ISABELLA'S POV: "You forgot the sugar." I stopped halfway across the restaurant. I looked down at the tray in my hands. Three cups of coffee. Three saucers. One small bowl of sugar. I frowned. I hadn't forgotten the sugar. I had been specifically asked to bring it. "I'm sorry," I said, turning toward the table I'd just served. The elderly woman sitting there pointed at the empty space beside her husband's coffee. "Could we have another bowl?" "Of course." I gave her an apologetic smile. "I'll bring it right away." I turned toward the counter, but before I could take a step, my phone vibrated inside my apron pocket. Once. Twice. I knew who it was. I didn't need to look. My father rarely called while I was working unless something was wrong. I hurried behind the counter and slipped the phone out. Dad. My stomach tightened. I answered immediately. "Dad?" "I'm fine." I closed my eyes briefly. That was the first thing he always said whenever he knew I'd worry. "Are you sure?" "Yes. I just wanted to remind you about the pharmacy." "I haven't forgotten." There was a short silence. "The medicine is almost finished," he said quietly. "I know." "Isabella-" "I said I know, Dad." I softened my voice. "I'll pick it up after work." "You don't have to rush." "I know." "You've already been working all day." "I'll be fine." Another silence. Then my father sighed. "Don't work yourself sick." A small smile touched my lips. "I won't." I ended the call and stared at my phone for a moment. My bank balance flashed through my mind. Then the rent. Then the electricity bill. Then the pharmacy. I pushed all three thoughts away. One problem at a time. "Isabella!" I slipped my phone back into my pocket. "Coming!" The Grand Crest Hotel was never quiet. Even at night. Crystal chandeliers illuminated the restaurant, silverware clinked against porcelain, and conversations drifted through the room beneath the soft music playing overhead. I'd worked there for almost a year. Long enough to know which guests tipped generously. Long enough to recognize the businessmen who complained about everything. Long enough to know that some people came to the Grand Crest because they genuinely enjoyed luxury, while others came simply because they enjoyed being seen surrounded by it. I'd learned not to judge either group. Luxury was simply another world. One I served, but didn't belong to. As I passed the entrance, I caught sight of someone I'd been trying very hard not to notice. Adrian Knight. He was sitting at table seven. Again. I'd seen him there three times that week. Always in the same corner. Always surrounded by different people. Always looking like he had somewhere more important to be. I didn't know much about him. I didn't need to. I knew the name, of course. Everyone did. Adrian Knight was the CEO of Knight Holdings, one of the largest companies in the country. His photograph had appeared in business magazines more times than I could count. But the man sitting across the restaurant didn't look like the smiling executive in those photographs. He looked tired. Not physically. Something deeper. His dark suit was immaculate, his black hair neatly styled, and his expression was controlled enough to discourage conversation. He rarely spoke. He mostly listened. And somehow, I'd noticed that whenever I walked past his table, his eyes followed me. I told myself it meant nothing. People looked at waitresses. It was normal. I turned away. "Isabella." I looked over my shoulder. Mr. Collins, the restaurant manager, was standing near the kitchen entrance. "Table seven." My heart sank. "Again?" His eyebrows rose. "You sound disappointed." "No. I just-" "He asked for you." I glanced toward the table. Adrian was looking directly at me. I swallowed. "Did he say why?" "No." Mr. Collins handed me a notepad. "Just go." Wonderful. I forced a smile and walked toward table seven. As I approached, the two men sitting with Adrian fell silent. One of them looked at me. Then at Adrian. Then back