Claimed At First Sight

CHAPTER 2: LET’S GET MARRIED

Reign's hand wrapped around her stomach as she stepped out of the car, straightening slowly to look up at Hotel del Crey. The glass and steel tower gleamed against the evening sky.

There, she had attended countless business dinners with her father, back when he was alive, learning how to read people, how to negotiate, and how to win.

God, I miss you, Dad.

But she wasn’t there to reminisce about what was lost. She was here to meet the man her mother had arranged for her.

She moved through the rotating doors with a calm aura, ignoring the stares. Of course, people were looking. Many might not recognize her as Sutton Technologies heiress, but she was walking into a five-star hotel in loose powder blue pants and a white baggy t-shirt, with no makeup, and her layered curly hair barely brushed.

She looked like she had just rolled out of bed. Which wasn't far from the truth. But if her date or her mother, or anyone else, had a problem with her appearance, they could f**k right off.

The elevator doors opened, and Reign stepped inside. However, just as the doors started to close, a hand shot out. Reign straightened as a man stepped in: middle-aged, balding, wearing an expensive suit that barely hid his belly.

She recognized him immediately. Mr. Dalton. One of her father's old associates.

"Fancy seeing you here, Miss Sutton," he said, grinning. "What floor?"

"Top floor," Reign said flatly.

"Ah, the top floor." He pressed the button. "Meeting the young man your mother arranged for you?"

Reign’s jaw ticked, but she didn't respond. Of course, everyone knows that. She stared at the mirrored wall, counting seconds until the ride was over.

"I must say,” Mr Dalton continued, oblivious or indifferent to her silence, “I was quite disappointed when I heard your mother was pursuing matches from the lesser elite," Mr. Dalton continued. "A Sutton princess marrying someone below her station.” He shook his head, making a tsk-tsk sound. “It's almost laughable. Certainly bad for the company's image. I'm sure you understand the implications better than your mother does."

The elevator climbed.

Just ignore him.

"But you know," his voice dropped, "I could help you with that."

Despite herself, Reign's eyes flicked to his reflection.

He smiled, clearly pleased to finally have her attention. "I worked with your father for fifteen years. I know Sutton Technologies inside and out. That's what you need, isn’t it? Someone who understands the company."

Eighth floor. Ninth floor.

'What do you say?’ He took a step closer, and she could smell his cologne, tobacco and something like…raw egg? “Forget this middle-class fellow. Consider me instead."

Reign scoffed; she couldn't help it. The sound escaped before she could stop it.

"Now, now. I know what you're thinking, the age difference.” He said, wriggling a finger. “But age is just a number. I might look a little bit old, but…" He puffed out his chest. "My body is a machine when it comes to pleasing a woman."

Bile rose in Reign's throat.

"I know young blood like you are very active and starving when it comes to certain activities..." His grin widened, apparently oblivious to the disgust on her face. "But you wouldn't have to worry about that aspect with me. I can more than satisfy…." His fingers traced down her spine and landed on her ass.

Reign froze.

It wasn't a brush. It wasn't even an accident. It was a deliberate grab. Like fingers squeezing, palm pressing her closer, she felt his erection against her hip.

For one second, Reign's mind went blank. Then rage exploded.

She whirled and slapped him. The c***k echoed, and Mr Dalton stumbled back, hand flying to his face.

"You little…"

"Age might not matter," Reign said, voice steady and cold, "but I can never be with a man who gropes a woman young enough to be his daughter without permission." She stepped forward. "So here's my advice: Learn to keep your dirty wrinkled hands to yourself."

His face flushed dark red. "You'll regret this, you ungrateful b***h…"

The elevator dinged, the doors slid open, and Reign stepped out without looking back.

"I'll ruin you!" Mr Dalton shouted. "You're nothing! Nothing without a man to…"

The doors closed, cutting him off.

Reign stood in the hallway, breathing hard. Her hand stung, but her surgical site throbbed more from the exertion.

How many times? She thought. How many times have I had to deal with men like him?

The answer was too many. Far too many.

It started after her father's death. Suddenly, men she had known her entire life, business partners, family friends, had started looking at her differently, making suggestions, and Miranda had done nothing to stop it. If anything, she had encouraged it. But there had been one person who had protected her.

Asher.

Whenever Reign told Faeth about an incident, Faeth would complain to her uncle, even though Reign had told him in secret. And Asher would handle it. Quietly, and efficiently. Men who had touched Reign suddenly found their careers derailed by "unfortunate coincidences."

Reign had thought it was love.

Now she didn’t know what the hell it had been.

She blinked back tears.

Focus. You came here for a reason.

The hallway was quiet, lined with doors to private suites and meeting rooms. She walked slowly, checking room numbers.

1008.

She stopped at the door, then, without waiting, she pushed it open, only to freeze.

Someone was already inside.

She hadn't expected to find anyone there yet. She had come early specifically to calm her mind, and maybe run if she had a change of heart.

The man inside was tall, maybe six-two, and stood with his back to her, phone pressed to his ear. He turned at the sound of the door, his eyes narrowing slightly when they fell on her.

