Chapter 1 - The Proposal That Wasn’t a Choice
1072 Words
Maya Brooks had encountered several hurdles throughout her life, including being raised in a foster home, trying as diligently as everyone else to develop herself, and surviving in a vicious business environment that relied on power plays. But absolutely nothing had gotten her ready for this.
Not for the marriage contract in front of her.
Not for the man seated across from her, who observed her reaction like a predator does its prey.
Her breathing was short, and her heartbeat was a furious thud on her ribcage as she reviewed the document.
Marriage Agreement.
The bolded title alone made her stomach twist.
Maya curled her fingers around the hefty stack of papers. "Tell me this is a joke."
Alexander Knight, the CEO, billionaire, and most aggravating guy she had ever encountered, did not even flinch. “I don’t joke.”
Her jaw tightened. Of course he didn’t.
Her gaze snapped up to meet his—those gray eyes sharp as steel, calm as ever. No amusement. No hesitation.
Dead serious.
Maya let out a bitter laugh. "You've lost your freaking mind."
He exhaled, relaxing in the seat, his fingertips softly tapping on the gleaming surface of his workstation. “You’ll marry me.”
The cheerful way he mentioned it, as if it were just another business arrangement, angered her.
She sprang up from her seat, her legs shrieking on the marble floor. "Absolutely not."
His gaze remained steady. “I wasn’t asking.”
Maya’s hands trembled, but she kept her voice even. “Then what the hell do you call this?”
“A necessity.”
She let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. “No. A necessity is oxygen. A necessity is coffee before work. This? This is insanity.”
Alexander finally moved, standing to his full height. His presence alone was enough to suffocate the space between them.
“I need a wife,” he stated simply.
Maya folded her arms. “Then go find one. I’m sure you have an entire waiting list of women who would kill to wear your last name.”
His lips twitched, not quite a smirk. “I don’t want just any wife. I want you.”
Her stomach flipped.
No.
No, she didn't plan to check it out.
She rolled her arms across her chest and braced her legs squarely on the ground. "And what do I gain out of this 'setup'?"
His gaze darkened. “Protection.”
Her pulse skidded.
Maya laughed, the sound hollow, forced. “Protection? From what, exactly?”
Alexander was silent for a long moment. Too long.
Then—his voice lowered, the words pressing into the air between them like a warning.
“From people who don’t want you alive.”
Her breath caught.
The room tilted slightly.
Maya's chest clenched, but she pushed herself to maintain her position. This was a game. It had to be.
“You expect me to believe that?” she demanded.
Alexander’s expression didn’t waver. “I expect you to trust me.”
She laughed again, this time sharper, laced with something dangerously close to anger. “Trust you? The man who just tried to trap me into marriage?”
His eyes never wavered. "I've never provided you a reason to be skeptical of me before."
Her lips parted, but she had no argument for that.
Because… he was right.
Alexander Knight was ruthless, calculating, and cold-blooded in business, but he had never once lied to her.
Never once broken his word.
That thought unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
She exhaled shakily. “And if I say no?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“Then you walk away from Knight Enterprises permanently.”
Her breath hitched.
The floor under her feet seemed shaky.
"You're really doing this," she muttered, stunned.
Alexander’s silence was answer enough.
Maya stepped back and tilted her head. "You're blackmailing me."
He moaned, rubbing a hand over his hair. The first real sign of frustration. “I’m giving you an opportunity.”
She let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “To do what? Be your trophy wife?”
His eyes flashed. “To be more than just a pawn.”
Her breath caught.
His voice lowered, smooth, dangerous. “You’re already in this, Maya. You just don’t know it yet.”
She hated the way her pulse quickened.
Hated the way his gaze burned through her, steady, unwavering.
Alexander took a cautious, purposeful stride toward her, narrowing the distance between them.
The aroma of his cologne—**deep, manly, and intoxicating—**curled about her, clouding her mind.
He stepped closer, his tone just above a low murmur.
"I don't want a docile wife."
Her throat went dry.
“I want you.”
Maya froze.
His hand raised, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her chin.
The touch was soft, almost imperceptible—but it sent thrills down her spine.
She should have stepped back.
Should have shoved him away.
But her feet remained glued to the floor.
“You want to say no,” he murmured. “But tell me, Maya… if this was just business, why are you shaking?”
Her breath hitched.
She shoved him back, anger flickering in her chest. “I hate you.”
Alexander smirked. “Good.”
Before she was able to think or resist herself, her fingers clenched around the contract, tearing it in half.
The paper bits dropped to the floor and scattered.
His gray eyes flickered.
Amusement.
Satisfaction.
Desire.
Maya hated it.
Hated him.
But hated herself more for the way her heart pounded violently inside her chest.
“You’ll sign it,” he said simply.
Maya lifted her chin. “Over my dead body.”
Alexander’s lips twitched. “That can be arranged.”
Her stomach flipped.
Before she could respond, the office doors burst open.
One of Alexander’s men stood there, his face unreadable, tense.
“Sir,” he said. “We have a problem.”
Alexander didn’t break eye contact with her.
His entire body tensed. “What kind of problem?”
The guard hesitated. “It’s about her.”
Maya’s breath hitched.
Alexander’s gaze darkened.
And in a voice that sent a shiver down her spine—
“Find out who sent the threat.”
The air thickened.
Her heart stalled.
And just like that, Maya knew—
This wasn’t just about marriage.
This was about survival.
- Writer
