at a five-million-dollar contract and wonder whether they were making the biggest mistake of their lives.

So why had he chosen me?

I didn't have an answer.

My phone vibrated.

I glanced down.

My heart immediately sank.

Adrian Knight.

I stared at his name for several seconds.

I almost ignored it.

Almost.

Instead, I opened the message.

Adrian: Are you free after work?

I frowned.

Why couldn't he just leave me alone for one day?

I typed:

Why?

His response came quickly.

Adrian: We need to talk.

Of course we did.

I already knew what he wanted to talk about.

I typed again.

About the proposal?

Three dots appeared.

Then his reply.

Adrian: Yes.

I leaned back in my chair.

I should have known he wasn't going to let the matter sit.

I had barely managed to convince myself that I could forget about the proposal, and now it was sitting right in front of me again.

I typed:

I finish at six.

His response came almost immediately.

Adrian: Six-thirty.

I stared at the screen.

Where?

He sent me the address of a quiet café not far from the hotel.

I locked my phone and placed it on the table.

So much for forgetting him.

The rest of my shift seemed to take forever.

At six, I changed out of my uniform and left the hotel.

I walked to the café, trying to prepare myself for the conversation.

I needed answers.

Not vague explanations.

Not another carefully worded statement.

Answers.

Why me?

Why marriage?

Why one year?

And why was Adrian Knight willing to pay five million dollars for it?

When I arrived, I saw him immediately.

He was already seated near the window.

Of course he was.

Adrian looked completely calm, as if he hadn't turned my life upside down over the weekend.

When he saw me, he stood.

"Isabella."

"Adrian."

He gestured toward the chair opposite him.

I sat down.

He sat across from me.

For a few seconds, neither of us said anything.

Then he broke the silence.

"I assume you've thought about my proposal."

"I have."

"And?"

I folded my hands on the table.

"I haven't made a decision."

He nodded.

"I expected that."

I studied his face.

"You don't seem surprised."

"I'm not."

"Why?"

"Because it's a serious decision."

I looked away for a moment.

He was right.

It was serious.

Maybe too serious.

I looked back at him.

"Why me, Adrian?"

He was silent.

That silence told me more than I wanted to know.

"I have my reasons," he finally said.

"That's not an answer."

"I know."

I felt frustration building inside me.

"Then give me one."

He leaned back slightly.

"I need this marriage."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

"But you won't tell me why."

"I can't."

I stared at him.

"Then why should I trust you?"

His answer surprised me.

"You don't have to."

I blinked.

"What?"

"You don't have to trust me blindly. That's why there's a contract."

He reached for the folder beside him and placed it on the table between us.

"The terms are clear. One year. Five million dollars. Separate rooms. No expectations beyond what we've agreed upon."

I looked down at the folder.

"And after one year?"

"The marriage ends."

He said it so simply.

Like it was nothing.

Like marriage could be started and ended with a signature.

I touched the folder but didn't open it.

"You really think people can get married for one year and simply walk away?"

"That's the agreement."

I looked at him.

"And what if I change my mind?"

"Then you say no."

I wasn't expecting that.

"You'd just accept it?"

"If you say no, I'll find another solution."

Something about those words bothered me.

I didn't know why.

Maybe because they reminded me that Adrian didn't actually need me.

He needed a wife.

If I refused, he would simply find someone else.

I looked down at the contract again.

"I need time."

"You have it."

"How much?"

He glanced at his watch.

"Until tomorrow."

I looked up sharply.

"Tomorrow?"

"I need an answer."

I couldn't believe how calm he was.

"You really don't waste time."

"No."

For the briefest moment, I thought I saw amusement in his eyes.

Then it disappeared.

He stood.

"Read the contract carefully."

I looked at the folder.

"And then?"

"Then decide."

He walked away.

I remained seated, staring after him.

I finally opened the folder.

The words on the first page blurred slightly as I read them.

One year.

Five million dollars.

Marriage.

