CHAPTER THREE: THE PROPOSAL
1232 Words
The next morning, Amelia woke up to seventeen missed calls.
She frowned, staring at her phone.
Most were from her mother.
The rest from her father.
A knot formed in her stomach immediately.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
She quickly called her mother back. Her thumb shook.
The phone rang once before Sarah answered.
"Amelia."
Her mother’s voice sounded tight… controlled, like she was holding something back.
"Mom? What’s going on?"
A brief silence. Too long.
"Can you come home?"
Amelia sat upright.
"Is Dad okay? Mom, talk to me."
"Just come home."
The call ended.
And Amelia’s anxiety doubled.
Less than an hour later, Amelia stepped into her parents’ apartment. The door felt heavier than usual.
The moment she walked in, she felt it.
Something was off.
Her father looked exhausted. Red-eyed. Shoulders heavy, like he hadn’t slept at all.
"What's happening?" Amelia asked. Her voice came out small.
Neither parent answered at first.
Sarah glanced at Daniel.
Daniel kept his eyes on the floor. He couldn’t look at her.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was rough. "I made a mistake, kiddo."
Amelia frowned. She hugged herself without realizing it. "What mistake?"
"A very expensive one."
Her stomach tightened.
Slowly, Daniel explained everything. He kept staring at his hands.
The loans.
The debt.
Charles Hawthorne.
The deadline.
Every detail.
By the time he finished, Amelia felt like the air had been pulled out of the room. She just stared at him.
"You owe that much money?"
Daniel nodded weakly. He looked ten years older. "I thought I could repay it. I swear I did."
"And now?"
"I can’t." He finally looked up. The shame in his eyes broke her. "I’m sorry, Amelia. I’m so sorry."
Silence settled. Heavy silence.
Amelia looked between them.
Neither of them looked hopeful.
Neither looked certain.
For the first time, she saw real fear in her father’s eyes. Not anger. Fear.
And it scared her more than anything.
"What happens if you don’t pay?" she asked quietly. She already knew.
Daniel let out a bitter breath. It sounded more like a broken laugh. "I lose everything, Amelia. The business, the house... everything I built for us."
At the same time, Charles Hawthorne sat in his study.
The file on Amelia rested on his desk. Her college photo stared up at him.
Across from him stood his personal assistant.
"Mr. Carter cannot repay the debt," the assistant reported.
Charles nodded once. Slow.
"I expected that."
"What would you like us to do?"
Silence. Charles looked out through the large window for a moment, thinking. His fingers tapped the desk once.
Then he smiled slightly. Cold.
"I have another solution."
The assistant waited.
Charles turned back. "Arrange a meeting."
"With Daniel Carter?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Today. Before he changes his mind."
That afternoon, Daniel Carter arrived at the Hawthorne Estate.
His palms were damp. His heartbeat wouldn’t settle. It felt like walking into something he couldn’t walk back from.
The estate was even more overwhelming than he remembered. Too big. Too quiet. Too much.
Luxury and power everywhere. It all made him feel smaller.
A servant led him into Charles Hawthorne’s study.
The old man sat behind his desk.
Calm. Composed. Unmoved.
"Mr. Carter."
Daniel swallowed. His throat felt dry. "Mr. Hawthorne."
Charles gestured to the chair. "Sit."
Daniel sat. The leather felt cold under his hands.
Neither spoke for a moment. Just the clock ticking.
Then Charles folded his hands. "I understand you cannot repay your debt."
Daniel’s face tightened. "No. I mean— not yet. If you’d just give me—"
"I assumed as much." Charles cut him off flat.
Daniel lowered his gaze. "I just need more time. Please, Charles. You know me."
Charles shook his head once. "No."
The word landed heavily. Like a door slamming.
Daniel’s chest tightened. "Please..."
"No." Again. Final.
Daniel’s hands clenched on his knees. He was desperate now. Humiliated.
Then Charles leaned back slightly. "There may be another option."
Daniel looked up. Hope flickered despite himself. Pathetic hope. "What option? Anything. I’ll do anything."
Charles met his eyes directly. No blinking. "Your daughter marries my grandson."
Silence. It stretched.
Daniel genuinely thought he had misheard. His ears were ringing. "My… daughter? You mean Amelia?"
"Amelia." Charles said her name like he’d already decided.
Daniel froze. "You want her to marry Ethan? But sir they don't even..."
Charles continued, calm as ever. "If Amelia marries Ethan Hawthorne, your debt disappears. Completely. Wiped clean."
Daniel’s mind stalled.
A marriage.
To Ethan Hawthorne.
Heir to one of the wealthiest families in the country.
It sounded unreal. Absurd.
But Charles didn’t look like he was joking.
"You can’t be serious." Daniel’s voice shook. "She’s my little girl."
"I am." Charles didn’t blink.
Daniel struggled to breathe. "Why? Why her? There are a hundred—"
Charles gave a small, unreadable smile. "That isn’t your concern, Daniel. What is your concern is whether you want to keep your life, or lose it."
Daniel sat frozen. Trying to process it.
His daughter.
Amelia.
Marry a stranger.
For debt.
The idea was outrageous.
And yet the worst part was simple: he had no better option.
None.
Later that evening, Ethan Hawthorne returned home.
A servant approached immediately. "Your grandfather wishes to see you."
Ethan sighed under his breath. That usually meant trouble. The last time, he’d lost his credit cards for a month, not that he spent much anyways.
He headed toward the study. Entered without knocking.
"You wanted to see me?"
Charles looked up. "Sit."
Ethan didn’t move. "Why?"
Charles studied him for a moment. Then calmly said: "I’ve found you a wife."
Silence.
Ethan stared. He actually waited for the laugh. "You’ve done what?"
Charles simply smiled. Slow. Knowing.
And for the first time in a long time, Ethan felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest. Not surprise. Not curiosity. Something closer to warning.
- Writer
