Raphael’s POV
I woke up with a headache and an unfamiliar scent clinging to my sheets.
Something was wrong.
My body felt sluggish, my mind foggy from the alcohol I had drowned myself in last night. I groaned, running a hand over my face before turning toward the warmth beside me.
The woman from last night.
I had been impatient to see what I was paying for, but the moment I finally got a look at her face, my stomach twisted.
This wasn’t her.
My eyes snapped open fully as I sat up, my movements startling the woman awake. Her head jerked toward me, sleep still clouding her wide hazel eyes.
“What the—?” she started, looking around in confusion.
My jaw clenched. I scanned her features again. She looked exactly like the woman I had hired last night, but something was missing.
My gaze dropped to her wrist.
No tattoo.
My blood ran cold.
*"Who are you?"*
Her breath hitched at my question, but then her expression twisted in anger. "Who am I? Who the hell are you?"
I exhaled sharply, pushing the sheets off me. "That’s not the question you should be asking."
Her hands curled into fists, eyes flashing with fury. "No, you know what? That’s exactly the question I should be asking! Because I don’t know how I got here, and I sure as hell don’t know you!"
I narrowed my eyes. "You don’t know me?"
"Should I?"
I scoffed, leaning back against the headboard. "You’re telling me you have no idea what happened last night?"
"Are you deaf? I said I don’t know!"
I studied her, searching for any signs of deception, but all I saw was frustration and panic. If she was acting, she was damn good at it.
"Then how do you explain why you’re in my bed?" I asked.
She let out a bitter laugh. "How about you explain it?"
I wasn’t in the mood for games.
I had paid a woman for the night—one woman. And yet, she had disappeared with my money, leaving this stranger in her place.
My patience was running thin.
"You expect me to believe that you just ended up here?" I asked, voice low.
Her jaw tightened. "I was kidnapped. Drugged. And now I wake up here with some arrogant bastard throwing accusations at me!"
My fingers twitched.
Kidnapped?
If that was true… then someone had set me up.
But that wasn’t my problem.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, walking over to the dresser where my wallet sat. Without hesitation, I pulled out a wad of cash and tossed it onto the bed.
"Here. Take it and go," I said coldly.
She stared at the money, then at me. "You think you can buy me off?"
I raised a brow. "That’s usually how this works."
Her nostrils flared. Before I could react, she grabbed the money and threw it right back at me, the bills scattering across the floor.
"Go to hell," she spat.
My lips curled into a smirk. "Already there, sweetheart."
She glared at me one last time before storming into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.
I exhaled slowly, rubbing my temples.
This was not how I expected my morning to go.
---
I left the penthouse without another glance at the woman.
By the time I stepped into my family’s estate, I was already on edge.
The Gold family estate was massive, a sprawling mansion built on wealth and legacy. But to me, it was nothing more than a glorified prison.
I walked through the marble-floored hallways, the sound of my footsteps echoing against the high ceilings. Every piece of furniture, every painting on the wall, was a reminder of the empire my father had built—a legacy I was expected to uphold.
When I reached the grand study, I didn’t bother knocking. I pushed the heavy doors open and stepped inside.
My father sat behind his mahogany desk, a glass of scotch in hand. He barely looked up.
"Raphael," he greeted stiffly.
"Father," I replied, matching his tone.
He took a slow sip before placing the glass down. His sharp eyes locked onto mine. "Do you know why I called you here?"
I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. "Let me guess. You’re going to lecture me about my responsibilities. About how I’m wasting my life, ruining the Gold family name, and embarrassing you in front of your business partners."
His expression didn’t change. "You left out the part where I remind you that you are not a child, yet you continue to act like one."
I scoffed. "Is this about marriage again?"
His silence was enough of an answer.
I gritted my teeth. "I told you before—I’m not getting married."
"And I told you before, Raphael," my father said, voice calm but firm, "that as my heir, you have an obligation to this family."
I clenched my fists. "I don’t need a wife to be your heir."
"Then prove to me you are responsible enough without one."
I said nothing.
His eyes darkened. "You can’t. Because every day, you prove that you are reckless, impulsive, and incapable of putting anyone before yourself."
"That’s bullshit."
"Is it?" He leaned forward. "When was the last time you did anything meaningful? The last time you committed to anything that wasn’t self-indulgent pleasure?"
I bit back my anger. "I told you before—I’m not going to marry some random woman just to please you."
"You don’t have a choice," he said simply.
I let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, I definitely do."
His next words made my blood freeze.
"You have two days to find a wife, or you cease to be my heir."
I went still.
"You can’t be serious," I said slowly.
His gaze was unwavering. "I am."
My stomach tightened.
This was a threat. A real one.
I had spent my entire life being groomed to take over the Gold empire. It wasn’t just about money—it was about power, connections, control. Without it, I had nothing.
"You wouldn’t do that," I said, but there was doubt in my voice.
His expression didn’t waver.
"You have two days, Raphael. Choose wisely."
I stared at him, my heart pounding.
Two days.
Two days to find a woman, convince her to marry me, and secure my inheritance.
I had faced impossible situations before, but this…
This was the worst one yet.
As I turned to leave, my mind raced with options. But before I reached the door, my father’s voice stopped me.
"And Raphael," he said, swirling the scotch in his glass. "Make sure she’s someone… suitable. I won’t accept just anyone."
I clenched my jaw.
Of course he wouldn’t.
I stormed out of the study, my pulse hammering in my ears.
Two days.
I needed a wife. Fast.
And I had no idea where to start.