at me. I stopped beside the table. "Good evening." Adrian's gaze lifted to mine. Up close, his eyes were darker than I'd expected. Not cold. Just difficult to read. I waited. Nothing. I glanced at the other two men. They were staring at me too. "Mr. Knight requested me?" "Yes." His voice was calm. I held my notepad a little tighter. "Is there a problem with your service?" "No." "Your meal?" "No." "Then..." I waited. One of the men beside him cleared his throat. Adrian didn't look away from me. "You've worked here for almost a year." It wasn't a question. I blinked. "Yes." "You're always on the evening shift." "Most evenings." "And you leave at eleven." I stared at him. "How do you know that?" For the first time, something shifted in his expression. Not quite amusement. "I'm observant." "That doesn't answer my question." The man beside him suddenly coughed. I realized I'd spoken more sharply than I intended. "Sorry." Adrian leaned back in his chair. "Don't apologize." I didn't know what to say to that. So I looked down at my notepad. "Would you like anything?" "Coffee." "Black?" "Yes." I wrote it down. "Anything else?" "No." I turned. "Isabella." I stopped. "Your necklace." My fingers instinctively touched the small silver pendant resting against my collarbone. "What about it?" "Where did you get it?" I looked down at it. "My mother gave it to me." Something unreadable crossed his face. "Your mother?" "Yes." He said nothing else. I frowned. Then I walked away. What a strange man. I returned a few minutes later with his coffee. When I placed the cup in front of him, his eyes dropped briefly to the necklace again. I noticed. This time, I said nothing. I turned to leave. "Thank you," he said. I looked back. "You're welcome." I walked away. For the rest of the evening, I tried to forget about him. I couldn't. Not because he had been flirtatious. He hadn't. Not because he'd been rude. He hadn't. It was simply the way he watched me. Like he was trying to remember something about me that I'd never told him. By ten thirty, the restaurant had begun to empty. I wiped down a table while checking the time. Thirty minutes. Then I could go home. I still had to stop at the pharmacy. I was reaching for another stack of plates when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned. Adrian Knight stood there. Alone. My heart gave a small, inexplicable jump. "Mr. Knight?" He slipped one hand into his trouser pocket. "I need to ask you something." I glanced toward the clock. "What is it?" "Would you be willing to meet me tomorrow?" I stared at him. "Why?" "I'd like to discuss a business proposition." My eyebrows drew together. "With me?" "Yes." I almost laughed. "I don't think you have the right person." "I don't think I do either." That stopped me. Adrian reached into his jacket. For a second, I expected him to pull out another business card. Instead, he placed a white envelope on the table between us. My name was written across the front. ISABELLA HART. My stomach tightened. "How do you know my full name?" Adrian's expression remained unreadable. "I did my research." I didn't touch the envelope. "What kind of business proposition requires research?" His gaze held mine. "The kind I don't discuss in a hotel restaurant." He stepped back. "Tomorrow. Nine o'clock." "Where?" "My office." He walked away before I could answer. "Mr. Knight." He stopped. I stared at his back. "I don't even know what you're asking me to do." He turned his head slightly. "You will tomorrow." Then he left. I stood completely still. After a moment, I looked down at the envelope again. My name stared back at me. I slowly picked it up. There was something inside. Something thick. Something that felt like several sheets of paper. I opened it. The first page contained only one sentence. My eyes moved across the words. And then stopped. MARRIAGE PROPOSAL - ONE YEAR CONTRACT. My breath caught. I read it again. Then again. My fingers tightened around the paper. "What the hell...?"

