Terms Of Us

ISABELLA VANCE'S POV I hated desperate situations. Not because they frightened me, but because they had a rather unpleasant habit of forcing me into rooms with people I would ordinarily avoid. And today, that person was Damian Blackwood. At thirty-six, he was one of the wealthiest men in Aurelia. Chairman of Blackwood Global Corporation, ruthless businessman, and apparently, a man who considered punctuality an optional courtesy. I checked my watch. 10:12 a.m. My meeting had been scheduled for ten. "Unbelievable," I muttered. "Miss Vance?" I looked up. A woman in a grey suit stood beside the reception desk. "Mr Blackwood is ready to see you." Finally. I collected my handbag and followed her down the corridor. His office was everything I expected from a man with more money than most small countries. Floor-to-ceiling windows, expensive furniture and a breathtaking view of Aurelia. And behind an enormous mahogany desk sat the man himself. Damian Blackwood. He stood when I entered. "Miss Vance." "Mr Blackwood." His handshake was firm, his expression unreadable. He gestured towards the chair opposite his desk. "Please." I sat, placing my documents on the table. "Shall we begin?" He glanced at me. "Straight to business. I appreciate that." "Wonderful. Then perhaps we can recover the twelve minutes you've already taken from my morning." Something flickered in his eyes. Amusement? I wasn't sure. He opened the financial report. "I've reviewed your company's proposal." "And?" "Your projected returns are optimistic." "They're realistic." "Your company is carrying substantial debt." "Temporarily." "Your primary investor has withdrawn." "Unfortunately." He closed the folder. "Miss Vance, I don't invest in struggling businesses." I leaned forward. "Then perhaps you should invest in their potential." His gaze settled on mine. For a moment, neither of us spoke. I wasn't accustomed to defending my company to men who believed their bank accounts made them automatically intelligent. "Vance International Group has developed some of the most successful luxury properties in this city," I continued. "Aurelia Heights is an opportunity, not a liability. You know that. Otherwise, you wouldn't have agreed to this meeting." He studied me before looking down at the documents again. "You're quite confident." "I prefer the word competent." Silence. Then he leaned back. "Your family has considerable influence in Aurelia." My expression changed slightly. "My family isn't part of this negotiation." "Your father's political connections would be useful to my company's expansion." "If you wanted my father, you should have invited him." "I want you, Miss Vance." I raised an eyebrow. "That's an unfortunate way to phrase a business proposal." For the first time, his lips almost curved. Then he said something that made me question whether I had accidentally walked into the wrong office. "I believe we should get married." I blinked. Once. Twice. "I'm sorry?" "Marriage." I stared at him. Then laughed. Not a particularly graceful laugh, either. "Mr Blackwood, are you feeling alright?" "Perfectly." "Because I came here to discuss a business investment, not become somebody's wife." "Both arrangements can be discussed." I folded my arms. He explained that Blackwood Global needed the Vance family's established political and commercial connections to strengthen its expansion in Aurelia. My company, meanwhile, needed his financial resources and international influence. A marriage would unite those interests. It was absurd. Utterly, magnificently absurd. "You're suggesting we exchange wedding rings for business advantages?" "I'm suggesting a strategic alliance." "And what happens after the wedding? Do we schedule meetings over breakfast?" "If necessary." I stared at him. This man was unbelievable. "Let me make something clear, Mr Blackwood. I have spent five years building my company. I didn't come here to exchange my independence for a wealthy husband." "Nor am I looking for a wife who needs rescuing." His response was immediate. And annoyingly, I had no comeback. He checked his watch. "Consider the proposal." I stood, collecting my handbag. "I'll consider it when I recover from the shock." He looked up. "Miss Vance." I paused. "Yes?" "You're not what I expected." I offered him a polite smile. "Neither are you." And with that, I left. By the time I entered my car, my best friend had called three times. I answered. "Charlotte, I'm alive." "How did it go?" I closed my eyes. "He proposed." Silence. Then— "HE WHAT?" "Marriage." Charlotte burst into laughter. I pressed my fingers against my forehead. "I hate you." "Isabella, please tell me you're joking." "I wish I were." My phone vibrated. An unknown number. Miss Vance. I trust you arrived safely. I frowned. Another message followed. My proposal remains open. I stared at the screen. Then typed: Mr Blackwood, I don't marry men I've known for less than an hour. His reply came almost immediately. Then perhaps we should become acquainted. I locked my phone. "Unbelievable," I whispered. But before I could put it away, another call came through. My father. "Hello, Daddy." "Isabella, how did your meeting with Damian go?" I frowned. "Fine. Why?" A pause. "Did he discuss marriage with you?" My fingers tightened around the phone. "How do you know about that?" My father's sigh was quiet. "Come home this evening. Your mother and I need to discuss something with you." "Daddy, what's going on?" "Just come home, sweetheart." The call ended. I stared at my phone. Something was wrong. My father knew about the proposal before I had even told him. Which meant Damian Blackwood hadn't simply woken up that morning and decided he wanted a wife. There was something happening between our families. Something I hadn't been told. I looked out at the passing buildings, suddenly feeling as though the ground beneath my carefully constructed life had shifted. I had gone into that meeting hoping to save my company. I had walked out with a marriage proposal. And somehow, I suspected the proposal was the least complicated part of my problems. END OF CHAPTER ONE. 💜