HIS CONTRACT WIFE,HIS GREATEST REGRET

CHAPTER FOUR

Amelia stood in the reception area of Blackwell Global Group, trying to hide her nervousness.

The building was enormous, with shiny floors, glass walls, and people dressed in expensive clothes moving from one office to another. Everyone seemed to know where they were going, unlike Amelia, who was beginning to wonder whether coming here had been a mistake.

She adjusted the strap of her handbag and approached the receptionist.

"Good morning. I'm here to see Mr. Alexander Blackwell."

The receptionist looked up from her computer.

"Your name, please?"

"Amelia Rosewood."

The moment she mentioned her name, the receptionist checked something on her screen.

"Mr. Blackwell is expecting you. Please take the elevator to the twenty-fifth floor. His assistant will meet you there."

"Thank you."

Amelia walked towards the elevator, her heart beating faster with every step.

She had promised herself that she would not allow Alexander to intimidate her. Still, she could not deny that the thought of facing him again made her uncomfortable.

When the elevator doors opened, a young man in a black suit approached her.

"Miss Rosewood?"

"Yes."

"I'm Daniel Hayes, Mr. Blackwell's personal assistant. Please follow me."

Amelia followed him down a quiet corridor until they reached a large wooden door.

Daniel knocked twice.

"Come in," a deep voice answered.

He opened the door and stepped aside.

"Mr. Blackwell is waiting for you."

Amelia entered the office.

Alexander sat behind a large desk, wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. His eyes were fixed on a document, and he did not immediately acknowledge her presence.

Amelia stood there for a moment before clearing her throat.

"Good morning, Mr. Blackwell."

He finally looked up.

"Miss Rosewood. You're on time."

"I try to be."

"Have a seat."

She sat opposite him, placing her handbag on her lap.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Amelia glanced around the office. Everything looked expensive, from the furniture to the paintings on the walls. The room reflected the man sitting behind the desk: powerful, controlled, and completely unapproachable.

She wondered whether he ever smiled.

Probably not, she thought.

"You asked to see me," she reminded him. "May I know why?"

Alexander closed the document in front of him.

"Straight to the point. I like that."

"I didn't come here to discuss my personality."

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

For some reason, he found her response amusing, although he made no effort to show it.

"Very well. Let's talk about your father."

Amelia's expression changed.

"My father?"

"Thomas Rosewood."

"What about him?"

"I have reason to believe he was connected to my family's business many years ago."

Amelia frowned.

"My father worked hard to take care of his family. He never told me anything about your family or your company."

"That doesn't mean he had no connection to us."

"Then perhaps you should investigate the people who worked with him instead of calling me here."

Alexander leaned back in his chair.

"I intend to do that. But I also want to know whether he ever mentioned the Blackwell family to you."

"No, he didn't."

"Did he leave any documents, letters, or personal belongings that might explain his connection to my father?"

Amelia stared at him.

"Why are you asking me all these questions?"

"Because I believe your father knew something important."

"Something important about what?"

Alexander was silent for a moment.

"Something my family has spent years trying to understand."

Amelia felt a chill run down her spine.

She remembered the way he had spoken during their first meeting and how determined he seemed to uncover information about her father.

"Are you suggesting that my father was involved in something illegal?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm looking for answers."

"Well, I don't have them."

She stood up, frustrated.

"My father is dead, Mr. Blackwell. My mother is injured, and I'm trying to keep our lives together. I don't have time to participate in some mysterious investigation about something that happened twenty years ago."

Alexander watched her carefully.

He had expected her to become defensive, but he had not expected the pain in her voice.

For the first time, he realised that his questions were forcing her to revisit a loss she was still struggling to accept.

He remained silent for a moment before speaking.

"I understand that this is difficult for you."

Amelia gave him a disbelieving look.

"Do you? Because you certainly don't act like it."

Alexander's jaw tightened, but he did not respond angrily.

Instead, he reached for a folder beside his computer.

"There's another reason I asked you to come here."

Amelia slowly sat down again.

"What reason?"

He placed the folder on the desk between them.

"I have a proposal."

She glanced at the folder but did not touch it.

"What kind of proposal?"

"One that could solve some of your current problems."

Amelia's eyes narrowed.

"What do you know about my problems?"

"I know that you left Westbridge University before completing your degree. I know your father died six months ago, and I know your mother requires surgery."

Her face went pale.

"You investigated me."

"Yes."

"You had no right!"

"I needed to understand your circumstances."

"My circumstances are none of your business!"

Alexander stood up.

"And yet, you came here because you wanted to hear what I had to say."

Amelia opened her mouth, then closed it again.

She hated that he was right.

She had come because she needed answers, and because a small part of her hoped he might offer her a job.

She never imagined that he would investigate her family.

"Listen carefully, Miss Rosewood," Alexander said. "I have a business problem, and I believe you may be able to help me solve it."

"What does that have to do with my mother's surgery?"

"Everything."

He opened the folder and turned it towards her.

Inside were several documents containing figures that made Amelia's eyes widen.

She looked at him suspiciously.

"What is this?"

"A financial arrangement."

"Explain."

Alexander returned to his seat.

"My family expects me to settle down. There are certain matters involving my inheritance and my position within the company that require me to be married."

Amelia stared at him.

"And?"

"And I need a wife."

For a moment, Amelia thought she had misunderstood him.

Then she laughed in disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

Alexander's expression remained serious.

"I want you to become my wife."

Amelia stared at him as though he had suddenly started speaking another language.

She looked at the documents, then back at him.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"No."

"You barely know me!"

"I'm aware of that."

"You investigated my family without my permission, and now you're asking me to marry you?"

"Yes."

Amelia stood so quickly that her handbag slipped from her lap.

"This is ridiculous!"

Alexander watched her retrieve the bag.

"Miss Rosewood, I haven't finished explaining the offer."

"I don't need an explanation. I need to know why you think I would agree to something so absurd."

His gaze held hers.

"Because I believe you have a reason to consider it."

Amelia's anger faltered.

She already knew what he meant.

Her mother.

Alexander had found the one problem she could not ignore, and he was offering a solution that came with a price.

She looked down at the folder again.

Her hands trembled slightly.

"What exactly are you offering me?"

Alexander leaned forward.

"A contract marriage lasting one year. I will pay for your mother's surgery and cover her necessary medical expenses. In return, you will live with me and fulfil the responsibilities of my wife for the duration of our agreement."

Amelia felt as though the room had suddenly become smaller.

One year.

A marriage.

With Alexander Blackwell.

The man she had already decided she could never like.

"And what happens after the year is over?" she asked quietly.

"We go our separate ways."

"And love?"

Alexander's expression became unreadable.

"Love is not part of the arrangement."

Amelia looked at him for a long moment.

Then she picked up her handbag.

"I need time to think."

"Of course."

She walked towards the door, but his voice stopped her.

"Miss Rosewood."

She turned around.

"Think carefully. This opportunity could change your mother's life."

Amelia's eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall.

"And what about mine, Mr. Blackwell?"

For the first time, Alexander had no immediate answer.

Amelia opened the door and walked out.

She had come to his office searching for answers about her father.

Instead, she had been offered a marriage without love.

And as the elevator carried her towards the ground floor, one terrifying question filled her mind.

Was she willing to sacrifice her own happiness to save the only family she had left?