Chapter 1

THE OFFER 

“Is this what my life has been reduced to?” Sophia asked, pensively.

Sophia’s eyes moved slowly to the cracked ceiling, where cobwebs leaned in the faint draft. Her hands trembled as they rested against her sides, fingers curling into her worn dress. Across the room, Alexander Blackwood relaxed in the only undamaged chair in the house, the pale upholstery looking amusingly out of place below him.

He sat like a king examining a shattered kingdom, his long legs drawn out, hands resting informally on the armrests. His tailored suit was clean, a stunning view against the dilapidated living room around him. His expression was one of disappointing expectations, though a feeling of disdain as he glanced at the stripping wallpaper.

“Attractive place you have here,” he muttered, breaking the silence. His sharp blue eyes tossed to hers, sparkling with mockery. “I see why you’re so attached to it.”

Sophia enraged, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “If you’re just here to insult my home, you can leave.”

Alexander’s smile deepened as he leaned back, the chair clattering below his weight. “I’m not insulting it. I’m merely pointing out the obvious. This... house”—he gestured lazily—“is falling apart. Just like everything else in your life, Sophia.” He mocked her, beamily 

Her throat tightened, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her weakened. “Why are you even here, Alexander? To mock? To make me feel small?” She raised her voice.

He stood instantly, his tall frame commanding the space. “I’m here because you need me. Whether you like it or not.”

Sophia looked away,the self-elevation amazed him, her heart pounding in her chest. She detest the way his presence filled the room, how his words covered around her like chains.

He took a step closer, his voice softening but losing none of its arrogance. “You’re struggling, Sophia. This house, your mother’s illness, your brother’s future... it’s all slipping through your fingers. And you know it.”

She swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on the floor. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“No,” he agreed, stepping even closer, “but you need it.” 

His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. The unexpected touch made her flinch, but she stood her ground, her breath hitching. Then, he started to caress his hand on her hair romantically.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice low and firm.

Sophia hesitated before lifting her eyes to meet his. The intensity in his gaze was unsettling, as if he could see every fear and doubt she tried to hide.

“You’re too proud,” he said firmly, his hand sliding down to lightly graze her shoulder. “But pride won’t save this house. It won’t pay for your mother’s hospital bills or your brother’s academics. Pride won’t keep the roof from tearing down.”

Her jaw fastened. “And marrying you will?”

“Yes,” he said simply, his confidence unwavering.

She shook her head, stepping away from him. “You don’t understand. This isn’t just about financial gain or fixing a dilapidated house. You’re asking me to abandon everything—to sell myself for a year of your games. Am I so cheap?” 

She asked laced with disdain.

Alexander giggled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Sell yourself? Don’t be so dramatic, Sophia. I’m offering you a lifeline.” Alexander stated, a bit furious.

“And what do you get in return?” she demanded, her voice rising.

He stepped closer again, his hand resting lightly on her waist this time. The touch was both possessive and unsettlingly gentle. “What I need,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “Is someone who knows how to keep quiet. Someone who will play the role without complicating my life.”

“What gives you the assurance that I'm the perfect wife for it?” She asked with disapproval. “It sound as forced and command marriage”

“A compulsory union,for the benefit of my craving.” He affirmed.

Sophia’s breath caught in her throat. “So, I’m just a tool to you.”

“A valuable one,” he corrected, his fingers tracing a slow line up her arm. “And in return, you’ll get everything you need. Financial stability, security, a chance to rebuild life purposefully.”

Her mind raced, his words crafting a harmful web around her. Every thought screamed at her to push him away, to say no. But the image of her mother, frail and coughing in the next room, appears in her mind. The unpaid hospital bills. Ethan’s school fees. The roof leaks anytime it rains.

“You dislike this place,” she said suddenly, her voice trembling. “I'm very sure you will, but my predicament gave you an opportunity to mock me.”

Alexander’s brow lifted in mild surprise. “What gave it away?”

“You think it’s below you,” she continued, her eyes flaming with a mix of anger and desperation. “You think I’m below you.”

He regarded her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to her shock, he smiled. It wasn’t mocking this time, but something softer, almost genuine.

“You’re wrong,” he said quietly, his hand brushing against her hair again. “I don’t think you are below me, Sophia. I think you’re... necessary.” 

The word hung in the air between them, bundled with meaning.

She shook her head, stepping out of his reach laced with disapproval. “I don’t trust you, Alexander.”

“You don’t have to,” he said calmly, his confidence unshaken. “But you do need me.”

Sophia turned away, eyes widened, wrapping her arms around herself. The weight of his offer pressed down on her like a choking blanket.

“I need time,” she whispered.

