Chapter 2 The proposal

Oliver sat in his office, swirling a glass of whiskey, his father's ultimatum ringing in his ears like an unforgiving echo. Two weeks to get married or lose everything. The words kept reverberating in his skull, and it got louder each each second that passed

His office was very quiet, on a very cold morning, The chimney was burning with flames to keep the office warm as it seemed whiskey wasn't enough.

It was absurd and preposterous, that someone like him, the heir to a billion-dollar empire and the future CEO of Langston Holdings, would ever find himself in this kind of awkward moment, when he had to be forced into marriage by his own father.

He had read about stories like that in various romance novels but right now it's happening, it's his reality.

Sitting opposite him was James Hamilton, lounged in one of the leather armchairs like he owned the place. His blue suit barely creased as he stretched out his legs. There was a smirk playing on his lips, the kind that Oliver had come to associate with trouble.

"Now can you tell me what the problem is?" Oliver said quickly knowing that James wanted to tell him something that he might not want to hear.

"I found someone," James said, breaking the silence.

Oliver narrowed his eyes. "Found someone for what?"

James leaned forward and slid a slim file folder across the desk. "To be your wife."

Oliver raised his brow in surprise, more out of disbelief than curiosity. "You're joking right?"

"Nope," James replied smoothly. "Charlotte Chesterfield. Mid-twenties. Graduated from a decent university. Recently laid off, drowning in student debt, and facing eviction. She's desperate for money, and you're desperate for a wife. It's a perfect trade."

Oliver opened the file lazily, but something caught his attention almost immediately: the photo attached to her resume. His lips curled into a slow, intrigued smirk. He recognized her.

The previous day, he had stormed out of a board meeting, frustrated by the news of his father's ultimatum. On his way back to the elevator, he'd bumped into a woman in the lobby, literally. She'd dropped her phone and some crumpled papers, and he hadn't even apologized. He remembered how her eyes had widened as if recognizing him, but she'd quickly looked away, cheeks flushed.

That was her. Charlotte Chesterfield.

He flipped through the rest of the file: work history, family background, medical records, it was all there. James was thorough.

"She's... pretty," Oliver said thoughtfully.

"Pretty won't save your empire, but desperation might," James quipped. "She's the kind of girl who won't ask too many questions. Do the paperwork, pay her off, and in six months, you're free-with your inheritance intact."

Oliver leaned back, tapping his fingers against the glass of whiskey. His father had made it clear: get married to a respectable woman or watch everything get handed over to his cousin-a sleazy trust-fund brat who wouldn't last a day in the boardroom.

"She's too sweet-looking," Oliver murmured. "Too innocent."

"All the better," James said. "Means she won't try to play you."

Oliver chuckled. "I prefer a challenge."

James shrugged. "A challenge means time, and time is the one thing you don't have."

He wasn't wrong. Oliver still wasn't convinced that Charlotte should be dragged into his mess. He bowed his head for some seconds before lifting it again and nodded in disagreement.

Oliver finally said "I know that I don't have time, I also know that I need to get this done immediately." He continued, "James, you don't understand what I'm trying to say."

He stood up from his chair now and walked to the window and stared outside for a while. James sat quietly and listened while he spoke.

He added before James could say anything "The young lady we're talking about here is from a very poor background and she's also very decent, which means that she must have been through a lot in life and the last thing I want to do now is add to her misery."

James got pissed off by Oliver's words. He stood up and paced to and fro, not knowing the exact words to use to make Oliver see reasons with him.

James said "Why do I have a feeling that you've fallen in love with this girl's pictures already?" "You are the one who will lose everything in the end, if you don't get on with the marriage plans."

James went on to tell him that he's actually doing the young woman a favour because she needs the money very desperately to cure her dying mother and solve every other problem she's facing.

Oliver pushed the glass of whiskey in front of him aside and stared through the floor to ceiling windows to see the beautiful darkening skies. He thought about what marriage meant, control, obligation, vulnerability. He hated all of it. But this wasn't about love or commitment. It was business. A transaction.

"Find her." Oliver said finally, his voice low and decisive.

James grinned. "Already did. She works part-time at a diner in Midtown. Want to go see her?"

"No," Oliver said, standing and straightening his jacket. "She's going to see me."

Charlotte's shift at the diner had just ended when she got the call. A man claiming to be a legal representative for a high-net-worth client had asked her to come in for a "business proposition." She almost laughed-thought it was a scam. But when he offered a car service and mentioned a compensation fee just for showing up, she couldn't say no.

She arrived at a tower and took her time to admire the beauty of the environment, the building. The receptionist, a young pretty lady, with blonde hair and fat thighs putting on a yellow long sleeve collar shirt tucked into a black trouser welcomed her.

They both exchanged pleasantries and she complimented the lady's beauty, they both smiled and the lady was grateful for her kindness.

"I'm Charlotte." "You can call me Charlie." She offered the receptionist a handshake. "I'm Mirabel, you can call me Mira." she replied as she took her handshake. The lady escorted her to the top floor as if she had been expecting her.

When the elevator doors opened, Charlotte stepped out into a suite that looked more like a luxury penthouse than an office. Every surface gleamed, every corner screamed wealth and taste.

And then she saw him.

Oliver Langston.

Her heart skipped a beat. She knew who he was. Everyone did. Billionaire. Business genius. The kind of man who only existed in glossy magazines and shareholder meetings.

"You're Charlotte Chesterfield," he said, not a question but a statement.

She nodded, confused. "Yes. And you're..."

"I know you need money." He didn't bother with pleasantries. "And I need a wife."

Her breath caught.

"I'm not looking for love. I don't care about your past, your dreams, or any romantic nonsense. What I need is a woman who'll wear a ring, attend a few public events, smile for the cameras, and stay out of my way. You do that, and I'll make you very rich."

She stared at him, stunned. "Is this a joke?"

"I don't joke," Oliver said coolly. "You'd get as much as a million dollars wired to your account the day we sign the marriage contract. Another million when the divorce is finalized, six months from now." He told her to think about the money and how it could change her life for good.

Charlotte took a step back. "Why me?" She asked in suspicion, not knowing why he had to choose her for a job with such a high pay.

"You're desperate. And I don't have time to play games." Oliver responded sharply as if he was expecting the question.

Her mouth opened to reply, but before she could speak, the door burst open. A woman stormed in uninvited, she is tall and fierce-looking.

"You can't do this, Oliver!" she snapped. "She's not who you think she is."

Charlotte turned to her, confused and alarmed.

Oliver's expression changed immediately. "What the hell are you doing here, Veronica?" He scolded looking furious as if she had come to expose something he'd been hiding.

Veronica's eyes locked with Charlotte's. "You need to hear the truth before you agree to anything."

Charlotte felt her heart pounding inside her chest. Just now that she's considering taking the deal, something ugly is coming up already.

"What truth?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Veronica's gaze sharpened. "About who really sent you that file... and why."

Charlotte's eyes widened in anticipation as she wanted to know what exactly she was about to walk into.