(Grayson's POV)
The city was quieter at night. Or maybe it just sounded that way from the top floor of the Reed Tower.
I loosened my tie as the last of the office lights flicked off across the street. My reflection stared back from the glass, calm, sharp. Exactly the kind of man he had trained myself to be.
I should've gone home hours ago. Instead, I sat in my office, staring at the faint outline of her name on the contract folder in front of me.
Lilian Blake.
The offer I'd given her, marry me or pay your father's debt was as ruthless as it sounded. Even for me.
I told myself it was logical and necessary.
I needed a wife, not for love, not for companionship but for convenience.
My grandfather's will had been explicit: Marry within six months, or lose control of Reed Industries to the board.
I wasn't about to let that happen, not after all the blood, sweat and tears I've poured into this company
But marriage for the sake of image was messy and risky. Especially with someone from my own world. They'd expect affection, partnership… things I didn't have the time or patience for.
Lilian Blake, however, was different.
Quiet. Careful. Too honest for her own good.
The kind of woman who'd agree to impossible terms just to protect what little she had left.
That screamed safe.
That was the word I kept circling back to. She was safe.
So why did I still feel that strange pull in my chest when she'd looked at me, eyes wide and full of disbelief, like she'd just been pushed off a cliff?
I pushed the thought away and stood, grabbing my coat. Logic. That was all this was. Logic.
The elevator doors opened into the penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the room, framing the city lights like a painting.
The place was silent, too silent.
I poured himself a drink, the amber liquid catching the light. It burned down my throat as usual
Everything about my life was controlled and calculated. Every deal, every number, every person in my orbit
Until her.
I could still hear her voice, shaking. "This isn't fair."
And my own reply, "Life isn't fair."
I'd said it to remind her. Maybe to remind myself, too.
I set the glass down and exhaled slowly. "Forty-eight hours, either she agrees, or it's over."
That was supposed to settle it.
My phone buzzed. A message from my friend and legal advisor, Mason:
You really think this marriage thing will work?
She looks… well, she looks like what she looks like.
I typed back:
It's a business transaction. Nothing more.
I tossed the phone onto the counter, convincing myself it was true.
Lilian's POV
Across the city, I sat in a corner booth of a small pub near my apartment.
The place was dim, half-empty. Old music played from a speaker in the corner, and the bartender didn't bother hiding her pity when I ordered the cheapest drink on the menu.
I wasn't a drinker. But tonight, I needed something to quiet the noise in my head.
Marry him.
The words replayed in my mind over and over.
It wasn't even the proposal itself that scared me most; it was how calm he'd been when he said it. Like he'd already decided my future for me.
My phone buzzed. A message from my landlord, another reminder about rent.
I swallowed hard and looked down at my glass.
Everything was slipping again. Every part of my father's mistakes seemed to be dragging me further under.
I'd worked hard to rebuild my life, kept my head down, stayed invisible. And now, one man, one signature, could erase all of it.
A couple laughed across the room, breaking my thoughts. The woman leaned in close to the man, her face soft with affection.
I looked away. I had to
I didn't believe in love stories anymore.
Still, something about the idea of marrying someone like Grayson Reed, that cold, ruthless, no nonsense, terrifying, man made my chest ache in a way I didn't really know how to explain.
Would he actually go through with it?
I didn't know what scared me more, that he would, or that I might say yes, because let's face it. I didn't really have an option, it's not like I can cough out one million dollars before Monday. What do I have to loose? Asides my sanity…. maybe
Grayson's POV
I sat in my home office, laptop open, reviewing files I wasn't really reading. And my mind kept drifting back to her.
I could still see the way she'd stood in my office, trying so hard not to break. There was something quietly defiant about her.
Most people cowered under my stare. She had, too, at first. But then she'd met my eyes and said "You can't— this isn't fair."
It wasn't defiance. It was conviction.
And that… intrigued me.
I hated that it did.
I shut my laptop, rubbed my temples, and leaned back in my chair.
This wasn't supposed to be complicated.
She needed a way out.
I needed a name on a contract.
It was supposed to be transactional. Efficient and Ruthless.
But I kept hearing her voice.
I wasn't entirely sure what I wanted more now, her signature or her silence.
By Saturday morning, Mason called as I was getting dressed for the gym.
"She's the one you picked?" Mason's voice crackled through the speaker. "You could have anyone in this city, and you pick the girl who nearly got herself fired?"
"She's convenient," I said flatly.
"Convenient," Mason repeated, unimpressed. "Right. Because that's what marriage is for."
"Drop it."
There was a pause. "You know this isn't just a contract. Once it's done, it's done. Public. Permanent. You'll have to live with it."
"I'm aware."
"Then maybe ask yourself why it has to be her."
I didn't answer.
I hung up and left the phone on the counter
I didn't owe anyone an explanation… maybe not even myself.
Saturday bled into Sunday.
I worked. Trained. Worked again. But no matter what I did, I couldn't stop thinking about what her answer would be.
She was unpredictable, the one variable in a life I'd built on control.
If she said no, I'd find another way. I always do
If she said yes…
I wasn't sure which outcome unsettled me more.
Lilian's POV
By Sunday night, the city was soft with rain.
I stood at my apartment window, watching the lights blur through the glass. My hands were cold, the letter still sitting on my kitchen table beside the untouched plate of dinner.
Forty-eight hours.
Tomorrow morning, I'd have to walk back into that office and give him my answer.
I didn't know what kind of man Grayson Reed really was; only that he wasn't the kind of man you could say no to easily.
And I was running out of choices.
Grayson
Back at his penthouse, Grayson stood by the window, phone in hand, checking the time.
Almost midnight.
He knew she wouldn't call. Still, he waited.
For a man who claimed not to care, he sure seemed invested in her silence.