Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The heavy lounge door clicked shut behind me, cutting off their crude wagers and sickening laughter.

The hallway was dead silent, save for the rhythmic click of my high heels against the marble floor.

I walked toward the elevator step by step, Easton's condescending tone echoing in my mind.

Right then, my phone buzzed in my clutch.

I pulled it out. The screen lit up with a number that was unsaved, yet burned permanently into my memory.

The text was simple to the point of being blunt, yet its weight made my fingertips tremble.

"Yvonne, I know this is completely out of line right now. But if you are willing... would you marry me? Not as a corporate merger, not as a business deal. Just me... begging you for a chance to take care of you. I have waited for so long."

The sender was Gideon Brooks.

Easton Cole's fiercest business rival.

I stood on the sidewalk outside, watching the relentless flow of headlights blur into a river of golden light.

Then, I lifted my thumb and quietly typed a single word into the reply box.

"Yes."

I hit send.

Less than five seconds after the message was delivered, my phone began vibrating frantically.

Gideon's number was flashing across the screen.

I answered the call.

From the other end came the sound of his ragged, desperately controlled breathing.

He stayed silent for two agonizing seconds before asking in raw disbelief, "Yvonne... did that text mean what I think it means? Are you... really willing?"

"Yes," my voice was dead calm. "I will marry you."

I heard him draw in a sharp, shuddering breath, as if finally confirming he wasn't hallucinating.

His voice shook with an excitement he could no longer hold back.

"Really? Truly? Tell me I am not dreaming!"

He forced himself to regain composure, his tone turning fiercely protective and solemn.

"Do you want to move out of that house right now? I can arrange a place immediately. It will be completely private and safe. Nobody will ever bother you."

I agreed without a single shred of hesitation.

I felt suffocated spending even one more second in that so-called home.

"Okay," I said.

"I will send a car and a team over right away to wait for you downstairs. How much time do you need?"

"Give me an hour."

"Alright. See you in an hour. Yvonne..."

When I arrived at the penthouse, the foyer lights were on, and the air was thick with the stench of heavy liquor.

In the living room, Vivian Blake was struggling to drag a wasted Easton onto the Italian leather sofa.

Easton was leaning his entire body weight against her, slurring incoherent nonsense.

Seeing me walk in, Vivian didn't back off in the slightest; instead, she pressed her body even tighter against him.

She tilted her chin up, her tone dripping with blatant hostility.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up. Mrs. Cole. Coming home this late proves you don't care about Easton at all. But then again, you signed the papers, so this isn't your home anymore. Please get out."

She deliberately stressed the title with pure venom, scanning me up and down with sheer contempt.

"I guess older women just lose their touch. You can't even take proper care of your own man."

A drunken Easton blearily lifted his head and squinted at me.

Then he waved a limp hand at Vivian, offering a lazy, habitual defense.

"Vivian... keep it down..."

His voice was weak and dismissive, nothing more than a half-hearted attempt to shut her up.

Vivian immediately pouted, shoved Easton's chest with a dramatic huff, and let out a fake sob.

"You are yelling at me! Easton, you are yelling at me for this washed-up hag! I don't care, make her leave! I don't want to look at her ugly face right now!"