"Kriiinnnng. Kriinnng".

Marie rolled over in her bed, instinctively reached out to silence the alarm clock. Her body was an autopilot, as it has been years now -every moment precise and every action calculated. After all, when you worked for Welder Batista, CEO of Batista Enterprise.

She sat up on her bed while rubbing her eyes. She then stretched her arms and smiled. She walked to her window to open the blinds of her small and tidy apartment. The weather seemed so good today. Today is Monday, which only means it's the busiest day throughout the week. Long working hours, demanding tasks and navigating the chaotic corporate life.

Marie knew that she was expected to deliver, day in and day out without a fail. She was the epitome of a prefect assistant: efficient, discreet, and always one step ahead. And she moved towards her bathroom.

As the hot water from the shower cascaded over her, washing away the last vestiges of sleep, Marie let her mind wander. She had been working for Welder for nearly five years now—five years of dedication, late nights, and personal sacrifices. Her friends often joked that she was married to her job, and Marie couldn't argue with them. There wasn't much else in her life besides work.

But that was the choice she had made, wasn't it? Marie had always been ambitious, driven by a desire to prove herself, to carve out a place in the world. She had worked hard to climb the corporate ladder, and landing a position as Welder Batista's executive assistant had been the pinnacle of her achievements. It was a role that came with power and prestige, and Marie had embraced it wholeheartedly.

Still, as she wrapped a towel around herself and wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror, she couldn't ignore the faint lines of fatigue etched around her eyes, the tiredness that seemed to cling to her no matter how much she slept. It wasn't just physical exhaustion—it was the mental and emotional toll of a life lived on the edge, always pushing, always striving. There was a part of her that longed for something more, something beyond the confines of her career.

But what? Marie didn't have time to dwell on such thoughts. She had a job to do, and Welder Batista wasn't the kind of boss who tolerated distractions. With a sigh, she quickly dressed in her usual work attire—a tailored black blazer, a crisp white blouse, and a pencil skirt that accentuated her slender frame. Professional, polished, and unassuming. Just like her.

As she grabbed her bag and headed out the door, Marie mentally reviewed the day ahead. The calendar she had meticulously organized was packed, as usual. There were meetings with department heads, conference calls with international clients, and, of course, the dreaded quarterly review. But Marie was prepared; she always was. After five years of working with Welder, she had learned to anticipate his every need, to stay two steps ahead in the game they played.

The ride to the office was uneventful, the city outside the car window a blur of movement and noise. Marie barely noticed. Her mind was already at the office, going over the details of the morning's meetings, mentally rehearsing what she would say to Welder when she arrived. She needed to remind him about the upcoming charity gala, confirm the reservations for his lunch with the board, and make sure the new marketing proposal was ready for review.

When the car pulled up to the modern, glass-and-steel facade of Batista Enterprises, Marie was ready. She stepped out, her heels clicking confidently on the polished marble floor as she made her way through the bustling lobby. She exchanged polite nods with the reception staffs, her eyes already scanning the hallway for any signs of potential delays or issues that might need her attention.

As she stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the executive floor, Marie took a deep breath. This was where she belonged—in the heart of the corporate world, where power and ambition collided, where decisions were made that shaped the future of industries. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once, but Marie wouldn't have it any other way.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Marie stepped out into the quiet, mirror corridor that led to Welder Batista's office. This was a different world from the hustle and bustle of the lower floors—a world of calm efficiency, where every detail was meticulously controlled. Marie's footsteps were muffled by the thick carpet as she approached the heavy mahogany door that marked the entrance to Welder's inner sanctum.

She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before sliding the door open. As she stepped inside, she was greeted by the familiar sight of Welder's office. An elegantly furnished space that exuded power and authority. The large windows offered a panoramic view of the city, but Marie's attention was immediately drawn to the man seated behind the imposing mahogany desk.

Welder Batista was every bit the embodiment of the corporate titan. Tall, with a commanding presence that seemed to fill the room, he was the kind of man who turned heads wherever he went. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his suit tailored to perfection, and his hazelnut brown eyes sharp and calculating. He was a man who thrived on control, on power, and Marie had spent the last five years learning how to navigate the complex dynamics of their working relationship.

"Good morning, Ms. Santos," Welder said, his voice low and steady, the words carrying an unspoken authority.

"Good morning, Mr. Batista," Marie replied, putting her bag down on her desk and quickly scanning the calendar on her tablet. She rattled off his schedule for the day, each item perfectly aligned to maximize his time and efficiency. "Your first meeting is in thirty minutes. I've already prepared the presentation materials and sent the agenda to all attendees."

Welder nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than usual. Marie felt unease, wondering if she had forgotten something. But before she could ask, Welder stood up, moving away from the desk and toward the windows. His hands were clasped behind his back, a gesture that Marie had come to recognize as a sign that something was bothering on his mind.

"There's something I need to discuss with you, Ms. Santos," he said, his tone giving nothing away. Marie's heart skipped a beat. Discussions with Welder were usually about work, and they usually meant more responsibilities being piled onto her already full plate. She was used to it, of course, but there was something about the way he was standing, the way he had spoken, that made her pause.

"Yes, Mr. Batista?", she nervously answered she tried to be neutral.

Welder turned to face her, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made Marie's breath catch. "I need your help with a personal matter," he said slowly, as if each word was a calculated move in a game she didn't yet understand.

A personal matter? Marie's mind raced. Welder Batista didn't have personal matters. At least, not that he ever shared. He was the epitome of a workaholic, someone who lived and breathed the business. The idea that he had something personal to discuss was enough to throw Marie off balance.

"Of course sir. What do you need?", with a cautious voice.

Welder hesitated, a rare occurrence that only heightened Marie's sense of unease. She could see the gears turning in his mind, the way his jaw tightened as he considered how to phrase his next words. Finally, he took a deep breath and met her gaze squarely.

"I need you to marry me," he said, his voice calm and measured, as if he were discussing a routine business matter. Marie froze, her mind struggling to process the words that had just come out of his mouth. Surely, she had misheard him. "Excuse me?" she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. Welder's expression didn't waver. "I need you to marry me," he repeated, his tone as steady as ever.