CHAPTER 5
1168 Words
After what Emman said, Meave was momentarily shaken.
She stood there in silence, staring at her son as if she had heard something impossible. Emman had always been quiet—too quiet. Since the day he was born, he barely spoke a word. Doctors said it was psychological. Some said it was trauma. Others said it was because he grew up without a father.
But just now, he spoke.
And he called another man… Dad.
Meave clenched her fingers slowly. Her breathing became uneven, something she had not experienced in years. She had faced business wars, public scandals, and hostile boardrooms without blinking. Yet one word from her child cracked something deep inside her chest.
She turned her gaze to the female butler standing beside the door.
“Go,” Meave said, her voice firm but rushed, as if she was afraid to think too much. “Bring that man here.”
The butler was startled by the sudden order but nodded immediately and left.
Meave pressed her palm lightly against her chest. Her heart was beating faster than it should. The woman who had spent her entire life despising men—who believed they were nothing but selfish and unreliable—was now looking for one.
She hated that feeling.
The butler returned to the guest room where Earl was resting.
Earl’s body was still sore from the accident. His head throbbed slightly, and his ribs hurt whenever he moved. He had already changed out of the blood-stained clothes and was now sitting quietly on the sofa, his posture careful and reserved.
The female butler handed him a glass of water.
“Enjoy your stay, Mr. Valerio,” she said gently.
Earl was surprised. Earlier, her tone had been distant and formal. Now, it was softer—almost respectful.
“T-Thank you,” Earl replied, taking the glass.
The butler hesitated for a second, then spoke.
“Ma’am Meave Castillon wishes to marry you.”
Earl choked on the water.
“Cough—!” He covered his mouth and cleared his throat quickly. “Marriage?” He looked at her in disbelief. “Are you joking?”
He took a deep breath, his chest rising slowly. “I’m already married. I have a daughter. This… this can’t be right.”
“And from what I understand,” the butler said calmly, “you are about to get a divorce, correct?”
Earl froze.
“…Even if that happens,” he said after a moment, his voice firm but calm, “I don’t plan to remarry. Not now. Not ever.”
He stood up and bowed deeply.
“I am truly grateful to Ma’am Castillon for saving my life,” Earl said sincerely. “But I don’t think marrying her is a way to repay that kindness.”
Earl was not a strong man in the usual sense. He wasn’t intimidating or sharp-tongued. He didn’t know how to fight back with words. But he had a gentle heart, and his sincerity showed clearly in his eyes.
Just then, footsteps echoed behind him.
When Earl turned around, he saw them.
Meave Castillon… and Emman.
The butler immediately bowed and quietly excused herself, closing the door behind her.
Earl straightened and bowed as well, out of respect.
Then Emman suddenly stepped forward.
Earl’s expression softened. Seeing the boy up close made his chest ache. Emman reminded him too much of Bella—small, fragile, and innocent. A child who only wanted warmth.
“Come here,” Earl said gently.
Emman smiled.
Without hesitation, the boy wrapped his arms around Earl’s waist.
Earl stiffened at first, then slowly hugged the child back. He closed his eyes, feeling something light yet heavy at the same time. It was a feeling he couldn’t explain—something warm, something familiar.
The child clung to him as if he had always belonged there.
Meave watched silently.
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
Earl loosened the hug and looked up at her.
“So… you’re the one who saved me?” he asked softly.
Meave’s expression remained cold. Her eyes were sharp, unreadable. Whatever warmth had appeared earlier was gone, buried deep beneath years of resentment.
She turned away without answering and walked toward a nearby table. From a folder, she took out several documents and placed them in front of Earl.
“Here,” she said. “My information.”
Earl frowned slightly and took the papers.
As he read the bold letters, his eyes widened.
THE DIASIS CITY’S NOBLE FAMILY — THE CASTILLON
His breath caught.
He continued reading.
Current Head: Meave Castillon
Earl slowly lifted his gaze back to her.
“You’re… Meave Castillon?” he asked in disbelief. “The richest woman in the city?”
Meave crossed her arms.
“Yes.”
Earl swallowed.
“And you want to marry me?” he asked quietly, as if saying it out loud might make it unreal.
Meave met his gaze without flinching.
“Yes,” she said coldly.
She looked at Emman. Her only son, a child who needs a father's love. Now is the chance to have it. To give her son a chance to breathe.
Then she paused, “Please excuse us, Emman." she said.
Emman hesitated. He looked at Earl one last time, as if he wanted to say something, then slowly nodded. The boy turned around and walked toward the door. Before leaving, he paused, then quietly closed it behind him.
The room fell silent.
Earl stood there, unsure of what to do with his hands. Being alone with Meave Castillon felt heavier than facing the crowd earlier that night. Her presence was suffocating—cold, sharp, and untouchable.
“I’m very grateful that you saved me,” Earl said honestly. “But… the richest woman in the city wanting to marry me? This is serious. Too serious." he exclaimed. "I don't even have anything good to offer. I'm broke, I have a daughter, and I am still married. What else do the richest woman in the City wants me?"
Meave did not respond right away. And it makes him even more fragile. As if this is some kind of game. And he already had enough.
She walked past him, her heels making soft but firm sounds against the marble floor. She stopped by the table once again and reached for a thick folder. Her movements were controlled, as if emotions had no place in her body.
She pulled out a document.
Earl watched silently.
Meave turned around and handed the papers to him.
Earl took a look at it, and was stunned by what he saw. It was a contract with all the terms and conditions. Not clearly, but enough for him to realize something, this will be getting serious. Really serious.
“I won’t force you,” she said. Her voice was calm, almost emotionless. She looked straight into his eyes—deep, cold, and unreadable. “Take a look at this contract.”
- Writer
