Chapter six: The proposal
1044 Words
Alexander Knight’s POV
I’d faced boardroom battles that made men twice my age sweat. Negotiations worth billions. Scandals that could’ve buried the Knight name for good.
But absolutely nothing felt as dangerous as what I was about to do tonight.
The file sat on my desk like a loaded gun, the contract I’d rewritten three times. Simple terms. One year. Marriage in name only. Payment of two million dollars upon completion.
Clean. Legal. Cold.
Except it wasn’t. Not anymore.
Because it wasn’t just about saving my father’s company, it was about her.
Ariana Brooks.
I ran a hand through my hair and checked the clock. 7:45 p.m. Most of the staff had gone home hours ago. Except her. I knew she was still here. She always stayed late, too proud to give anyone reason to doubt she belonged.
Maybe that's why I was drawn to her. She never whined for sympathy. Never screamed victim. She faced her world head-on, even when it broke her.
I hit the intercom. “Ethan, is she still in the marketing department?”
His voice crackled back, lazy and amused. “You mean Miss Brooks? Yep. Just left. Looks exhausted. You’re not gonna…”
“Send her to my office.”
A pause. Then, “This’ll be fun.”
I ignored his tone and straightened the documents. My chest tightened as footsteps approached. Then came the soft knock I’d been waiting for.
“Come in.”
Ariana came in, hair loose after a long day, strands framing her face. Gray of blouse catching city light, she seemed softer, almost fragile but I had known her better.
"Mr. Knight," she stated, her voice guarded. "You wanted to talk to me?"
"Yes. Sit down."
She hesitated, her brows furrowing slightly. "Is there a problem with my work?"
No. I forced myself to keep a level tone. "Actually, this is. personal."
Her expression changed in a flash. "If this has something to do with the thing that happened in the café"
"It doesn't." I gestured to the chair again. "Please."
She sat after a pause. Her entire body was tense, waiting for the punch. I didn't fault her. I'd humiliated her once. Now I was about to ask her to do something insane.
I rested my elbows on the desk, leaning forward. "Ariana, I must offer you something."
She blinked. "An offer?"
"Yes. A contract." I slid the folder across the desk to her.
Her eyes dropped to the papers but did not open. "What kind of contract?"
"The kind that's going to change everything," I said, softly.
She looked up, confusion giving way to incredulity. "You're joking."
"I'm not,"
"What is this, then?
Her mouth fell open, then closed. "You can't be serious."
"I am." My tone was flat, despite the fact that my heart was racing. "It's… complicated, but I have to be married in order to maintain ownership of Knight Corporation. My father's will specified it as a condition. And time is of the essence."
She stared at me as if she was waiting for a joke that never came. "And you're asking me to… marry you?"
"Yes." I paused. "For one year."
She laughed, quietly, unbelieving. "I got fired from my previous job because of you, humiliated me in front of everyone, and now you want me to marry you? You've got to be out of your mind."
"Maybe I am," I confessed. "But I believe in you more than anyone else right now."
Her eyes opened wide, and I could see the struggle behind them, the desire to go away in conflict with the attraction she could not resist. "Why me? You could have anyone."
"Anyone would have motives," I said. "You don't. You're honest. You're not looking for my money. That's exactly why I want you."
She crossed her arms, looking at me. "So you figure I'm the type of woman who's going to marry a billionaire for a check?"
"No," I breathed. "I figure you're the type of woman who won't unless she doesn't have any other choice."
Her lips parted. I knew I'd hit too near the mark.
Her mother. The hospital bills. The weight she bore herself.
She swallowed. "You did your research.".
I had to," I said flatly. "This isn't about me, Ariana. It's a good deal for both of us. You get the money for your mother's therapy. I get to stay in control of the company."
"And in one year?" she whispered.
"We divorce," I said. "Amicably. You get the money. Clean break.".
She gazed at the folder, her fingertips tracing along the rim of paper but not opening it. "You make it sound so. businesslike."
"It is."
"And love?" she cut in abruptly, her tone sharp. "Don't you ever find that comes into consideration?"
Something inside me twisted. "Love is complicated. Destructive. It blurs the head. I have no room for it."
Her eyes moved over mine, and I saw the glimmer of sadness there, a mirror of something I didn't want to look at in myself.
"So that's it," she said finally, rocking back in her chair. "A convenient marriage."
"Call it survival."
"And what happens if I say no?"
"Then I'll seek another solution," I replied quietly. "But I hope you won't.".
The quiet stood between us. Outside, city lights sparkled in the distance like stars. Inside, every second a suspended breath.
Finally, she got up. "I'll consider it."
I nodded once. "That's all I'm asking."
She turned to leave but paused at the door. "You know," she said quietly, without turning back, "you believe you can buy control, but some things don't work that way."
Her words lingered in the air long after she'd gone.
For the first time in years, I didn't feel like the man of the room.
I sat back in my chair, staring at the folder she'd left sitting unopened on my desk. Her perfume still lingered in the air, something floral and light and impossible to miss.
Ethan's words replayed over and over in my head: You don't know what you want, Alex.
Perhaps he was correct.
Because what I wanted now wasn't the agreement, the inheritance, or the empire.
It was her.
And that scared me more than anything else.
- Writer
