Chapter 1: Victoria's POV

 buzzed in the air as I stood in the corner, my grip on the glass of champagne a little tighter than it needed to be. My engagement party was supposed to celebrate love, yet it felt like a masquerade. The tension between James-my fiancé-and Sabrina-my stepsister-was palpable, darkening the evening with glances and whispered secrets.

Sabrina came right up to me, smiling slyly; her sequined dress flashed in the light. "Victoria," she purred, holding out her phone. My stomach curled over as she jammed the screen right in my face. A series of pictures stared back at me--James and Sabrina, arms entwined in intimate poses, faces inches from each other.

"Surprised?" she sneered, her voice full of triumph.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my fingers trembling. "Why are you doing this?" I whispered.

"Because I can," she replied smugly. "And because you'll never be good enough for him."

Her words pierced through me, but before I could respond, Sabrina grabbed my arm. "Let's make this evening memorable," she said, dragging me toward the pool in the backyard.

"Sabrina, stop," I protested, tugging. My heart was racing as we approached the water. I couldn't swim—and she knew it damn well.

"Oh, don't be so uptight," she laughed. Suddenly, she let out a melodramatic shriek and began flailing her arms before launching herself into the pool.

The crowd gasped, and James rushed forward, diving in to rescue her. As the water splashed around me, Sabrina's plan became clear. She had pretended I pushed her.

"Victoria!" James shouted as he helped Sabrina out of the pool, his face etched with anger. "What's wrong with you?"

"I didn't—" I started to explain, but the words caught in my throat as his gaze hardened.

No excuses," he snarled, and his back was to me.

My legs buckled, and in an instant, a slip dropped me into cold, black water. The panic swarmed, making every desperate attempt to stay buoyant futile as my arms flailed about. My gasps drowned out the chaos.

No one came. Not James. Not anyone.

Just as the icy grip of the water began to pull me under, strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me to the surface. I coughed and sputtered, clinging to my rescuer as he swam us to the edge.

The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was the concerned face of a stranger.

I woke up to the sterile white walls of a hospital room, the faint beeping of a heart monitor in the background. My throat felt dry, and my body ached as if I’d been hit by a truck.

“Look who’s awake,” Sabrina’s mocking voice greeted me.

She stood at the foot of my bed, her hair perfect, her makeup flawless despite the events of the night. "You looked like a drowned rat in that pool," she said, with a cruel laugh. "James was so worried about me. You should have seen him."

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. "What do you want, Sabrina?"

"Just checking in on my dear sister," she replied innocently.

Before I could respond, James came into the room. His face unreadable, he approached Sabrina and set a protective hand on her shoulder.

"James," I started, my voice quivering with anger.

He didn't let me finish. "Victoria, this has gone far enough. Sabrina informed me about everything—you pushed her into the pool because you were jealous."

My mouth fell open. "Are you kidding me? She pulled me—

Enough," he said coldly. "I will not put up with this, certainly not from my intended wife."

I laughed then. It was a hard, hollow sound devoid of mirth. "Marry? You actually think I'd still marry you after what you've done?"

James's eyes flashed as he glared at me. "Remember, Victoria, you do need a husband to collect your grandmother's fortune. Without me, you have nothing.

I met his gaze, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. "Yes, I need a husband, but not one like you. I'd rather die than spend my life with someone as deceitful and spineless as you."

A flicker of something-maybe guilt-crossed his face, but it was gone in an instant. He turned to Sabrina, who smirked triumphantly.

"Let's go," he said, and the two of them left the room, their laughter echoing down the hall.

Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of breaking me.

The soft knock at the door broke the silence. In stepped the man who saved me from drowning. He was tall, dark-haired, still wet from the pool, piercing grey eyes that seemed to cut through me.

"How do you feel?" he asked, his voice low and calming.

I blinked, trying to find my words. "Better. Thanks to you.

He pulled up the chair and sat beside my bed. "I'm glad I was there. Things could have ended very differently."

I studied his face, trying to place him. "Do I know you?"

He smiled faintly. "No, but you do now. My name is Adrian."

Something about the way he said it—the quiet confidence, the warmth in his tone—made me feel safer than I had in years.

