Nicholas's jaw flexed.
A flicker of irritation crossed his face as he tilted his head toward the glass wall of his office, watching traffic crawl beneath him like ants in a simulation.
"She always wanted the truth," he murmured.
There was no remorse in his voice. Just the memory of a ghost.
And ghosts couldn't hurt you—unless they came back.
The intercom crackled.
"Sir, Ms. Connie is here. She's demanding to know when the asset will be processed."
Nicholas didn't flinch. He knew what "asset" meant.
Celestela White.
Or, more precisely, what used to be her.
He leaned forward, pressing a key.
"Tell her it'll be processed when I say so," he said flatly.
"Yes, sir."
He stood, adjusting his monogrammed gold cufflinks—the ones Celestela had gifted him last winter.
The night he had taken her innocence.
A smirk tugged at his lips.
She was always too trusting.
But Golden City didn't reward trust.
It rewarded survival.
And Nicholas Francisco always, always survived.
---
The Next Morning – Golden City First General Hospital
After thorough examination, the doctors confirmed she could be discharged.
Her condition was still unstable—leaving her weak and dizzy—but with medication, proper nutrition, and regular checkups, recovery was possible.
The only problem: she had nowhere to go.
Celestelle sat by the window in the hospital waiting area, staring blankly at the morning light.
She couldn't go back to that house. Not yet.
---
The Night Before
The skyline of Golden City glowed behind tinted glass.
In an office that felt more like a throne room, a man leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping idly against dark wood.
> "Find me a wife."
The words dropped like ice in the silence of the office.
Zachary, his assistant, blinked. "Huh?" he thought he hadn't heard well enough.
He didn't repeat himself. He merely turned from the panoramic window, his obsidian eyes settling on Zachary like a verdict.
He stood tall—over six feet, shoulders squared beneath a tailored charcoal suit. His features were sculpted, aristocratic: high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and a mouth that rarely curved into anything resembling a smile. Power clung to him like a second skin.
"I don't care who. Someone clean. Quiet. Preferably without emotional baggage. I want the marriage certificate within twelve hours."
"A legal marriage. No love. No entanglements. Just find someone… suitable."
The air grew heavier. He was—ruthless in the boardroom, indifference to gossip, and a gaze that had made seasoned investors tremble. But a wife?
Zachary could only nod, flustered. "I-I'll get to it immediately."
Zachary cleared his throat. "Understood. But may I ask… why so suddenly?"
Lucien looked up.
One cold glance.
That was enough. Zachary shrank back immediately.
This was Lucien Draven Vale. The force behind Draven Vale Empire. Which consisted of industries, conglomerates, housing agents, real estate etc.
Mostly referred to as Mr. Vale in the business world.
No one dared call him casually by name.
Zachary mentally slapped himself. What made him think he could ask that?
---
Back to the Present – Hospital Grounds
Zachary had been searching all night, but no one fit the criteria. He wasn't expecting much when he stopped by the hospital to check on a colleague recovering from surgery.
But then he saw her.
She sat near the window. Pale. Haggard. Her hair uncombed, her posture dignified. Her gaze was distant, yet sharp.
When the nurse refused to discharge her, Celestelle tilted her head slightly and smiled.
"If you're afraid of the paperwork, then fetch someone who isn't. I've already signed the waiver. I don't need a babysitter."
She had spoken casually. The words had come out soft but Sharp.
The nurse looked uneasy. "You need a family member to sign off, miss. You were admitted under their authorization."
Celestelle said nothing, her fingers tightening on her skirt. She had no family sincerely, her father died,her mother died then her brother. The same as Celestela. only that Celestela had also died and she occupied her body so who could she call family? Matter of fact, had no one if her stepfather's wife and daughter heard of this they would most likely want to tie her down here.
That voice—soft but firm—caught Zachary's attention.
He stepped forward.
"I'm her big brother," Zachary said smoothly.
The nurse hesitated, confused, but handed him the form. He signed without a blink.
Celestelle blinked in surprise, confused. She hadn't expected to be discharged so soon.
She had planned to go to the marriage office at ten, find a stranger to marry, and return with a husband just to get out.
But then this… man appeared.
She stared at him, unsure. Maybe he was just kind-hearted?
Zachary, of course, hadn't helped out of kindness. He saw an opportunity—and took it.
She was young, vulnerable, clearly desperate. His instincts rarely failed him.
She was the perfect candidate.
When she looked up at him with confused eyes, he offered a faint smile and extended his hand.
"Zachary."
She hesitated before accepting it. "Celestelle."
She didn't trust easily—especially now. But he had helped her, and she owed him that much.
Still, suspicious.
"Why did you help me? You don't know me. Or… do you want something in return?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Let me make this clear—I won't be anyone's mistress. I don't do sex for favors, fame, or money."
Zachary chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "That's not what I want."
He changed the subject with a smile. "There's a new café that brews coffee and hot soya milk. Just opened nearby. Want to try it?"
---
Later, at the Café
They sat across from each other, the warm scent of roasted beans between them.
Celestelle looked lost in the modern setting. She ordered a cup of warm water.
Zachary, a seasoned city man, went with his usual black coffee.
He took a sip, then looked at her directly.
"What I want from you… isn't much," he said calmly, studying her reaction.
She didn't flinch.
So he continued.
"I want you to get married—in an hour."