MARRIED FOR TIME

Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

_Valerie’s POV_

The heavy door of the penthouse suite clicked shut in my face, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the quiet hallway. I stood there for a long moment, my hand still tingling from the impact of slapping the man’s arrogant face. The sheer nerve of that man. To kidnap me from a rainstorm, drag me to his fortress, and then accuse me of being some cheap, opportunistic girl who targets rich men—all while his own chaotic past literally walked through his front door.

"Monster," I muttered to the empty corridor, wiping a stray, angry tear from my cheek.

I didn't wait around to hear how his drama with his childhood sweetheart unfolded. I practically sprinted down the private elevator, bypassed the staring doormen, and hailed a cab back to my own apartment. By the time I locked my front door behind me, the adrenaline was finally fading, leaving behind a hollow, exhausting ache.

My phone buzzed in my hand. I sighed, staring at the screen before dialing my assistant’s number.

"Valerie! Thank goodness," her voice poured through the speaker. "The morning meetings are piling up, and the creative team is waiting on your approval for the new layout—"

"Cancel them," I interrupted quietly, leaning my head back against the cool wood of my door. "Or handle them without me. I won't be coming into the office today, Elena. Clear my schedule and take charge of everything in my place."

There was a sharp pause on the other end of the line. "Clear everything? Valerie, you haven’t taken a sick day since I’ve known you. Are you... are you feeling okay?"

My stomach twisted. Elena didn't know. Nobody knew yet. The diagnosis, the sudden shadow hanging over my health—it was a secret I was fiercely guarding until I could figure out how to face it myself.

"I'm fine," I lied, forcing my voice to sound firm and professional. "Just a bit drained. I need a personal day. I’ll check my emails later."

Before she could press further, I hung up.

The silence of my apartment felt oppressive. Between the betrayal of two days ago, the diagnosis, and the nightmare of this morning, I felt entirely invisible. Desperate for any kind of distraction—anything to prove to myself that I was still alive and desirable—I opened my phone and downloaded a high-end, exclusive dating app.I didn’t use my real name. I went with *Vera*. And I uploaded some pictures that weren’t mine to the app, just to keep my real identity off it.

Within minutes, a notification popped up.

A message from a verified profile. I clicked on it, my breath catching slightly as I scrolled through his pictures. Tall, dark-haired, with a sharp jawline and an effortlessly sophisticated aura. He was exactly my spec. My absolute ideal type.

Opening the chat, I saw his opening line.

> *Lan:* _You look like someone who could use a drink and a distraction tonight._

> *Valerie:* _Is it that obvious? Or do you just say that to every girl you message?_

> *Lan:* _Only the ones who look like they’re carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. I’m Lan, by the way._

> *Valerie:* _Valerie. And you're not wrong, Lan. Today has been a complete disaster._

> *Lan:* _Then let me fix it. Let’s go out tonight to get to know each other more. No strings, just a proper escape from whatever ruined your day._

> *Valerie:* _Bold choice for a first conversation. Where are we going?_

> *Lan:* _It’s a surprise. Give me your address and my chauffeur will come pick you up around 8:00 PM. Just wear something nice._

A small smile finally broke through my gloomy mood. A mysterious, handsome guy wanting to sweep me away for a distraction was exactly what the doctor ordered.

> *Valerie:* _Alright, Lan. You have a deal._

I sent him my address, went offline, and tossed my phone onto the bed. I walked over to check my wardrobe, feeling a sudden surge of excitement.

Then, my smile vanished.

I stood staring at rows upon rows of sharp, tailored blazers, pencil skirts, and structured corporate dresses. I had thousands of outfits, but every single one of them was meant for the boardroom. I didn't have a single thing that screamed 'glamorous date night.'

Grabbing my car keys, I decided there was only one solution. I needed a new dress.

---

The upscale shopping mall was bustling, but I walked straight toward my favorite high-end boutique. I was sorting through a rack of silk cocktail dresses when a familiar, high-pitched laugh made my blood run cold.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is."

