The Proposal
1425 Words
|Lara’s POV|
—
I sat up in the armchair of my room by my window, the warmth of the side table's lamp hitting my eyes.
Damien's proposal lingered in my mind like a stubborn cloud.
No matter how hard I tried to focus on something else– anything else, it kept resurfacing.
Pretend to be engaged to him?
How was I even supposed to pull that?
My boss who I was falling for offered me a way out of my financial nightmare that had consumed my life.
The promise of financial security for my mother's medical bills was almost too tempting to ignore.
Almost.
But at what cost?
I reached for my phone on the table, my fingers brushing against its cold surface.
My chest tightened as I hesitated.
Was this the right thing to do? Could I really agree to something so absurd?
Before I could overthink it any further, I dialed Damien’s number.
It rang twice before his calm, measured voice answered.
“Lara,” he said, his tone as composed as ever.
“I’ve been thinking about your proposal,” I began, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.
“I have questions—and concerns. Can we discuss them in person?”
There was a brief pause on the other end.
“Of course. Where would you like to meet?”
I glanced out the window, searching for a neutral space where I’d feel comfortable.
“The coffee shop on 8th Avenue?”
“I'll meet you there in twenty minutes,” he replied without hesitation.
The line went dead before I could second-guess myself.
I exhaled slowly, holding onto the phone tightly.
I didn't know what I was walking into, but one thing was certain, this conversation needed to happen.
For clarity's sake.
—
I walked into the coffee shop.
Damien was already seated there at the corner near the window.
His dark suit and perfectly styled hair made him stand out in the casual atmosphere, and I noticed a few heads turning in his direction.
He had that kind of presence, commanding, yet effortlessly understated.
When he saw me, he nodded in acknowledgment, waving
When he saw me, he stood briefly, nodding in acknowledgement, waking with a short smile.
My heart skipped.
“Lara.”
I made my way over to where he sat, relaxing into the seat across from him.
A steaming cup of coffee sat in front of me, its rich aroma filling the cool air.
“How do you know how I liked my coffee?” I asked, surprised.
“From watching you, I make it a point to remember important details though,” he replied with a faint smile.
“I figured you would use something to ease your nerves.”
Gosh, was it so obvious I was tense?
He wasn't wrong though. My fingers wrapped around the warm mug as I tried to collect my thoughts.
I exhaled.
“I’m going to be honest with you,” I began, breaking the silence.
“This whole thing, you asking me to pretend to be your fiancée, it’s insane.
I don’t even know where to start.”
Damien leaned back in his seat, his dark eyes fixed on mine.
“Then let me make it simple for you. I trust you, Lara.
You’re not like the people I’m surrounded by—you’re genuine.
You don’t have ulterior motives, and that’s exactly what I need right now.”
I blinked, caught off guard.
“Why me, though? Why not hire someone who’s… I don’t know… experienced in this kind of arrangement?”
“Because that’s exactly what my father would expect,” he said, his voice steady.
“And I can’t risk him finding out this is staged. He has people watching my every move, waiting for me to slip up.
Hiring a stranger would only raise suspicion. But you… you’re different. He wouldn’t see you coming.”
There was something in his tone—a vulnerability he was trying to mask.
I studied him for a moment, searching for any cracks in his carefully composed exterior.
“There’s more to this, isn’t there?” I asked quietly.
Damien hesitated, his gaze dropping to the table for a brief second before meeting mine again.
“Yes,” he admitted. “You’ve probably noticed that I’ve been in a wheelchair.”
I nodded, unsure where he was going with this.
“I’m not actually crippled,” he said bluntly.
The words hung in the air, heavy and shocking.
My head struggled to process the statement.
“What?” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m only pretending,” he explained, his tone calm but laced with tension.
“It’s a long story, but the short version is that my father doesn’t trust me and I can't have my stepbrother inherit all I've ever labored for, my dad, he’s been trying to control every aspect of my life since I was a teenager.
Pretending to be injured keeps him at bay. It’s the only way I can take what's mine.”
I stared at him, trying to wrap my head around what he was saying.
“You’re faking a disability… to keep your father in the dark?”
“Yes,” Damien said, unflinching. “And if he finds out the truth, it’ll destroy everything I’ve built.
That’s why I need you, you're the first person I'm telling this secret to.
If I can convince him I’ve found someone—someone who stabilizes me—it’ll buy me time to secure what I’ve worked for.”
There was a raw honesty in his voice that caught me off guard.
For the first time, I saw him not as the enigmatic billionaire everyone else seemed to see, but as a man trying to navigate a life full of impossible choices.
I took a sip of my coffee, needing the warmth to ground me. “I don’t know, Damien.
This is… a lot. I have my own responsibilities. My mother needs me.”
“And I’ll help,” he said quickly.
“I’ll cover your mother’s hospital bills and give you time off whenever you need to be with her. You’ll have my full support, Lara.”
I hesitated, the weight of his words sinking in. The proposal was outrageous, but it also felt strangely sincere.
“What exactly do you expect from me in this… arrangement?”
“Just play the part,” he said. “Attend a few events with me, help me keep up appearances.
Nothing more. I won’t cross any lines.”
I studied him carefully. “This stays strictly professional.”
“Absolutely,” Damien said, nodding firmly.
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, his expression instantly darkening.
“Excuse me,” he said, standing and stepping away to take the call.
I watched him from the corner of my eye, his tall figure stiff as he spoke in hushed tones.
His body language shifted—tense, alert, as though the news he was receiving was urgent.
When he returned, there was a different energy about him, a sense of urgency that hadn’t been there before.
“We need to move forward with this quickly,” he said, his voice firm.
“What happened?” I asked, frowning.
“My brother,” he said tightly. “He’s back in the country.
If he gets wind of my situation, he’ll use it to undermine me.
My father listens to him more than anyone else.”
“Your brother?” I echoed, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.
Damien shook his head. “I’ll explain later. But we can’t waste time.
We need to announce our engagement soon, within the week.”
“And what about Isabella?”
“She's not a problem, I'm calling off our engagement.”
The weight of his words settled over me like a heavy blanket.
My life was about to change in ways I couldn’t even begin to imagine.
“Fine,” I said after a moment. “But this has to work both ways.
You help me with my mother, and I’ll help you with your father.”
“Agreed,” Damien said, a faint smile appearing on his lips.
We shook hands, sealing the deal.
As I walked out of the coffee shop that night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just stepped into something far more complicated than I’d bargained for.
- Writer
