Aeisha stood frozen in the doorway, her hand trembling on the doorknob. The sight before her shattered every dream she had woven for her future. Zeus—her Zeus—was locked in a passionate embrace with Daisy, her younger sister. Daisy’s voice, a faint whisper, cut through the silence like a thunderclap.

“What am I supposed to do now that I’m pregnant with your baby?”

Pregnant. With his child.

Zeus’s face lit up, a look of pure joy spreading across his features. “Daisy, this is amazing news,” he said, pulling her closer.

Aeisha’s world tilted on its axis. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Instead, she stood rooted in place, watching as the man she loved and the sister who had stolen so much from her shared a moment of happiness. Their joy was built on the ruins of her trust, and her heart ached with each painful beat.

“She can’t find out,” Daisy whispered, her voice low but sharp. “Aeisha… she might bully me or, worse, hurt our baby.”

Hurt their baby? The accusation clawed at Aeisha’s chest, her hands curling into fists. Daisy had always painted her as the villain. For years, Daisy’s manipulations had turned their parents into strangers, their loyalty shifting entirely to her. Now, Daisy had Zeus too.

Zeus sighed and nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I’ll cancel the wedding. We’ll deal with Aeisha later.”

Cancel the wedding.

Her wedding.

The words were the final blow, breaking whatever was left of Aeisha’s resolve. Without another glance at the scene before her, she turned and walked away. The sounds of their laughter faded as she moved, the white fabric of her wedding dress trailing behind her like a ghost, mocking the happiness she’d thought awaited her.

Her mind was numb, too overwhelmed for tears. Instead, a hollow ache consumed her as she exited the venue. Outside, guests were beginning to arrive, their chatter filling the air with joy and excitement—emotions she could no longer feel. She slipped through the crowd unnoticed, her feet carrying her to the streets without any sense of direction.

The city blurred around her, a haze of lights and sounds that she barely registered. Eventually, she found herself in a quiet, dark alley, leaning against a cold brick wall. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to steady the chaos in her mind.

That was when she saw him.

A figure slumped on the ground, barely moving. The dim light from a nearby streetlamp illuminated his face, and she froze in recognition.

“Elliot Cane?” she whispered, taking a cautious step forward. It was unmistakable. The second-richest man in the city, known for his sharp business acumen and aloof demeanor, was lying bleeding in the shadows.

Panic surged through her as she knelt beside him. Blood seeped through his tailored shirt, staining the pristine fabric. “You’re hurt,” she said, her voice trembling. “I need to call an ambulance—”

“No.” His hand shot out, gripping her wrist with surprising strength. His piercing gray eyes locked onto hers, filled with pain and urgency. “Take me home. No hospitals.”

“But you’re bleeding!” she protested.

“Please,” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just… help me.”

Something in his eyes silenced her arguments. Nodding, she slipped her arm around his shoulders, helping him to his feet. His weight pressed heavily against her, but adrenaline and determination drove her forward.

She hailed a taxi, and Elliot gave her an address. By the time they reached his penthouse, her arms ached from supporting him. He directed her to a security code, and the elevator whisked them upward in tense silence.

Once inside, she guided him to a plush leather couch, his groans of pain breaking the stillness of the room. “Stay here,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. She rushed to the kitchen, searching for anything to stop the bleeding.

The pristine space gleamed under the soft lights, and she found a first aid kit tucked neatly in a drawer. Returning to his side, she knelt down and began to clean the wound, her hands shaking slightly.

“You’re surprisingly calm,” Elliot murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

“Not really,” she replied, focusing on her task. “I just… I couldn’t leave you there.”

His gaze studied her intently, a flicker of curiosity breaking through the pain. “Why were you out there? In a wedding dress, no less?”

She froze for a moment, his question hanging heavily in the air. The images of Zeus and Daisy flashed through her mind, but she pushed them aside. “It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly, resuming her work. “Let’s just say it wasn’t a good day for weddings.”

Elliot chuckled softly, though the motion made him wince. “Fair enough.”

She finished bandaging him, her movements gentle but firm. As the silence settled between them, she felt a strange sense of calm. The chaos of the day—the betrayal, the heartbreak—all seemed distant now. Helping Elliot had anchored her to the present, giving her something tangible to focus on.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere.

Aeisha offered a faint smile. “You’re welcome.”

The shrill sound of Aeisha’s phone ringing broke the silence, dragging her out of the light daze she had fallen into. She glanced at the screen: Zeus. Her chest tightened as his name glared back at her. Not long after, another call came through—this time from her parents.

