My Husband, the Enemy

Chapter 2- The Proposal

Isabella walkedd into the pristine glass building of Knight Enterprises wearing a crisp white blouse and a fitted grey pencil skirt. She had her long black hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. The click of her heels echoed through the marbled floor lobby. It felt surreal, walking into this respectable corporate establishment all clean, polished and professional. The complete opposite of the dimly lit club she’d left behind.

Earlier she had deposited all the money she got yesterday into the bank and sent it to the hospital. Her mother’s condition had stabilised, but only for a little while, the hospital said. The bills were only going to get higher.

The air in the building smelt clean and fresh, and everyone was walking with briefcases or with a phone pressed into their ear. She rode up the elevator, clutching her worn out black bag tight to her chest, feeling very self conscious.

The memories from last night lingered in her thoughts as she tried to gain composure.

Damian Knight.

Could it be?

She replayed everything again and again. His commanding presence, the way he’d saved her, the card she still had tucked in her bag.

She hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, certainly not like this, but fate had other plans.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Isabella stepped out into the executive office floor, her stomach doing somersaults. She felt exposed, like a fraud walking through these hallowed halls of power. Her eyes scanned the sleek modern décor, the enormous windows overlooking the city, the sharp-dressed assistants gliding by with purpose and chirpy expressions on their faces.

“I hope the pay here is good. It must be good. Look how happy everyone here is,” she thought to herself.

“Isabella Parker?”, a high pitched voice brought her out of her thoughts and into reality. She turned to the direction of the voice and it was a woman in her mid-thirties, with a well tailored skirt suit and a cheerful expression on her face. Isabella clutched her back closer to her, hoping bits of the worn out leather would not be exposed or worse still drop to the clean marble floors.

“That's me”, she said, chuckling nervously, trying to seem confident.

The lady’s eyes swept over Isabella briefly before gesturing toward a pair of massive wooden doors at the end of the corridor.

“Mr Knight will see you now,” she said.

Isabella swallowed, nodding as her legs carried her down the long hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last.

She reached the end of the hallway and paused. God please, she prayed silently, let everything go well.

She pushed the door open and what she saw made her jaw drop.

The man from last night was right here in front of her. Damian sat behind a huge grey desk scattered with files. His concentration did not shake once as she walked in, his eyes were completely glued to his computer screen.

He wore the same style of tailored suit she saw him in last night, in a different colour this time, dark blue. The air in the room suddenly felt hot and stuffy. Her pencil skirt suddenly felt too tight.

The silence between them stretched for what felt like hours till Isabella could finally will her lips to shut.

Damian finally glanced up from his screen and looked at her. His cold, calculating eyes locked onto hers.

“Mr Knight..” she said in a shaky voice.

He didn't respond right away and the silence in the room stretched on. The charming man from last night had disappeared. What was infront of her now was a cold hearted businessman.

He stared at her with an icy gaze. He did not smile at her. If anything, he looked a bit irritated.

“Ms. Parker,” he said, voice low and firm. “You’re late, sit down”

Late? Isabella blinked in confusion but did as she was told. She took one quick look around the room and sat down in her chair, clutching her bag to her chest.

“I believe you have something of mine.”

Her heart skipped a beat. He knew. He remembered her from last night.

There’s no way I'm getting this job now, she thought to herself. My life is over.

She fumbled in her bag till she felt the smooth card. Without saying a single word, she pulled it out and handed it to him across the table. Her cheeks were red, burning with embarrassment. Damian’s fingers grazed hers as he took the wallet, and for a split second, she felt that same electricity she’d felt the night before.

Still, his expression didn’t change. He took the card and nodded. “Good. Now let’s talk about your future here.”

Isabella froze. The last thing she’d expected was for him to acknowledge their night together at the club so coldly and move on like it was just another business transaction. The man who had stepped in to save her from a sleazy customer last night and shared a quiet moment with her—he was gone. This Damian was all business.

“Yes please,” she said, trying her best to sound professional. “I’m ready to begin.”

He leaned back in his chair, relaxed. “Are you sure about that?”

The question hung in the air between them. She stared at him in confusion. The way he spoke to her made her stomach turn.

Isabella shifted uncomfortably in her own chair. “I... I think so. Yes.” she said. But in her mind she was losing confidence in her current situation.

Damian’s lips twitched slightly, though it wasn’t a smile. He tapped a folder on his desk. “I’ve looked through your file, Isabella. And I find it quite impressive how you’ve managed to juggle so many responsibilities.”

Her throat tightened. He knows, she thought. He knew about her financial struggles and her mother's illness. He knew she was a stripper. He knew how bad she needed this job right now. He knew everything.

“From what I understand, Isabella, you’re in need of financial help,” Damian continued, his voice low yet firm. “A lot of financial help”

She looked up at him to speak but before she could respond he continued, “And I have a proposition for you.”

Isabella’s heart pounded loudly in her chest as she tried to figure out what was going on. “What kind of proposition?”

Damian stood from his chair, walking slowly towards her until he stood in front of her. His tall frame towered over her like a shadow. He tilted his head slightly and focused all his energy on her, staring down at her.

“A contract marriage,” he said finally.

She blinked and looked up at him in confusion. What did he just say?.

“A... marriage? You want me to marry you?”

His lips curled up into a slight smile. Isabella shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

“Yes. A marriage that benefits both of us. You get the financial security you need, and I get... something I need.”

Isabella’s mind raced. She still could not believe her ears. This couldn’t be happening. The man standing in front of her—the one who had just the night before saved her from a sleazy customer and offered her kindness—was now proposing... this?

“A business deal,” Damian clarified, sensing her shock. “Nothing more. I have my reasons, and I assure you, they will be clear in due time. Most importantly, I'd like to protect my reputation. I can’t have my .. whereabouts be disclosed.”

Isabella stared at him in disbelief. The sensible thing to do was to decline there and then. It was an insane request. Being someone's wife without even knowing anything about them. But the man in front of her was not just anyone. He was Damian Knight.

The room seemed to close in around her as she struggled to find words. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind—her mother most importantly, then Lila, the bills piling up, her family’s mounting debt and the overall hopelessness of her situation.

She thought about her next words very carefully. “What’s the catch?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Damian’s gaze over her softened as he heard that question. Then he smiled and said, “The catch is simple—you’ll have to trust me.”