ISABELLA'S POV: "What the hell...?" I stared at the words on the page. MARRIAGE PROPOSAL - ONE YEAR CONTRACT. For several seconds, I couldn't move. Then I looked around the restaurant as if someone might be watching me. Most of the tables were empty now. The last few guests were preparing to leave, and the waiters were busy clearing dishes. No one seemed to care that my entire world had just tilted sideways. I looked back at the contract. Marriage. Adrian Knight wanted me to marry him. For one year. I let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to a laugh. This had to be a joke. Maybe some kind of elaborate prank. I turned the page. My eyes scanned the words. Term: One year. I swallowed. Compensation: Five million dollars. My heart stopped. Five million. I read it again. Five million dollars. My fingers tightened around the paper. There was no way. I continued reading. One marriage. No love. No expectations. No promises. I stared at the page. Who in their right mind wrote a marriage contract like this? I flipped to the next page. There were more terms. Separate rooms. A public appearance schedule. Confidentiality. No interference in each other's personal affairs. No emotional obligations. And, most importantly, the marriage would end after one year. I slowly lowered the papers. This was insane. I'd known Adrian Knight for only a short time. I'd spoken to him properly for less than ten minutes. And somehow, he'd already decided I was the woman he wanted to marry. I glanced toward the restaurant entrance. He was gone. Of course he was. He'd dropped a marriage contract in my hands and walked away like he'd simply asked me to bring him another cup of coffee. "Unbelievable." I shoved the papers back into the envelope. I should return it. Immediately. I picked up my bag and headed toward the staff room. I needed to change. I needed to go home. And most importantly, I needed to forget this ridiculous night had ever happened. By the time I left the hotel, it was almost eleven thirty. The night air was cooler than I'd expected. I pulled my cardigan tighter around myself and started walking toward the pharmacy. The envelope was still in my bag. I had considered leaving it at the hotel. I hadn't. I didn't know why. Maybe because five million dollars was difficult to ignore. Especially when every bill in my life seemed determined to remind me that I didn't have enough money. My father's medication. The rent. The electricity. The repairs we still hadn't been able to afford around the house. Five million dollars could solve all of it. More than that. It could change everything. I stopped walking. "No." I shook my head. I wasn't going to think about it. There was no way I was marrying a stranger. Especially not a man who had apparently researched my life before approaching me. That alone should have been enough to scare me. I continued walking. But the number followed me. Five million. The next morning, I woke up before my alarm. For a moment, I didn't remember why. Then I saw the envelope sitting on my bedside table. I groaned. "Right." The contract. I sat up slowly. My room was quiet. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting pale lines across the floor. For a few seconds, I simply stared at the envelope. Then my phone rang. Dad. I answered. "Good morning." "Good morning, sweetheart." His voice sounded better today. That made me smile. "How are you feeling?" "Fine." "Did you take your medicine?" "Yes." "Are you sure?" He laughed softly. "You sound like the parent." "Someone has to be responsible." There was a pause. "Are you coming by today?" "Yes. After I finish something." "What something?" I looked at the envelope. "Work." It wasn't exactly a lie. I just didn't know how to explain that my work had somehow led to a billionaire offering me five million dollars to become his wife. "I'll be there this afternoon," I said. "Don't forget to eat." "I won't." "And Isabella?" "Yes?" "Don't worry about me too much." I smiled faintly. "That's impossible." We said goodbye, and I ended the call. I sat there for another minute. Then I reached for the envelope. I had made my decision. I would go to Adrian Knight's office. Not because I had agreed. Not because I was considering marrying him. I simply wanted answers. And if he expected me to sign something without asking questions, he had chosen the wrong woman. Knight Holdings occupied an entire glass building in the center of the city. I stood outside the entrance for a moment, looking up. I'd seen buildings like this in magazines. I'd never imagined I'd actually walk into one. I adjusted my handbag and stepped inside. The lobby was enormous. Marble floors. Polished walls. People moving quickly in expensive suits. Everyone seemed to know exactly where they were going. I suddenly felt very aware of my simple blouse and skirt. A receptionist looked up. "Good morning." "Good morning. I'm here to see Mr. Knight." "Do you have an appointment?" "Yes." She checked her computer. "Name?" "Isabella Hart." Her fingers moved across the keyboard. Then she looked up. "Mr. Knight is expecting you." Of course he was. She handed me a visitor's badge and directed me toward the elevators. When