Why now? Why were they looking for her when they had made it clear time and time again that their precious Daisy was their priority?

Aeisha sighed, letting the phone fall silent as her mind replayed their voices. Daisy’s soft manipulations, Zeus’s betrayal, and her parents’ cold distance swirled together in her thoughts, a relentless storm she couldn’t escape.

“You look gloomy for such an early morning.”

The voice startled her, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. She turned to see Elliot standing in the doorway of his penthouse living room. He looked better than he had the night before—pale but steady, with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Are you okay now?” Aeisha asked, ignoring his comment.

He chuckled softly as he moved toward the couch. “I’m fine, thanks to you.” He sat down, leaning back with an air of ease that contradicted the events of the night before. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me.”

She shook her head, brushing off his gratitude. “There’s no need to thank me. Anyone would’ve done the same.”

His smirk widened, amusement flickering in his gray eyes. “You’re wrong. Not everyone would have stopped for a bleeding man in a dark alley. I was lucky you were there.”

Aeisha didn’t know how to respond, so she stayed silent, her fingers fiddling with the wrinkled hem of her dress—a reminder of the chaos from the day before.

“I should go,” she said finally, rising from her chair.

Before she could take another step, his voice stopped her. “Wait.”

She turned back to him, finding his intense gaze fixed on her.

“I still haven’t paid you back,” he said.

Aeisha frowned, shaking her head again. “I told you, I don’t need anything. I just did what anyone would have.”

Elliot’s expression didn’t change, and for a moment, he seemed to be weighing his next words carefully. Then, his face shifted, showing a mixture of seriousness and hesitation.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

She hesitated, but finally nodded.

“Were you supposed to get married yesterday?”

The question caught her off guard, the weight of everything she had tried to forget rushing back. Her chest tightened, but she answered quietly, “Yes.”

Elliot’s brow furrowed slightly as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I need a favor,” he said, his voice steady but low.

Aeisha blinked, unsure of what he was leading to. “A favor?”

He nodded, his cold features softening just enough to reveal a hint of vulnerability. “Marry me.”

Her heart stopped. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his tone calm yet firm. “I need to get married—and stay married—for a year. I’m willing to pay you five hundred thousand a month. After the year is up, I’ll give you five hundred million in alimony.”

Aeisha stared at him, the words barely registering. “Marriage isn’t a game, Mr. Cane. It’s not something you just... do for convenience.”

“I know that, but a lot of people do marry for convenience,” Elliot countered, his gaze unwavering. “I need your help, and you’re in a situation where you could use mine too.”

She wanted to argue, to call the proposition ridiculous. But the way he looked at her—desperate despite his composed demeanor—made her pause.

“Why?” she asked finally. “Why me?”

“Because I trust you,” he said simply. “You saved my life last night when you didn’t have to. That tells me all I need to know about your character.”

His words left her speechless. She wanted to believe this was a cruel joke, but the intensity in his eyes told her otherwise.

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” she murmured, the weight of her reality sinking in. Zeus, Daisy, her parents—they had all turned their backs on her. She was utterly alone.

“Then let me help you,” Elliot said, his voice softer now. “You’ll have a home, financial stability, and safety. In return, you’ll help me by being my wife—for a year. After that, you’ll be free.”

The offer sounded too good to be true, and yet, the sincerity in his tone made it hard to dismiss. Aeisha searched his face for any sign of deceit but saw only a man who seemed as lost as she felt.

“Why do you need to get married?” she asked, her voice still hesitant.

He exhaled sharply, as though the question was one he had been dreading. “It’s… complicated. But I promise I’ll explain everything in time. For now, all I can say is that I need you.”

His words hung heavy in the air, full of unspoken meaning.

Marriage. It was not something Aeisha had ever considered lightly. But her world had already fallen apart. Here was someone offering her a chance—not at love, but at stability and a fresh start.

Against every instinct urging her to walk away, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Elliot’s lips curved into a faint smile, relief softening his features. “Thank you,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

In that moment, Aeisha couldn’t tell who needed saving more—Elliot or herself.

Elliot Cane moved with a sense of urgency, his sharp gaze flickering between his phone and the open space of his penthouse. The tension in the air was palpable as he spoke into the device with the precision of a man used to giving orders.

“We’re going to the court,” he announced matter-of-factly. “A court wedding is simple and efficient. No point in delaying.”

