365 Days with Him

Episode4

Chapter 4

Bound by Arrogance

Mary’s POV

The room felt colder than it should. Andrew sat across from me, his smug grin practically mocking me, and I had never wanted to wipe a look off someone’s face as much as I did now.

“I can’t believe this,” I muttered, the words barely audible over the pounding in my chest. My body stiffened as beads of sweat formed on my forehead, despite the cool air.

Sitting before me was the man I’d shared the most impulsive, reckless, and steamy night of my life with. A man I thought I’d never see again. But it wasn’t just any man. It was Andrew, Andrew De La Cruz, the infamous mafia lord.

“Surprised?” Andrew leaned back in his chair, his deep blue eyes locked on mine. His voice dripped with condescension, laced with that same British accent that had melted my resolve the first time we met. Now, it grated on my nerves. “Perhaps fate wanted us to meet again.”

“Fate?” I scoffed, glaring at him. “More like a cruel joke.” My voice trembled as my father turned to me, his face a mixture of confusion and concern.

“What’s going on here, Mary?” he asked, his gaze bouncing between us.

I froze, unsure how to explain. How do you tell your father you had a one-night stand with the man now holding the future of your company, and his legacy, in his hands?

“She knows me,” Andrew interjected before I could speak, his tone arrogant and self-assured. “Quite intimately, in fact.”

“Andrew!” I snapped, my voice sharp and low.

“Well, it’s true,” he said with a shrug, clearly reveling in my discomfort.

“Mary, is this true?” My father’s voice cracked, his bewilderment turning to alarm.

“I met him at a party,” I said quickly, avoiding eye contact. “It’s not what you think, Dad.”

Andrew chuckled darkly. “Oh, it’s exactly what he thinks.”

I shot him a glare that could burn steel, my fists clenched under the table. “This isn’t why we’re here,” I said, redirecting the conversation with what little control I could muster. “Let’s focus on the contract.”

Andrew tilted his head, his smile never faltering. “Of course, let’s get back to business. You have my full attention.” But his tone suggested he was anything but serious.

Clearing my throat, I pushed forward. “Here are the financial statements for the last five years. As you can see, our company has been consistently profitable, and with your investment, we can scale to even greater heights.”

As I spoke, Andrew’s gaze never left me. His scrutiny was unnerving, his eyes dark and piercing. It wasn’t admiration, it was something else, something predatory.

When I finished, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Impressive. But why should I invest? What’s in it for me?”

“My father’s legacy is at stake,” I replied, my voice steady despite my rising irritation. “We’re prepared to offer substantial returns on your investment.”

Andrew smirked. “Oh, I’m sure you are. But I’m not just looking for numbers. I want something... more tangible.”

Before I could respond, the door swung open, and a tall, imposing man entered the room. His presence filled the space, his aura a potent mix of power and intimidation.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” the man said, his deep voice resonating. He turned to my father without acknowledging me. “Where are we with the negotiations?”

“Good evening, Mr. De La Cruz,” my father said, his tone respectful yet strained.

This was him, the patriarch of the De La Cruz family. The Father of the Devil.

“Good evening,” I added, standing to greet him.

His sharp eyes flicked to me briefly before he let out a dismissive grunt. “Did they send a child to handle this?”

His words stung, cutting through my composure like a blade.

“She’s not a child,” my father said firmly, though I could hear the unease in his voice. “She’s the CEO of our company.”

The older De La Cruz raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Well, let’s get to the point. I don’t have time to waste.”

I clenched my fists, biting back the urge to retort. These men oozed arrogance, their sense of entitlement palpable. But I refused to let them belittle me.

“We’re offering $500 million,” he continued, addressing my father as though I weren’t in the room. “In exchange, we expect $750 million within five years. Take it or leave it.”

The terms were harsh, almost impossible to meet. My stomach sank. “Can we have 24 hours to consider?” I asked cautiously.

“No,” he snapped, his tone final. “Decide now, or the deal’s off.”

Before I could respond, Andrew spoke up, his voice dripping with smugness. “I have another proposal.”

Everyone turned to him, my father and I exchanging wary glances.

“What if,” Andrew began, his gaze locking on me, “Mary agrees to marry me for 365 days. In return, I’ll personally guarantee the $500 million investment. No interest.”

My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me,” he said, leaning back with a smirk. “One year. Be my wife, and your father’s company is saved.”

“Are you out of your mind?” I spat, my voice rising. “Marriage is not a bargaining chip.”

Andrew shrugged, unfazed. “It’s your choice. Take the deal, or struggle to meet my father’s terms.”

“Andrew,” my father interjected, his voice trembling. “This isn’t necessary—”

“Quiet, Mr. Ezekiel,” the elder De La Cruz interrupted. “Let the children sort this out.”

I turned to my father, desperation in my eyes. “Dad, I can’t do this.”

He looked at me, torn. “Mary, it’s your decision. But the company... my legacy... it’s all in your hands.”

I felt the weight of his words settle on my shoulders like a boulder. My entire life, I had worked to protect my father’s dream, to honor the sacrifices he’d made for me. Now, it all hinged on a choice I never should have to make.

I turned back to Andrew, fury burning in my chest. “Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “One year. That’s it.”

Andrew’s grin widened as he slid a contract across the table. “You won’t regret it.”

I signed reluctantly, each stroke of the pen feeling like a nail in my coffin.

As we stood to leave, I called out to him, my voice trembling. “Andrew.”

He paused, turning back with that infuriating smirk. “Yes?”

“That night we shared together,” I began, swallowing hard. “Did it mean anything to you?”

His laugh was cold and cruel, echoing through the room. “That night meant nothing to me.”

The words hit me like a blow, stealing the air from my lungs. My heart shattered Into pieces as he walked away, leaving me standing there, broken, embarrassed and humiliated.