Chapter 2: A Proposition
The rain had subsided by the time Francis Carter finished his coffee. The quiet café was now buzzing with the mid-afternoon crowd, but his mind was elsewhere—fixed on the petite, calm waitress who had dared to treat him like any other customer.
Racheal. He couldn't get her out of his mind, her serene composure standing in stark contrast to the world he inhabited—a world of wealth, pressure, and power. Something about her intrigued him, something he couldn't quite place.
When he stood to leave, he glanced at her again. She was folding napkins behind the counter, her soft features relaxed as if she didn't care that she was serving a billionaire.
"Excuse me," he said, his voice cutting through the noise of the café.
Racheal looked up, startled but quickly masking her surprise with a polite smile. "Yes? Can I help you with something?"
He hesitated for a moment before speaking, his dark eyes fixed on her. "I need to talk to you. Privately."
She frowned, hesitant. "Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine. Just… I have a proposal for you."
Racheal's instincts told her to say no, to walk away. But something in his gaze stopped her—there was no malice, no arrogance, just an unusual intensity that made her heart beat faster. She nodded.
"Alright. But we can't talk here. There's too much noise."
Francis gave a curt nod and turned to leave, expecting her to follow. After a brief moment, she did, grabbing her bag and stepping outside into the now-quiet street. The air was fresh, the city still damp from the rain, but Francis didn't seem to notice. He was already pulling a business card from his wallet and handing it to her.
"I'm Francis Carter," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I need someone to help me with something, and I think you're the right person for the job."
Racheal took the card cautiously, studying it for a moment before meeting his eyes. "And what is it exactly you want?"
"A contract marriage," he said bluntly, his gaze steady and unwavering.
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "A contract marriage?"
"Yes," he confirmed. "I'm in need of a fiancée—someone who will agree to marry me for the sake of securing my inheritance. It's purely for appearances. No emotions involved, just a business deal."
Racheal's mind raced. A marriage of convenience? The offer sounded too strange to be true. She barely knew this man, and yet he was asking her to marry him—to pretend to be his wife.
"And what's in it for me?" she asked, her voice cautious but curious.
"Enough money to change your life," he replied, his tone unwavering. "I'll pay off all your debts. You'll be free to do whatever you want with your life afterward."
She blinked, stunned. Was this some kind of joke? But the seriousness in his eyes told her it was anything but.
"I'm serious, Racheal," he added, noticing the hesitation on her face. "I've done my research. You're in a difficult situation with your father's debts. I can make them disappear, and in return, you agree to be my fiancée for a year."
The proposition was both tempting and ridiculous. A fake marriage to a billionaire. The chance to be financially free, with no strings attached.
"I don't know…" She shook her head, still unsure.
"I understand it's a lot to consider," he said, his tone softening for the first time. "But think about it. You're struggling to make ends meet, and I need someone to fill a role. It's a win-win situation for both of us."
She stood there in silence for a moment, weighing the options. The practical part of her brain told her to refuse. But then she thought about the mounting bills, the pressure of her father's debts, and the weight of responsibility that seemed to follow her everywhere.
Finally, she sighed. "And what happens after this… contract? When it's over?"
"I'll set you up with enough money to start over. You'll be free," he said simply. "No strings attached."
Racheal hesitated again. There was something about Francis's presence—his confidence, his cold but undeniable charm—that made her want to believe him.
"Alright," she said, her voice firm. "I'll do it."
A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Francis's lips. He extended his hand to seal the deal.
"Good. Welcome to my world, Racheal."
End of Chapter 2