the doors opened on the executive floor, a man was standing nearby. He looked to be around Adrian's age. Tall. Well-dressed. Dark-haired. But unlike Adrian, there was something much more relaxed about him. He glanced at me. Then at the badge around my neck. Then back at me. "You're Isabella." I hesitated. "Yes." His mouth curved into a small smile. "I'm Sebastian Cole." He extended his hand. "Sebastian is fine, but you can call me Seb." I shook his hand. "Nice to meet you." "Likewise." His eyes briefly moved toward the closed office door behind him. Then back to me. "So you're the woman Adrian asked to come here." There was something amused in his voice. I frowned slightly. "Yes." Seb smiled. "Interesting." "What is?" "Nothing." I gave him a skeptical look. He laughed softly. "Don't worry. Adrian doesn't usually surprise me." I wasn't sure what that meant. Before I could ask, he continued. "I'm his best friend, by the way." I blinked. "You're Adrian's best friend?" "Unfortunately." I couldn't help smiling. He grinned. "We've known each other for years. Long enough for me to know when he's about to do something completely unreasonable." I glanced toward Adrian's office. "And this is one of those times?" Seb's smile widened. "I'll let you decide that." He seemed completely different from Adrian. More approachable. Less intimidating. "Do you work with him?" I asked. "Sometimes." "Sometimes?" "Let's just say Adrian handles the serious business. I make sure he remembers there's a world outside his office." I smiled. "That sounds like a difficult job." "You have no idea." Before I could respond, the office door behind him opened. Adrian stepped out. His gaze moved from Seb to me. Then back to Seb. "What are you doing here?" Seb shrugged. "Visiting my best friend." "You could have called." "And miss the opportunity to annoy you in person?" Adrian gave him a flat look. Seb only smiled. Then he turned toward me. "Good luck, Isabella." I frowned. "Why are you saying that?" "Because you're about to have a conversation with Adrian." I almost laughed. Adrian's expression darkened. "Seb." "I'm going." Seb walked past him, still smiling. I watched him disappear down the hallway. Then I looked at Adrian. "Your friend is interesting." "He talks too much." "I noticed." Something almost resembling amusement crossed Adrian's face. Almost. He stepped aside. "Come in." I entered his office. The room was exactly what I'd expected. Large windows overlooking the city. Dark furniture. A massive desk. Everything neat. Everything controlled. Just like him. Adrian closed the door behind me. I remained standing. He gestured toward the chair. "Sit." I sat. He took the seat across from me. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then I placed the envelope on the table. "I came to return this." His eyes dropped to it. "You read it." "Yes." "And?" I stared at him. "And I have questions." "Ask." I folded my hands in my lap. "Why me?" His expression didn't change. "I told you yesterday." "No. You told me you did your research." "I did." "That doesn't explain why you chose me." He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Because I need a wife." I almost laughed. "And apparently you decided a waitress you've seen a few times would be perfect." "You're honest." I frowned. "That's your reason?" "One of them." "What are the others?" He leaned back. "You don't seek attention." "I don't have time to seek attention." "You're discreet." "Because I value my privacy." "You don't have a complicated personal life." I stared at him. "How would you know?" "I know enough." I didn't like that answer. "That's unsettling." "I understand." "At least you admit it." He looked at me for a moment. Then he reached for the contract. "I don't expect you to decide today." I blinked. "You don't?" "No." He pushed the envelope back toward me. "Read everything carefully." I looked down at the papers. "Why me, Adrian?" It was the first time I'd used his first name. His eyes lifted to mine. For the first time since I'd met him, he looked almost uncomfortable. "I'll explain everything when you're ready." "That sounds like you're hiding something." "I am." My stomach tightened. "What?" He held my gaze. "Something that doesn't need to be part of the contract." I stared at him. There it was again. That feeling. That strange sense that Adrian Knight knew something about me that I didn't know about him. I stood. "I need time." "You have it." I picked up the envelope. "I'll think about it." "I expected you to." I walked toward the door. My hand was on the handle when his voice stopped me. "Isabella." I turned. He looked at me. "If you accept, your father will be taken care of." My entire body went still. "How do you know about my father?" Adrian said nothing. My grip tightened around the envelope. "Adrian." He looked away briefly. Then back at me. "I told you. I did my research." I stared at him. Suddenly, five million dollars didn't feel nearly as simple as it had last night. I opened the door. And walked out. But one question followed me all the way down the hallway. What exactly had Adrian Knight discovered about me?

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.