MARRIED FOR TIME

Chapter 1

*Valerie’s pov*

The air in the boardroom was always too cold, but today it felt entirely frozen. I was in the middle of presenting our Q3 financial projections for *GLK Logistics*, the global supply chain empire my parents left behind when their private plane went down twelve years ago. I was only thirteen then. While other teenagers were going on awkward double dates or sneaking into cinemas, I was being groomed by a board of directors to run a multi-billion-dollar enterprise.

At twenty-five, I had successfully turned GLK into a tech-driven powerhouse. But as I pointed to the glowing digital chart on the wall, the numbers began to swim. A sharp, blinding pressure bloomed behind my eyes.

"Miss Vale?" my assistant’s voice sounded miles away. "Are you alright?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but the room tilted violently. The last thing I felt was the mahogany table rushing up to meet me.

---

When I woke up, the sterile smell of bleach and the rhythmic ticking of a heart monitor told me everything I needed to know. I was in a hospital bed. Sitting beside me wasn’t my boyfriend, but Dr. Evans, our family physician, looking grimmer than I had ever seen him.

"Valerie," he said softly, putting a hand over mine. "The scans came back. I’m so sorry. It’s *Advanced Astroblastoma*—a rare and aggressive brain tumor. It’s already progressed too far for surgery."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "What are you saying, Evans? Give it to me straight. How long?"

He hesitated, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "With targeted treatment, maybe two years. If we’re lucky."

Two years. Twenty-four months. I had spent my entire youth sacrificing my life for a corporation, putting off everything normal people did. I had never gone to a music festival. I had never taken a vacation that didn’t involve a business merger. But as the initial panic faded into a numb ache, one clear thought crystallized in my mind: _I wanted to get married._ I had been dating Tyler for three years. He was my rock, the one constant in my chaotic, work-obsessed world. Getting married was the final, biggest item on the makeshift bucket list I had just created in my head. I wanted to experience being a wife, even if it was only for a little while.

I didn’t call him. I discharged myself against medical advice, ordered a car, and drove straight to his house. I wanted to surprise him. I wanted to tell him that I was finally ready to set a wedding date.

---

The security guard at Tyler’s building knew me, so he let me up without a word. I used my spare key to open his front door, my heart fluttering with a mix of tragic sorrow and nervous excitement.

"Tyler?" I called out, stepping into the foyer.

The apartment was quiet, but as I walked down the hallway toward the master bedroom, I heard muffled noises. A breathless laugh. A low groan.

My breath hitched. That laugh didn’t belong to Tyler. It belonged to Chloe, my best friend since college, the girl I had confided in, the one I trusted with my deepest secrets.

I pushed the bedroom door open.

The world shattered. There they were, entangled in the sheets of the bed I had bought him.

They scrambled apart, panic instantly replacing the passion on their faces. "Valerie!" Tyler gasped, pulling the blanket up. "What—what are you doing here?"

Chloe looked terrified, flushing crimson as she reached for her clothes. "Vale, wait, it’s not what it looks like—"

"Save it," I whispered. The betrayal was a physical blow, knocking the wind right out of my lungs. The two people who were supposed to love me most in the world had just ripped my heart out on the exact same day I found out I was dying. "Three years, Tyler. And you, Chloe? How could you?"

Tyler’s panicked expression suddenly hardened into something defensive and ugly. "How could I? Valerie, look at yourself! You’re never here! Every time I brought up marriage, every time I asked you to just take a weekend off for us, you said you weren’t ready. You said the company came first. You practically forced me into someone else’s arms!"

"I caused this?" I let out a sharp, breathless laugh as tears blurred my vision. I wiped my cheeks with shaky hands.

I knew I was at fault. I had ignored him when he needed me most. The night he proposed, I was late. The nights he wanted to be close, I refused because I had to work in the morning. The night he… Tears streamed down my face.

"I made you who you are, Tyler. I gave you almost everything. I tried my best to make sure you were working at a good company, even if I wasn’t the perfect girlfriend."

"You’re selfish, Vale! Chloe has always been there for me. She checked on me the nights you ignored me when I was sick. She was there."

"Goodbye, Tyler."

I turned on my heel and walked out, slamming the door on his excuses.

---

An hour later, I was sitting at the dimly lit bar of the Onyx Lounge, an exclusive, upscale establishment downtown. I didn’t care about my reputation. I didn’t care about the paparazzi. I just wanted the burning in my chest to stop.

