Chapter Eight
805 Words
Chapter 8: A Proposal Without Love
The café was quieter than usual.
The afternoon crowd had already dispersed, leaving only a handful of customers scattered across the room.
Clara wiped the last table near the window before removing her apron.
"Miss Bennett?"
She turned.
A man in a dark suit stood near the entrance.
It took her a moment to recognize him.
Ethan.
Adrian's assistant.
He gave a polite nod.
"Mr. Kingsley would like to speak with you."
Clara frowned.
"I don't think we have anything to discuss."
"He asked me to tell you it concerns your mother."
The smile disappeared from Clara's face.
"...Where is he?"
---
Ten minutes later...
Clara stepped into a quiet private lounge in a nearby hotel.
Adrian was already there.
He sat calmly with a cup of untouched coffee, his posture as composed as ever.
When Clara entered, he looked up briefly.
"Sit."
She remained standing.
"I don't have much time."
"Then I'll be direct."
He slid a document across the table.
Clara looked at it but didn't touch it.
"What is this?"
"A summary of your current situation."
Her brows knitted together.
She picked it up.
The first page contained her name.
The second listed her mother's hospital bills.
The remaining pages contained details of the payments she had managed to make over the past few weeks.
By the time she reached the last page, her hands were trembling.
She slowly looked up.
"You investigated me?"
"Yes."
"You had no right."
"I know."
"No, you don't."
Her voice rose despite herself.
"You don't get to walk into someone's life and dig through it like you're reading a newspaper!"
She pushed the file back across the table.
"I should never have come here."
She turned toward the door.
"Sit down."
His voice was calm.
Not loud.
Not threatening.
Just firm.
Clara didn't stop.
"I'm leaving."
Before she reached the handle, Adrian spoke again.
"Walk away if you want."
She froze.
"But remember..."
He paused.
"...your mother is still lying in that hospital."
Those words struck harder than she expected.
Her hand remained on the door.
Slowly...
She let it fall to her side.
Without looking at him, she asked quietly,
"What do you want?"
Adrian waited until she turned back before answering.
"I have a proposal."
Clara laughed bitterly.
"Of course you do."
"It isn't charity."
"I don't want your charity."
"Good."
"Because I'm not offering any."
Silence settled between them.
He folded his hands on the table.
"My grandmother doesn't have much time."
Clara looked at him, confused.
"What?"
"Her condition is getting worse."
"The doctors believe she should avoid emotional stress."
He continued in the same measured tone.
"There's one thing she wants more than anything."
"A family."
"A reason to believe I'll have someone beside me when she's gone."
Clara still didn't understand.
"So?"
"So I intend to give her that peace."
She frowned.
"How?"
He met her eyes directly.
"By asking you to help me."
The room fell silent.
"I don't mean friendship."
"I don't mean romance."
"I mean a contract."
Clara stared at him.
"I don't understand."
"For one year..."
"We'll pretend we're in a relationship."
"You'll accompany me when necessary."
"You'll spend time with my grandmother."
"She'll believe I've finally found someone."
"When the year ends..."
"The agreement ends."
"We walk away."
"You return to your life."
"I return to mine."
"As if we'd never met."
Clara blinked several times.
Then she laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it sounded unbelievable.
"You expect me to agree to that?"
"I expect you to think about it."
"And why would I?"
Adrian reached into his briefcase and placed another document on the table.
It was a payment guarantee.
"I'll cover every medical expense related to your mother's treatment."
Clara's breathing caught.
He continued before she could speak.
"Hospital bills."
"Surgery."
"Medication."
"Rehabilitation."
"Everything."
She looked from the document to Adrian.
"You'd spend all that money..."
"...for a lie?"
"For an agreement."
He corrected her without emotion.
"It benefits both of us."
"You need money."
"My grandmother needs peace of mind."
"This is a business arrangement."
"Nothing more."
Clara searched his face for the slightest hint of mockery.
There was none.
He wasn't joking.
He wasn't flirting.
He wasn't trying to impress her.
He was negotiating.
As though he were discussing a contract with another company instead of asking a stranger to change her life.
Adrian stood.
"I don't need your answer today."
He buttoned his suit jacket.
"Take the evening."
"Think carefully."
Then he added one final sentence.
"If you refuse..."
"I'll respect your decision."
"But time isn't on your mother's side."
Those words lingered long after he walked away.
Clara remained seated, staring at the papers in front of her.
She had always believed some choices are impossible, now she wasn't so sure.
- Writer
