CHAPTER 3: AN UNEXPECTED OFFER
1108 Words
Esmée sat hunched over the counter in silence staring blankly into the vodka swirling inside her glass while soft jazz played somewhere in the background.
Today had been one of the worst days of her life.
Fired. Humiliated. Embarrassed in front of an entire restaurant.
And somehow the scene that kept replaying in her head wasn’t even the champagne spilling— it was the fact that Ozbert fitzwilliams had slapped her across the face in front of very important people.
Esmée scoffed bitterly before downing the rest of her drink.
“Another drink?” The bartender nodded towards her empty glass.
“Please.”
The alcohol burned going down, but honestly? It felt good.
Maybe if she drank enough she’d stop thinking about the overdue rent notices and hospital bills.
Maybe she’d stop hearing her grandfather coughing in the middle of the night.
Maybe she’d stop feeling like she was drowning.
She overheard the bartender tell his coworker that Ozbert Fitzwilliams was sitting at the counter.
Esmée froze.
Slowly, she turned around.
And there he was.
Black suit.
Black tie loosened slightly.
Tattooed hands.
Sharp jaw.
Rolex watch glinting beneath the dim lighting.
Staring directly at her, looking irritated enough to punch somebody or break something.
Perfect… just perfect.
Of course the universe hated her.
Esmée noticed he was still staring at her so she rolled her eyes before facing forward again.
She genuinely could not escape this man.
Several minutes passed in silence.
Ozbert drank steadily beside her while staring blankly ahead, clearly lost in thought.
Esmée tried ignoring him.
Tried.
But eventually irritation won.
“You know”, she said flatly, “normal people usually apologize after ruining someone’s life”.
Ozbert turned sideways and looked at her slowly.
“You again”.
“Yes”, she replied sarcastically. “Unfortunately”.
He took another sip of his whiskey.
“I didn’t ruin your life”.
“You got me fired”.
“You were late repeatedly”.
“My grandfather has lupus”.
The words came out sharper than intended.
Ozbert paused and slightly sucked in a breath.
Esmée immediately looked away.
Great. Now she sounded pathetic.
“I have to drive him to treatment three times a week”, she muttered. “I was trying my absolute best”.
Ozbert remained quiet for a moment.
For the first time since meeting her, he actually looked at her properly.
Not the waitress that spilled champagne on his suit.
Her.
The exhaustion beneath her eyes.
The tension in her shoulders.
The way she kept gripping her glass like she was trying her hardest not to fall apart.
“You could have explained that”, he said eventually.
Esmée laughed bitterly. Her jaw clenching tightly.
“To rich people?” She shook her head. “You people hear problems and throw money at them like that magically fixes everything”.
Ozbert’s jaw tightened slightly.
“You don’t know anything about me”.
“And you don’t know anything about me either”.
Silence settled between them again.
Strangely enough this felt less hostile.
Esmée sighed before rubbing her forehead tiredly.
“I lost my job today”, she whispered quietly.
“Rent is overdue. My grandfather’s treatment bills are getting worse and I honestly don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore”.
She hated how weak and vulnerable she sounded.
But maybe alcohol made honesty easier.
Ozbert stared at his drink while an idea slowly formed in his head
Dangerous. Ridiculous. Reckless. But possible.
He glanced at her again.
She needed money.
He needed a wife.
Simple.
Possibly catastrophic.
But simple.
“How much would it take?” He asked suddenly.
Esmée frowned.
“To fix your problems”.
She blinked slowly.
“Excuse me?”
Ozbert turned towards her fully now.
“Marry me”.
Silence stretched between them while they held each other’s gaze, tension thick enough to suffocate the air around them.
Then, she burst out into a shocked laughter.
“Oh my God”, she nearly choked. “You’re not just wealthy and self centered, you’re insane”.
“I’m serious”.
“You’re drunk”, she paused. “And that doesn’t explain why you just proposed to me”.
Ozbert remained calm.
“My grandfather updated his will”. His expression darkened slightly. “If I’m not married before his eighty-fifth birthday, I lose my inheritance and control of the company goes to the board”.
Esmée blinked twice.
“That is the most billionaire bullshit I’ve ever heard”.
“I’ll pay you”.
She scoffed immediately.
“No amount of money could convince me to marry you”.
“One hundred million dollars”.
The words hit her like a slap.
Esmée stared at him.
“What?”
“One year”, he continued evenly. “You act like my wife in public. Attend events. Smile for cameras”. His gaze held hers steadily.
“After twelve months, we divorce and you walk away with a hundred million dollars”.
Her mouth hung open.
This had to be a joke.
There was absolutely no way this was happening.
“What kind of a sick joke do you think this is?” “You can’t just buy people”.
“I’m not buying you”.
“You literally are”.
“I’m offering you a contract”.
Esmée laughed nervously before rubbing her forehead again.
“This is insane”.
“Probably”.
“You don’t even know me”
“I know you need money”.
His words stung, but they were true.
Painfully true.
Her grandfather’s treatment alone cost more than she could manage anymore. And honestly, what exactly did she have to lose?
Ozbert studied her expression carefully.
“You can say no”.
She stared at the drink in her hand.
Then she looked up at him.
“A hundred million dollars?”
“Yes”.
“For one year?”
“Yes”.
“And after that we walk away?”
Ozbert nodded once.
Her heart pounded violently.
This was reckless. Dangerous. Completely stupid.
But it could save her grandfather.
It could save her entire life.
Slowly, she looked up at him.
“I want half upfront”.
For the first time that night, Ozbert smiled. Actually smiled.
“Smart girl”.
“Deal?”
“Deal”.
- Writer
