Chapter 4 Blair's POV

I remained standing, still in shock. I had never expected him to be the CEO of the company.

"Sit," he said, pointing to the seat in front of him.

"Why?" I managed to croak out. "It's not like you have the intention of hiring me anyway."

There was no way someone like him would overlook what happened between us a few weeks ago and offer me a job. He had likely only allowed me into his office to ridicule me and exact revenge, like the way of the rich.

"It is better for me to leave now and search for a job elsewhere." I thought.

"Now, now, don't jump to hasty conclusions, Miss Rodrigo. You're a skilled and talented dressmaker, which is exactly what we need at The Wyatts. I do have intentions of hiring you, but..." he paused, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

"But what?" I asked impatiently. "If you think I'm going to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness, then don't even bother saying it because, I won't."

I tried to maintain my composure, although deep down, I was quite affected.

He chuckled briefly. "Beg for my forgiveness? No, darling, I have something much better in mind. But I'll only disclose it if you take a seat."

What condition could he possibly propose? After a few seconds of hesitation, I reluctantly agreed to sit and hear him out.

"Marry me," he demanded. "And I'll handle your grandmother's hospital bills and your brother's court case... Otherwise, prepare to face assault charges for hitting me and potential jail time."

I felt like I had just been hit in the face, shocked by his words as I stared at him with wide eyes.

"Marry you?" I repeated, and he nodded confidently, and I burst into laughter.

"You...m..must...be...kidding," I said amidst the laughter.

His irritation grew as he responded, "Do I look like I'm joking?" His tone turned even more serious, causing me to halt my laughter and gaze at him with a puzzled look.

"How did you find out about my grandmother and my brother's situation?" I asked, seeking answers, and he scoffed.

"I'm Roland Wyatt, darling," He simply replied without giving further explanation, and then cleared his throat.

"Now, back to what we were saying...It's either you marry me and I take care of everything I mentioned earlier, or you get sued for assault and get jailed just like your brother." He said it with a tone of finality.

My brows furrowed, "Jail? Just because of a slap? That's absurd!"

He leaned in, his voice low and dangerous. "You underestimate my influence, darling. With a few well-placed calls, I can make this 'simple slap' turn into a much bigger legal issue."

"Assault charges, a trial, media attention... Do you really want all that?"

The tension in the office intensified as he continued, "Marry me, or I'll make your whole life a living hell. The ball is in your court, darling. Which post are you kicking it into?"

"You must be a joker!" I said it all of a sudden, slamming my hands on the table as I stood up. "Even if you are the last man on Earth, I'd prefer to stay single than to marry you."

I turned in my heels to leave but came to a halt when I heard his next words. "Even if your grandmother dies?"

"I've been informed that if the transplant doesn't happen this week, her chances of survival decrease significantly in the following week." He paused, letting his words sink in.

"Miss Rodrigo, I've made all the necessary arrangements, including finding a donor... There won't be a need to donate yours. Just give me your word, and it will be done."

*****

The wedding hall was a vision of pure romance, with white linen tablecloths and sparkling crystal chandeliers. Bouquets of fresh flowers adorned the tables, filling the air with their fragrance.

The windows were draped with ivory silk, and the room bathed in soft candlelight. Everyone was dressed in their finest attire-the women in beautiful gowns and the men in crisp suits.

Standing face to face with the man I now dreaded the most-Roland Wyatt, dressed in a black suit with a subtle sheen that caught the light.

The fabric looked smooth and luxurious, and it fitted him perfectly. His tie was a rich burgundy, and his shoes were polished black. Everything about him was impeccable, from the tip of his shoes to the top of his neatly styled hair. He looked very dashing.

My dress was simple and elegant, with a flowing skirt and a fitted bodice, and a small train trailing behind me. But despite the beauty of the dress, my eyes were full of doubt and uncertainty.

I began to question my decision to marry a man I barely knew, especially one with such a disgusting character.

"Do you, Roland Wyatt, take Blair Rodrigo as your lawfully wedded wife?" The priest asked, facing Roland.

"Yes, I do." He replied without hesitation and with a smile on his face.

Turning to me, "Do you, Blair Rodrigo, take Roland Wyatt as your lawfully wedded husband?"

I lost in thoughts that I didn't hear the priest's question. If I were to change my mind now, my grandmother's treatment would be stopped-as it was only half of the bills he has paid yet, and my brother would remain in jail.

"Do you, Blair Rodrigo, take Roland Wyatt as your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asked again.

Mummurs rose, Roland's mother, Aria Wyatts was worried as sweat broke on her forehead.

Roland's mother had been so happy when Roland announced his wish to get married to me. She had gone ahead to call her friends and inform them. Unlike Roland, she was receptive and accommodating. She welcomed me like her daughter.

Roland squeezed my hand, snapping me back to the present. I looked from him to the priest, who repeated, "Do you, Blair Rodrigo, take Roland Wyatt as your lawfully wedded husband?"

After some seconds of silence, I finally replied, "Yes, yes, I do."

Instantly, I felt like I had just accepted to sold my soul to the devil.