No love.

No expectations.

No promises.

I closed my eyes.

I had spent the entire day trying to forget Adrian Knight.

Now I was sitting in a café with his contract in my hands.

And tomorrow, I had to decide whether I was willing to become his wife.

Adrian's POV

I was halfway through reviewing a report Monday morning when Sebastian walked into my office without knocking.

Again.

I didn't bother looking up.

"One day, I'm going to change the locks."

Sebastian dropped into the chair across from my desk.

"You've been saying that for years."

"And one day, I'll actually do it."

He laughed.

I continued reading the report.

For a few seconds, he was quiet.

Too quiet.

I finally looked up.

He was watching me.

"What?"

"You're really doing it?"

I knew exactly what he meant.

"Yes."

He shook his head.

"I still think you're making a mistake."

I returned my attention to the report.

"You've said that already."

"And I'm going to keep saying it until you listen."

"I'm not going to listen."

Sebastian sighed.

"Adrian, you're talking about marrying a woman you barely know."

"I know enough."

"You met her how many times?"

I didn't answer.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Exactly."

I placed the report on my desk.

"You didn't come here to count how many times I've met Isabella."

"No. I came here to stop you from doing something stupid."

I leaned back in my chair.

"You won't."

"You're right."

He paused.

"Probably because you're impossible."

I almost smiled.

Almost.

Sebastian had been my friend for years. He was one of the few people who could walk into my office, insult my decisions, and leave without worrying about whether he'd offended me.

He knew me too well.

That was precisely why I knew this conversation wasn't going to end quickly.

"You don't marry strangers," he said.

"This isn't a normal marriage."

"That's not the point."

"It is to me."

Sebastian stared at me.

"Why her?"

There it was.

The question I'd been avoiding.

I looked toward the window.

Because she was different.

Because she hadn't looked at me like I was Adrian Knight, the billionaire.

Because she hadn't tried to impress me.

Because when I offered her five million dollars, she hadn't immediately grabbed the opportunity.

She had questioned me.

She had hesitated.

She had looked me directly in the eye and asked why I had chosen her.

I respected that.

But I wasn't about to tell Sebastian all of that.

"She'll do."

Sebastian stared at me.

"That's your answer?"

"It's enough."

"No, it isn't."

I said nothing.

He leaned forward.

"You're acting like this is just another business deal."

"It is."

"Then why are you so defensive whenever I talk about her?"

I frowned.

"I'm not defensive."

"You corrected me when I called her the waitress."

"Because her name is Isabella."

Sebastian gave me a knowing look.

I immediately regretted saying it.

He leaned back.

"There."

I narrowed my eyes.

"There what?"

"Nothing."

"Sebastian."

He smiled.

"I'm just saying, you know her name."

"Obviously I know her name."

"And you seem to care that I use it."

"I don't care."

"Sure."

I ignored him.

He wasn't going to turn this into something it wasn't.

I needed a wife.

Isabella was suitable.

The arrangement was beneficial to both of us.

That was all.

At least, that was what I kept telling myself.

Sebastian eventually sighed.

"Look, I'm not trying to control your life."

"I know."

"But this is a big decision."

"I know."

"And if she says no?"

I looked at him.

"Then she says no."

He studied me carefully.

"You're serious about that?"

"Of course."

"I thought you said you needed this."

"I do."

"Then what happens if she refuses?"

"I'll find another solution."

Sebastian nodded slowly.

"Good."

He stood.

Then he paused at the door.

"Just remember something."

I looked up.

"What's that?"

"She's a person, Adrian. Not a solution."

The words stayed with me after he left.

I stared at the closed door for several seconds.

Then I looked down at the contract on my desk.

I knew exactly what I wanted.

I knew exactly what I needed.

And Isabella would make her own decision.

I wouldn't force her.

But if she said yes, everything would finally fall into place.

One year.

That's all it would be.

One year, and then we would both walk away.

At least, that was the plan.