Chapter 3 Last Chance

The Moonview Club was an exclusive establishment in Enoria, reserved for the elite-those with wealth, influence, or the right connections. Entry wasn't granted to just anyone; membership was a prerequisite, and privilege was the currency.

As Gianna approached the entrance, her path was immediately blocked by a stern-faced security guard who assessed her with a practiced eye. "Miss, may I see your membership card?"

Gianna's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she stood before him, acutely aware of her outsider status. "I don't have a membership. Could you wait while I make a call?"

She stepped aside, fingers trembling slightly as she dialed Aaron's number.

The line rang repeatedly, echoing her growing anxiety, but no one answered. After several attempts, she lowered the phone, disappointment etching lines across her face.

With reluctance weighing heavily on her shoulders, Gianna approached the security guard once more. "Sir, I promise I'm not causing trouble. I just need to speak to someone inside-it's urgent. Could you make an exception, just this once?"

The guard's expression remained impassive, unmoved by her plea. "I'm sorry, but rules are rules. No membership, no entry."

Unable to breach this fortress of exclusivity, Gianna retreated to a nearby corner, her shoulders hunched as she tried Aaron's number again. Her only hope was ignoring her.

And as if the night wasn't cruel enough, the sky suddenly darkened, and a light drizzle began to fall.

Autumn rains were unpredictable, arriving without warning, bringing with them a biting chill that seeped into the bones.

Within minutes, the drizzle turned into steady rainfall, the cold seeping through Gianna's thin clothes.

She shivered, her arms wrapping around herself instinctively.

Her fingers were nearly numb, yet she continued shielding her phone, stubbornly trying again. Still no answer.

Just as she was about to dial once more, a shadow fell over her, blocking the rain.

Instinctively, Gianna looked up to see a strikingly handsome face, one she recognized from the night before.

Dressed in all black, Tristan exuded an imposing presence, and in his hand, he held an umbrella, tilted slightly to shelter her from the downpour.

Her voice was unsteady. "Why are you here?"

"I was passing by." His tone was neutral, but there was something unreadable in his gaze. "By the way, my offer still stands."

Gianna stiffened. She knew what he meant.

Judging by his demeanor, the tailored cut of his clothes, and the air of authority he carried, she assumed he came from wealth. And now, he was here, likely to settle last night's encounter with a wad of hush money.

Her eyes drifted to his rain-soaked shoulder, noting his sacrifice of comfort for her benefit. After a moment's hesitation, she asked timidly, "Could you lend me some money first?"

"Of course," Tristan replied without a moment's hesitation.

Gianna blinked in surprise, taken aback by his immediate agreement. "You're not even going to ask how much?"

"Any amount is fine." Tristan absently rubbed the ring on his middle finger, his gaze intensifying as he studied her face. "But I have one condition. I'll give you the money if you marry me."

Gianna's eyes widened in shock, her lips parting slightly. Had she heard him correctly? He wasn't offering payment for her silence; he wanted matrimony?

Fear crept slowly into her heart, spreading like ice through her veins. She shook her head repeatedly, backing away slightly. "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't agree to that. I already have someone I care about."

Tristan glanced at the club's entrance, understanding dawning on him. "The man you care about left you standing in the cold rain while he enjoys himself inside?"

The color drained from Gianna's face. Her lips moved as if to form a rebuttal, but no sound emerged.

Witnessing her vulnerable state, Tristan sighed, a mixture of anger and compassion crossing his features. "This is your last chance. Take a moment to think it through."

Inner conflict tore at Gianna's thoughts. Her grandmother's illness required immediate funds, yet the prospect of binding herself to this stranger, despite their intimate encounter, filled her with apprehension.

Her eyes drifted once more to the club's entrance, a final, desperate hope that Aaron might emerge and rescue her from this impossible choice.

At that precise moment, her phone erupted in sound. The hospital's number flashed across the screen, sending a wave of anxiety crashing through her.

With trembling hands, Gianna answered the call.

"Is this Miss Lloyd? Your grandmother's condition has worsened. We need your immediate authorization for surgery, or we may not be able to save her." The doctor's stern voice pierced through the ambient noise of rainfall.

Panic flooded Gianna's system, her eyes reddening with unshed tears. Her hands grew icy, barely maintaining their grip on the phone as the gravity of the situation settled upon her.

"Miss Lloyd? Are you there?"

"Yes. I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

After disconnecting the call, Gianna clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. In that moment of crisis, clarity emerged from chaos. Her decision crystallized with painful finality.

She turned to face Tristan, resolution hardening her features despite the fear still lurking in her eyes. "I agree. Save my grandmother, and I'll marry you."