Alexander nodded, though his sneer hinted that he already knew her answer. “Take all the time you need, Sophia. But remember, time isn’t something you can afford to waste.”

He brushed past her, his hand hanging around briefly on her waist as he moved toward the door. “I’ll be waiting, Sophia.”

The sound of the door closing echoed through the empty house, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Her knees gave in, and she sank onto the worn couch, her head in her hands. The smell of damp wood filled her nostrils, a bitter reminder of everything she stood to lose.

Can I do this? she wondered, tears streaming down her face. Can I really sell myself to save my family?

********

Alexander Blackwood is a son of the famous billionaire businessman, Williams Blackwood. He is one of the prominent business leaders during his time on earth. Upon his demise, his son Alexander, succeeded him and took control of his company.

Now that he has taken control of the business, he has many influences to decide the decision of the company.

One this particular day, he was in his luxurious office when he lost in thought.

The city stretched out before Alexander Blackwood like a shining fabric, the golden lights from the skyscrapers dancing against the dark exhibit of the evening sky. His office, sat high above the bustling streets, was a fortress of glass and steel, every detail designed to reflect power and opulent.

He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, his hands kept deep in the pockets of his tailored trousers. His gaze moved across the skyline, the faint hum of the city below a constant reminder of the empire he had built. Yet, for all its opulence, the view failed to quiet his restless mind.

Is this really the best course of action?

His jaw tightened as the thought hung around, unwelcome and persistent. The idea of a contract marriage was unconventional, even for him. It wasn’t the first time he’d influence situations to achieve his goals, but this felt... different.

His reflection in the glass looking back at him, calm and composed, but the flash of doubt in his eyes deceived the storm rising below the surface.

Alexander breathed out sharply and turned away from the window, walking to his desk. The surface was clean, save for a single file that lay waiting for his attention. He sank into the leather chair, the burden of his decision rest heavily on his shoulders.

He opened the file, his eyes scanning the contents. His expression was unreadable, but his fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the desk, a subtle sign of tension. The numbers, the names, the details—they were all single out perfectly, just as they always were. Yet, a sense of uncertainty haunted him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years. He rested his gaze on a particular statement which states;

“Mr Williams Blackwood is hereby authorised to work with Mr Carter, who owns a pharmaceutical distribution company which the later personal Mr Carter, is subject or have an allegiance to Mr Williams………….” He stopped, closed it and leaned his back to the chair, silently reflecting how the proposed contract would favour his plan.

Association with Blackwood is a leverage to his pharmaceutical business to expand beyond the state. 

A knock at the door interferes with his thoughts.

“Come in,” he said sharply, not making an attempt to look up.

His office assistant, a young man in a firm suit, stepped inside carrying a tray with a glass of amber liquid. “Your drink, Mr. Blackwood,” the assistant said, his tone respectful but careful.

Alexander looked at him shortly, his sharp gaze cutting drawing to the air. “Leave it on the table and go.”

The assistant waited for a little time before setting the glass down on the edge of the desk. “Of course, sir.”

Alexander’s attention had already returned to the file, his body language sent a signal that the conversation, brief as it was, had ended. The assistant silently went out, closing the door behind him.

The office fell silent once more, save for the faint hum of the city outside. Alexander leaned back in his chair, looking fairly at the glass without touching it. His mind sped, the possibilities spinning like a storm.

If she says yes, everything falls into place. If she says no...

The thought faded, unspoken but heavy in his heart.

His phone buzzed on the desk, the sudden noise breaking the silence. He reached for it, his movements thoughtful and relaxed, but the tension in his jaw deceived his impatience.

The message shoned on the screen:

“The offer was rejected.”

Alexander’s hold on the phone intensified, his knuckles whitening. He placed the device back on the desk, his facial expression neutral,revealing no thoughts or emotions, though his heart pounded in his chest.

Rejected.

But which offer?

Was it Sophia, turning down the contract marriage he’d so carefully organised? Or was it the high-stakes business deal his company had spent months negotiating?

For the first time in years, uncertainty holds him. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk as he stared at the phone, willing it to whizz again, to give him answers. But the screen remained dark, the message still the same.

The room seemed to close in around him, the spacious of his office suddenly feeling choking

What if I misjudged?

The thought was foreign to him, a man who prided himself on precision and control. And yet, the burden of it weighing down on him, the unknown threatening to showcase the careful system he had created.

The city lights outside continued to shine, neglectful to his turmoil. Alexander sat motionless, the faint sound of the assistant’s departure the only sound hanging in the air.

As the seconds ticked by, the que

stion worried at him:

Which rejection will cost me more?

The silence gave no answers, leaving Alexander confined in the suspense of his own making.