I turned slowly, my grip tightening on the hanger. Standing there was Chloe, flanked by two of her usual sycophantic friends. Chloe—the girl I had called my best friend for years, the same girl who had systematically ruined my life by sleeping with and stealing my boyfriend.

"Chloe," I said, my voice deadpan.

"You look a little lost, Vale," Chloe mocked, stepping closer and pointedly flashing a massive, glittering diamond ring on her left hand. "But I guess it makes sense. I’m actually here looking for my wedding dress. You’re invited, by the way. I want you to see just how happy we are."

Her friends giggled behind their hands. Chloe leaned in, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Your precious boyfriend is my husband-to-be now. Honestly, you never really suited him anyway. You were always too focused on yourself."

I knew exactly why she was saying it. She wanted to dismantle me. She wanted to see me beg, cry, or scream. A hot wave of tears pricked the backs of my eyes, threatening to spill over, but I forced my posture straight. I dared not show her a single ounce of weakness.

"Wow," a crisp, unfamiliar voice suddenly cut through the tension.

A gorgeous woman carrying a luxury shopping bag stepped out from the dressing room area, eyeing Chloe from head to toe with absolute disgust.

"I didn't know 'cheap' came with a diamond ring these days," the stranger said, crossing her arms. "Are you always this pathetic, or do you just save the mean-girl routine for public boutiques? Because honey, you are embarrassing yourself. And for the record, that ring doesn't make you look classy—it just looks like a participation trophy for a prize no one else wanted."

Chloe’s jaw dropped. Her face turned a violent shade of crimson. "Excuse me? You don't even know who we are!"

"I know a toxic cliché when I see one," the stranger shot back effortlessly, stepping right up next to me. "Now take your little entourage and leave before I call the manager and have you escorted out for harassing the clients."

Flustered, humiliated, and utterly stripped of her smugness, Chloe stomped her foot, grabbed her friends, and left the boutique in a hurry.

The heavy silence vanished, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I turned to the stranger, a genuine, watery smile breaking across my face. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"I can't stand bullies," she said with a warm laugh, extending a hand. "I'm Clara."

"Valerie," I replied, shaking her hand, the name feeling grounding in my mouth after the morning I’d had.

After a few more minutes of pleasant conversation, Clara wished me luck on my date, and I finally found the perfect dress a breathtaking, emerald green silk slip dress that hugged every curve perfectly.

---

By 6:00 PM, I was back home. I had hired a premium mobile makeup artist to glam me up, needing the extra boost of confidence. When she was finished, I stood in front of the full-length mirror, completely stunned. The makeup was flawless, emphasizing my gray eyes and sharp features, making me look drop-dead gorgeous and utterly unrecognizable from the disheveled girl who had fled a penthouse this morning.

At exactly 8:00 PM, a sleek, black luxury sedan pulled up to my building. The chauffeur stepped out, opened the door for me with a polite nod, and drove me across the city to an exclusive, dimly lit rooftop restaurant.

The hostess greeted me at the entrance. "Table for Valerie?" she asked smoothly. "Right this way. Your date is already waiting for you at table number seven."

My heart fluttered with a mix of nerves and excitement. I smoothed down the silk of my green dress, took a deep breath, and followed her through the candlelit tables toward the private terrace.

The hostess stopped, gesturing to a man sitting alone, his back partially turned to me as he swirled a glass of amber liquid.

I stepped forward, a polite smile on my lips. "Hi, I'm Valerie. And you must be…"

The man turned around.

The words died in my throat. The sophisticated, handsome stranger from the dating app... wasn't a stranger named Ian at all. Dark hair, a sharp jawline, and a pair of dark eyes that instantly widened in shock as they locked onto me.

My polite smile shattered into an immediate, furious scowl.

"What are …,you…. doing here?" I demanded, my voice dripping with pure disbelief.

He stared up at me, utterly speechless.