Chapter 5
1349 Words
“Hello. I hope they’ve all arrived,” Rose said into her phone.
“Yes, ma’am. Nine candidates are present,” the secretary replied, her voice clear and focused.
“Good,” Rose responded. “Please direct them to the boss’s office and start the interview screening. I just need to find one last person to fulfill her request. I’ll be back shortly.”
She ended the call and took a slow, measured breath.
Rose had driven Cathie to work at dawn, then spent most of the night doing background checks: financial records, personal history, reputation. Each candidate had been thoroughly vetted and presented exactly as Cathie had requested. With her aides' help, she accomplished the near-impossible in a matter of hours.
All except for one.
Rose stood near a small café close to the courthouse… the same public spot where the stranger had bumped into her boss the day before. She scanned the area again, maintaining a composed posture and professional expression.
She approached nearby shop owners, showing them a brief description. They all responded with puzzled looks and polite declines; none recognized the man or had seen him around.
Rose checked her watch.
Thirty minutes passed. Then an hour. Two hours went by without any leads.
She returned to the café owners, handed them small cards with her number, and spoke calmly. “If you happen to see someone who matches this description, please give me a call.”
With that, she turned away.
As she walked back to her car with deliberate steps and lifted her remote key, something across the street caught her attention.
She froze.
A Rolls-Royce Ghost was parked conspicuously, drawing glances from passersby. Beside it stood a sharply dressed man in an expensive suit, his posture stiff and irritation evident.
“Go. Go,” he snapped, shooing someone away with clear annoyance.
Onlookers slowed down, intrigued.
Rose’s gaze shifted to the man being dismissed.
He was casually dressed and moving quickly… almost apologetically—as he jogged across the road.
Her breath caught in her throat.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
It was him.
The very man she had spent hours looking for.
Rose lowered her hand from the car door and watched him disappear into the crowd. She pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled sharply.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath. “Yesterday my boss; today another powerful figure.”
Despite her best efforts, a faint, contemplative smile crossed her lips.
Trouble, she concluded calmly, often arrives disguised as coincidence. And this might be just what Cathie needed.
*****
Cathie was seated at her desk, surrounded by several papers scattered before her. She didn’t look up when the office door opened.
"You took quite a while, Rose," she murmured, deeply focused on signing some documents.
Rose entered quietly, followed by a man whose presence instantly filled the room. Cathie's hand halted mid-note; slowly and somewhat reluctantly, she raised her eyes and froze.
Her gaze met his, and for the first time, the cold, calculating facade she had maintained faltered. It wasn't anger… perhaps not even shock—more like surprise or a quiet acknowledgment that everything had subtly shifted.
"You may… take a seat," she finally said, her voice steady yet measured. "And if you wouldn't mind excusing us for a moment…" Her words were succinct and precise, but her heartbeat betrayed her.
Cathie stood from her chair and walked to a back door while keeping a discreet distance; Rose immediately followed without needing further instruction.
Once there, Cathie spoke loud enough for him to hear.
"Really! Are you serious? You didn't tell me you'd bring him!" Cathie's voice was sharp with disbelief.
Rose's expression remained composed, though concern flickered in her eyes. "Ma'am, I understand. I mentioned it yesterday. Trust me... You might want to consider him seriously. He's... not like the others."
Cathie took a deep breath and studied Rose for a long moment as if seeking reassurance. In that brief pause, a small, nearly imperceptible smile appeared on her lips.
However, she planned to call Rose soon to ensure he would be among the last candidates interviewed; the previous nine applicants had been disappointingly inadequate. Some foolishly hinted at their identities while lingering too long on her body; others struggled to find words or simply faltered in other ways.
Feeling bitterly disappointed, she resolved to contact Rose once she finished attending to her tasks.
Just as Rose understood Cathie better than anyone else… often more than Cathie realized.
Meanwhile, Dominic scanned the office with the calm precision of someone trained to observe: even if he tried to remain inconspicuous, there was an inherent authority in his demeanor. He had arrived earlier, noticed the building's name, and now his curiosity piqued.
The name seemed familiar and significant, but for now, he brushed it aside and focused on the present.
As Cathie and Rose closed the door behind them, Dominic's attention shifted back to the room. He moved forward smoothly, maintaining a composed and professional demeanor, though his gaze lingered… partly curious and assessing. He revealed nothing outwardly but took mental note of every detail as he settled into his seat across from Cathie, with Rose standing beside her.
Cathie's mind raced, even as she kept a facade of authority. Thoughts about the impossible deadline looming over the week swirled through her head, along with concerns about the urgency of the contract and the man before her who exuded a quiet dominance she found hard to ignore. Yet despite everything, she reminded herself that he was just a candidate. Nothing more mattered.
Clearing her throat, she picked up a single sheet from her desk.
Her voice was smooth and professional, unwavering.
“A brief introduction,” she said without looking up. “Your name, background, and your understanding of why you’re here.”
Silence followed.
He had agreed to come along with Rose earlier under one condition: he needed to understand why she was pursuing a contract marriage in person.
They don’t know who I am—neither of them does? Maybe I should just invent a name. Dylan? Rowan…?
“Yeah, Rowan,” the name escaped him before he could think twice about it.
“Rowan Hales.”
Cathie noted everything as he shared details about himself; it was a perfectly constructed lie designed to keep his true identity hidden.
As he spoke, a hint of amusement played at the corners of his mouth.
Finally, Cathie looked up.
This time she studied him longer. His calmness unsettled her… not arrogance or eagerness, but control. It felt as if he were conducting the interview instead.
Without ceremony, she slid a document across the desk.
“I’m Cathie,” she introduced herself. “This is a contract marriage agreement. I recommend you read the terms thoroughly before responding.”
Rowan took the paper, his eyes quickly scanning the first page. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
“If I may inquire,” he said calmly, “what’s the reason for a contract marriage?”
Cathie glanced at him.
“I have one week,” Cathie stated plainly. “If I’m not legally married by then, my father’s company, and my inheritance… will be transferred out of my control.
This marriage secures my position for one year. After that, the contract will dissolve.”
She paused briefly before adding coolly, “You will receive twenty percent of the secured assets upon completion.”
Rowan smiled with interest; it made sense why she opted for a contract marriage. Was it because she was single?
He picked up the pen.
Cathie was still talking when the sound of ink on paper resonated in the room.
Rose's breath caught in her throat.
Cathie halted mid-sentence.
Rowan signed with clarity and assurance, then returned the document across the desk.
Both Rose and Cathie stared at each other in disbelief and shock.
For a moment, Cathie regained her composure. She looked from the paper to him. “Did you even read what you just signed?”
- Writer
