Chapter 6- Betrothal

Stephanie‘s POV

The room feels emptier now that my father and his entourage have retreated, leaving me alone with Henry. His presence dominates the space.

"It's good to see you again so soon. I hope you're feeling better."

"So, you already knew about the engagement the day you were in the hospital?’

“My grandfather is in poor health and hopes to see me married in his lifetime,” Henry says, his deep voice reverberating through the room. “So I must honour the union as soon as possible.”

He didn’t answer directly—such a cunning man. He can’t be serious? A guy like him, succumbing to family pressure..? I don’t know why he’s going along with this stupid ordeal.

I meet his gaze, keeping my voice steady. “Why me?” I ask, the words sharper than I intended.

Henry doesn’t flinch. Instead, he regards me with a measured calm, like he’s been expecting the question.

“I need a wife. And since you owe me a favor, I hope you'll marry me.” His tone was casual, as if the matter were of no significance. “After all, you mentioned being willing to help me in any way you could, and this is what I'm asking for.”

"What... what?" I rubbed my ears, feeling like I had heard too many absurdities today. "Marrying for a favor?"

“This is good for you too.” he replies. “I might not be the wealthiest in my family, but I’m far wealthier than Vince. I can provide for all your needs. I can help you build a better interior design company, one that will thrive with my support. And in the end, I’ll make sure Vince pays for everything he’s done to you—justice will be served. Don't tell me you never thought about this.”

The mention of Vince strikes a nerve.

"You’ll have the chance to fully unleash your talents and achieve great success," he leans in closer, his breath brushing against my ear as he continues, "Imagine Vince’s face as he watches you thrive—picture the regret in his eyes as he realizes the mistake of underestimating you. Through your achievements, you’ll prove your worth—not just to him, but to everyone who looked down on you, believing you could be easily manipulated and sacrificed.”

His words were like honeyed traps, sweet and irresistible. I shift in my seat, my fingers brushing the hem of my skirt as I try to gather my thoughts.

“Sounds sweet." I say, my voice laced with disbelief. “That doesn’t mean you can turn me into your pawn.”

My breath catches, and my mind is racing.

"Don't worry, it's just a simple arrangement," Henry assured, "You don't need to know all the details, but what I can tell you is that marriage would be mutually beneficial for both of us."

"Like a contract marriage?" I clarified.

"Yeah," Henry answered. "You could say that, but I'll keep it respectful and honest. I would never do anything against your will or the contract. I expect you to be polite as well, Stephanie."

Henry doesn’t miss a beat. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a neatly folded document, placing it on the table between us. He slid the draft toward me.

"Think over my proposal, but if you agree to this marriage, you'll have to be with me for at least two years." He took a deep breath, "What do you think?"

I blinked, unable to deny that his proposal was quite tempting.

Just two years of pretending, of playing the perfect wife to a man I barely know. It would not only make Vince and Darci pay for everything they had done, but it would also give me something I desperately need—a chance to showcase my talents and prove my personal worth.

But..

“No,” I say firmly, setting the paper back down. “I can’t agree to this. I’ve already walked into a loveless marriage once, and I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Henry. And the same goes for you—you deserve someone who truly loves you.”

Henry’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, perhaps, or frustration. “This isn’t love,” he says, his tone low and measured. “It’s strategy.”

I stand abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as I push it back. “I don’t care what it is,” I snap.

“This is ridiculous—wait, are you doing this because of Vince? Is this your way of getting back at him?”

“It’s not me who’ll be threatened by Vince.” For the first time, Henry’s calm facade cracks. He leans forward, his elbows resting on the table, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Do you think Vince is going to leave you alone after the divorce?” he asks, his voice quiet but cutting. “Do you think he’ll let you walk away without repercussions, without making sure you suffer for defying him?”

His words hit their mark, dredging up memories I’ve tried to bury—the sharp sting of Vince’s disdain, the way he relished tearing me down. My resolve wavers, but I lift my chin, refusing to let Henry see my fear.

“I’ll deal with Vince on my own,” I say, though the words feel hollow even as I speak them. “I don’t need your help.”

Henry shakes his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re strong, I know that much,” he admits. “Strength alone won’t protect you. This isn’t just about you anymore.”

I hesitate, his words sinking in despite my resistance. My mind races, weighing my options, trying to find a way out that doesn’t involve tying myself to him. “I can repay you in other ways,” I offer, my voice softer now. “There has to be something else.”

Henry studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he leans back in his chair, the tension in his posture easing slightly.

I seized the moment, "I'm sure a man like you would not bother to use favours to coerce a powerless woman into marrying him."

"Powerless? Stephanie, you're selling yourself short." Henry’s brow furrows slightly, a flicker of thought flashing behind his piercing gaze.He didn’t look like the type who would give up easily.

I decided to buy some time, after all, patience often leads to a better outcome. “I need time to think about it.”

Henry nodded, his expression softening. “Of course, Stephanie. This is an important decision. Take your time to think it through.”

Relief washes over me, though it’s short-lived as his next words send a fresh wave of uncertainty through me.

“There’s an event tomorrow evening,” he continues, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table between us. “It’s an important social gathering—one that requires a certain... finesse. I’d like you to accompany me.”

I blink at him, unsure if I’ve heard correctly. “Accompany you?” I repeat, my voice laced with disbelief. “To what, exactly?”

“A gala,” he replies smoothly, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “One where my presence—and yours—will be noticed. It’s significant to me, and I could use someone at my side who understands the stakes.”

My instinct is to refuse. The idea of stepping into Henry’s world, of standing beside him as if we’re aligned in some way, feels like a deep resistance. “Why me?” I ask, my voice quieter now. “You must have dozens of people you could bring.”

His gaze sharpens, his intensity making my breath hitch. “You’re not just anyone,” he says, his words slow and deliberate. “You’ve already proven that you’re capable of navigating difficult situations. And,” he adds, his lips curling slightly, “you owe me.”

I clench my fists in my lap, “Can I assume that this is my way of repaying?”

He smiles. “Of course, you can.”