"Another neat scotch," I told the bartender, my voice slurring slightly. I lost count of how many glasses I had downed. The alcohol was a warm, numbing wave, blurring the edges of Tyler’s harsh words and Dr. Evans’s death sentence. An hour later, the world was a blurry, spinning mess. I had stumbled out of a nearby lounge, completely intoxicated, the burning in my chest refusing to fade. All I wanted was to go home and disappear.

Rain had started to fall, slicking the pavement. Through my blurred vision, I spotted a sleek, black luxury sedan idling by the curb. My car, my sluggish brain insisted. The driver is finally here.

I lunged forward, grabbed the rear door handle, and pulled it open. I practically tumbled into the back seat, the rich scent of leather and expensive cologne washing over me. I slammed the door shut, leaned my head back against the headrest, and closed my eyes.

"Just drive," I mumbled, waving a hand dismissively. "Take me home."

Silence stretched for a long moment. Then, a deep, velvety voice resonated from the front seat.

"As much as I appreciate the enthusiasm, love, you’ve entered the wrong car."

I opened my eyes, blinking heavily. Up front, a man was looking back at me. Even through the darkness and my fog, I could tell he looked like he belonged in a high-fashion magazine. He had a sharp, striking jawline shadowed with a hint of stubble, and a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that screamed old money. But it was his eyes—piercing, intelligent silver-gray—that caught my attention.

"No, I didn’t," I argued, my voice slurring as I gripped the leather seat. "This is my car. I ordered it. Move it, driver."

The man chuckled, a low, mesmerizing sound. He turned around completely, resting his arm on the back of his seat to look at me. An amused, enigmatic smile played on his lips.

"I assure you, it isn’t," he said softly. "And I am definitely not your driver, drunk woman."

My temper flared through the haze. I leaned forward, getting right into his space, pointing a shaky finger at him. "Who is drunk? Drive now, or I’m not going to pay your money!"

"My money?" He raised an eyebrow, his silver eyes flashing with dark amusement at my defiance. "You couldn’t afford me, sweetheart. And trust me, I don’t take fares."

"I have plenty of money!" I snapped back, crossing my arms and sinking into the leather. "I’m not getting out. Just drive."

He stared at me for a long moment, scanning my face, clearly trying to figure out who I was and how I had wound up wrecking his quiet evening. There was an undeniable, powerful aura of wealth and authority radiating off him, but right now, he just looked highly entertained by the argument.

That amusement vanished when he realized I wasn’t budging. With a heavy sigh, he turned off the engine, stepped out of the car, and opened the rear door. He reached in, grabbing my arm firmly to drag me out into the rain. "Alright, playtime is over. Out you go."

"Let go of me!" I shrieked, pulling my arm back and kicking my legs wildly to stay anchored to the leather seat. I glared up at him, my intoxicated brain twisting the situation entirely. "You’re a scammer! That’s what you are! A total scammer!"

He froze, his silver eyes widening in sheer disbelief. "I’m a what?"

"A scammer!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, pointing a trembling finger at his chest. "I paid you! I paid you to drive me to my destination, and now you’re refusing to do your job! You’re trying to kick me out in the rain and steal my money!"

"Are you out of your mind?" he snapped back, though a hint of dark humor danced in his voice again. "First of all, you didn’t pay me a single cent. Second of all, for the last time, this is not your car."

"Liarrr!" I slurred, crossing my arms stubbornly and sinking so deep into the seat that he would have to physically wrestle me out. "I’m not leaving."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking up at the night sky as the rain drenched his expensive suit. He was trapped. He couldn’t just dump a completely vulnerable, wealthy-looking woman onto the wet pavement, but he couldn’t keep arguing with a drunk person either. Realizing he had no choice, he let out a defeated groan.

"Fine," he muttered, stepping back and slamming the door. He got back into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and looked at me through the rearview mirror. "I’ll take you home first. Just give me your address. Where are you staying?"

I blinked heavily, propping my chin up with my hand. "I live at..."

Before the rest of the sentence could leave my mouth, the exhaustion, the heartbreak, and the sheer volume of alcohol crashed over me like a tidal wave. My eyes rolled back, my head dropped heavily against the headrest, and I completely passed out, a loud, soft snore echoing through the silent, luxury car.