Aeisha, sitting quietly on the couch, could only stare at him in disbelief. Before she could voice her thoughts, Elliot was already instructing someone on the other end of the line. “Bring a stylist and a few white dresses. Something elegant but not over the top.”

His cold, calculated demeanor left no room for protest. This man, who only hours ago had been bleeding in an alley, was now orchestrating a wedding like it was a business transaction. The efficiency with which he moved hinted at a life accustomed to control, leaving Aeisha no choice but to follow along.

An hour later, the penthouse door opened, and a small entourage entered. Two striking men led the way, followed by two women and a team of assistants wheeling in racks of white dresses. The surreal scene felt ripped from the pages of a glossy magazine.

The taller of the two men immediately approached Elliot, his expression one of thinly veiled concern. “We’ve been worried sick,” he said, his tone sharp.

“You disappeared without contacting us,” the other added, his eyes scanning Elliot’s frame.

“I’m fine,” Elliot replied curtly, but Aeisha couldn’t hold her tongue. “He’s hurt,” she blurted out, her voice tinged with worry.

Both men froze, their gazes snapping to Elliot in alarm. “Hurt?” they said in unison, their concern palpable as they began fussing over him like overprotective siblings.

Elliot sighed, his patience clearly waning. “If you two don’t stop, I’ll dangle you outside the penthouse for 24 hours,” he threatened, his tone icy.

The threat worked instantly. Both men fell silent, though their wary glances lingered.

Turning to the women, Elliot issued his next command. “Help her find a suitable dress for the wedding.”

One of the women looked startled. “Wedding?” she exclaimed, her voice rising in surprise. “Who’s getting married?”

Elliot’s icy glare silenced any further questions. He then looked at Aeisha, his expression softening ever so slightly. “Take your time choosing,” he said. “I’ll deal with these two.”

With a hesitant nod, Aeisha allowed the women to guide her into another room, leaving Elliot to handle his business.

Elliot led the two men, Lance and Ace, into his office, the air around him colder than usual.

“Who’s the woman?” Lance asked the moment the door shut. “The one staying with you?”

Elliot leaned casually against his desk, though his tone was anything but relaxed. “She’s the one who saved me last night. I’ve asked her to marry me.”

“Marry?” Ace raised an eyebrow, his tone edged with suspicion. “I know you need someone to marry, but… what if she’s a spy?”

Elliot’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “If she is, she’ll be dead by the end of the day,” he replied, his voice chillingly calm. “That’s why I want you two to find everything there is to know about her. No mistakes.”

Ace nodded reluctantly, though a flicker of doubt remained in his eyes. “And your wound? Is it okay? Do we need to take you to the hospital?”

“The woman took care of it,” Elliot said dismissively, his gaze drifting briefly to his side where the faint ache lingered.

Lance tilted his head, his expression a mix of curiosity and exasperation. “Do you even know her name?”

The question hung in the air, the silence stretching as Elliot hesitated. Instead of answering, he waved them toward the door. “Get moving. I need results by the end of the day.”

Meanwhile, the women worked quickly, dressing Aeisha in a simple off-shoulder gown that fell just above her knees. They adorned her with a delicate wreath, a soft veil cascading lightly over her hair.

“Perfect,” one of them said, stepping back to admire their work.

But Aeisha didn’t feel perfect. She felt like a stranger in a story she didn’t belong to. Yet she couldn’t deny the beauty of the dress or the skill of the women who had crafted her transformation.

When she emerged from the room, Elliot was waiting. His gaze landed on her and lingered, his usually guarded expression softening for a moment too long.

“You look… stunning,” he said, his voice sincere despite the coolness of his demeanor.

A faint blush crept up Aeisha’s cheeks, and she glanced away. “Is it okay?” she asked hesitantly.

“It’s more than okay,” he replied, a faint smile touching his lips.

Elliot stepped closer, taking her hand in his. His touch was warm, a surprising contrast to the coldness of his exterior. “Let’s go,” he said, leading her toward the elevator.

Lance and Ace followed, their sharp eyes watching everything, while the silent men in black trailed behind. As the elevator descended, Elliot turned to Aeisha, his expression unreadable.

“What’s your name?”

The question surprised her. “Aeisha,” she said quietly.

He nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Just Aeisha?”

“Just Aeisha,” she replied, her voice steady despite the strangeness of the moment.

For a man so commanding, his silence after her response felt unexpectedly intimate. As the elevator continued its descent, Aeisha couldn’t shake the question that loomed in her mind—what, exactly, had she agreed to?