Reign's first instinct was to apologize for interrupting, but she swallowed it. Instead, she crossed the room where an open laptop, a bottle of half-drunk water, and an expensive crystal glass with iced water sat on the coffee table. She lowered herself carefully, biting back a wince.

The man said something quietly into the phone. And the next, he was sitting across from her.

And well, Reign... stared. Completely stunned.

Because he was nothing like what she had expected.

First, he was young. Mid-twenties, maybe early thirties at most. And this man was beautiful. Not in some soft Korean idol way, but in a Greek god sort of way, all sharp angles and dangerous beauty. He had lean muscle that strained beneath his rolled-up white shirt, muscles lining his arms as if about to rip through his brown, soft, lightly hair-dusted skin. Sharp jaw and chiselled nose.

But it was his eyes that made Reign's heart freeze, then race rapidly.

Blue. Icy, oceanic blue that pinned her in place.

How had her mother managed to bag a man so effortlessly beautiful and sophisticated?

Then again, she blinked, people do desperate things.

Her mother had said “manageable,” which meant he wasn’t top elite. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had gone into debt for that suit. Because someone from the lesser elite, though still rich, was below the top tier and couldn’t possibly afford a bespoke tailored suit like the one he was wearing, not to mention handmade Italian leather shoes.

How pretentious.

But... Why did he look familiar?

She could swear she had seen him somewhere before. But then, people in her world all looked familiar. You could see someone on the internet one day, then meet them at a spa the next. It was that easy. The only people who are hard to see are the Apex/Top Elite.

The man raised an eyebrow, and Reign realized she had been staring.

Heat crept up her neck. "I'm sorry. I'm Reign. Reign Sutton."

He didn't respond. He just... waited, watching her with those beautiful, unreadable blue eyes.

Rude much, aren’t we?

Reign straightened, ignoring the pull in her side. "I'm sure you know what this is about. So let's not waste time."

Still nothing. His expression remained unreadable.

Fine. If he wanted direct, she would give him direct.

"If you find me agreeable, I'd like to propose marriage."

That got a reaction.

The man went very still. The only reaction he showed was a raised brow.

"Marriage?" The word came out slow and careful, like he was tasting it. “That's quite a proposal for a first meeting."

"I know how it sounds." Reign forced herself to hold his gaze. "But since both families are forming an alliance, a marriage shouldn’t be surprising. I’m proposing a one-year contract, marriage on paper only."

The silence stretched. He didn't move. Didn't even blink.

Was he shocked? Offended? She couldn't tell.

"I wouldn't interfere with your life," she continued, her words coming faster now, but firm with confidence. "If you wish to see other people, that would be fine. Though I won't take responsibility for any illegitimate children."

God, she sounded ridiculous.

"We would keep finances completely separate," she added quickly. "No entanglement. We could put everything in writing, make it official and legal. One year, then we go our separate ways. No strings attached."

She was rambling. She knew that, but he just kept staring at her with those ice-blue eyes, and she just couldn't stop.

The idea had sounded solid and sensible when she had thought it through earlier. She didn't want to spend her life tied to someone she didn't love, all for money. But circumstances had forced her hand. A contract marriage, one year and done, seemed like the best compromise. But now that the words were out in the open, she felt stupid.

And the way he was staring at her and saying nothing? It made her feel uneasy.

Her hands curled into fists around her bag strap. But she raised her chin regardless, "What do you think?"

He didn't say a word. He just studied her. His gaze travelled over her face, lingering on the circles under her eyes and the tension in her stiff shoulders.

She was terrified, he thought to himself in amusement.

He could see it in the way her hand gripped her bag, the way her breathing had gone light, the way she leaned slightly to her side like she was trying to hide that she was in pain. And yet she'd still walked in here and proposed marriage to a stranger.

Brave little thing. He smirked.

However, to Reign, she felt dissected. She assumed he was judging her look, and that made her blood boil under her skin.

But finally, he leaned back in his chair, and a slow smile spread across his face.

"Alright."

Reign blinked. "I’m sorry, what?"

"Alright." He repeated as he glanced at his sleek, and clearly expensive, watch. "It's six-fifteen. I know someone at the registry office. We can handle it tonight."

Her mouth fell open.

"You're... you're serious?"

"You proposed marriage." Something that seemed like amusement flickered in his eyes. "And I'm accepting."

"I…Just like that?"

"Just like that." He stood, his movements unhurried and controlled. "Unless you've had a change of heart?"

Reign stared up at him, her mind spinning.

This was insane. She can't really tell what she expected, but she had expected questions, negotiation, or maybe outright rejection. Not... immediate agreement.

But what choice did she have? It was afterall her plan.

She stood carefully, ignoring the ache in her side and the pounding of her heart. "No. No change of heart."

"Good." He gestured toward the door. "Then we should go. The registry office won't stay open forever."

Reign grabbed her bag with trembling hands.

She was really doing this.

She was about to marry a stranger she didn't know anything about, except that her mother had arranged this meeting, and he was far too beautiful to be manageable.

Holy s**t.