"Thank you, Adrian," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

His expression softened. "You don't have to thank me.  a smile playing on his face. He looked slightly out of place in his work boots, dusty jeans, and a plain gray t-shirt, but something about his presence was grounding.

"Sorry I couldn't get here sooner," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was called to a construction site. Hence the outfit choice."

I couldn't help but smile back. "Don't worry about that," I said softly, and for some reason, I felt an odd sense of comfort in his casual demeanor.

Before either of us could say more, an elderly man burst into the room, commanding the little space with his authoritative aura. He had that confident carriage of one who was accustomed to giving orders, his silver hair gleaming foremost under the fluorescent lights.

"Move along, Adrian," he said briskly, his hand in a wave. "I want to meet the girl my grandson risked his life to save."

Adrian sighed, stepping aside. "Grandpa, please—"

But the old man's eyes widened as he turned to me. "Hold on," he said, leaning in slightly. "Aren't you the young lady from the park?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Three months ago," I murmured, memories flooding back.

Three Months Ago

I sat alone on a weathered park bench, the cool breeze offering solace to the turmoil in my mind. It was one of the few places I could escape the chaos of my life, even if only for a little while.

That's when I saw him-an older man who strolled leisurely through the park. At first, I gave him little attention, but then he suddenly clutched his chest and fell to the ground.

"Sir, are you alright?" I exclaimed, racing to his side.

He didn't respond. His face was pale and strained. Panic surged into me as I knelt beside him. "Someone call an ambulance!" I yelled to the scattering crowd.

I remained by him the whole time, holding his hand, talking softly until the ambulance came. But as soon as they prepared him to go, I want back home. 

Present Day

"You left before I woke up," the old man said, shaking his head. "I didn't get the chance to thank you, Miss."

I gave a small smile. "Please, sir, call me Victoria. And there's no need to thank me. If anything, I should be thanking your grandson for saving my life."

The expression of the man had now turned from stern to a warm smile. "Alright, Victoria. If you want to thank my grandson, you should marry him. He needs to settle down.

"Grandpa!" Adrian exclaimed, his ears turning quite red as he motioned towards the door. "The car is waiting for you outside."

The old man laughed aloud at Adrian's embarrassment. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you two alone," he said, walking towards the door. He glanced back at me just before leaving. "Think about it, young lady."

As the door closed behind him, the tension in the room shifted. Adrian let out a heavy sigh; his hand brushed through his damp hair.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice tinged with exasperation.

I couldn't help but laugh, a real sound that felt foreign after what had taken place in the past few hours. "Your grandfather is quite the character."

Adrian smirked. "That's putting it mildly. He's been trying to marry me off for years.

"Well, I'm flattered, but I think I've had enough of engagements for one lifetime," I said, a bitter edge creeping into my tone.

Adrian's face darkened slightly, his gray eyes studying me. "That man—James. He doesn't deserve you."

The sincerity in his voice took me by surprise. "How would you know that?"

Because I saw the way he looked at you. Or, rather, the way he didn't. A man who loves you wouldn't leave you to drown."

His words came harder than I had expected, the truth in them unraveling the defenses I so carefully constructed. "I don't know why I stayed with him for so long," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Because you believed in him," Adrian said simply. "But sometimes, believing in the wrong person can cost you everything."

"Talking about settling down," I started, looking at Adrian, "do you have someone?"

An eyebrow arched up at my question, yet he answered candidly. "No, I don't."

I nodded, trying to assess his reaction. "I see," I muttered under my breath before taking another deep breath. "What if. we got married?"

Adrian almost spat his coffee out, with his gray eyes wide with surprise. "What?"

Wait," I quickly intervened, raising my hands. "Before you say anything, let me explain."

I straightened in my chair, ready to set everything out. "First, let me properly introduce myself. My name is Victoria Branson. I'm 27 years old, and I graduated from the Business School of Toronto. I make $700,000 a year, I have my own house, and I own my car.

Adrian looked at me, clearly intrigued but still a little skeptical. "Alright."

"I'm just going to be honest with you," I continued, my voice firm. "My grandmother left me her business. It's a huge opportunity, but there's one condition-she stipulated in her will that I must be married to inherit it."

Adrian leaned back in his chair, absorbing my words. "So, you're suggesting I marry you to help you fulfill that condition?"

"Yes," I said, meeting his gaze. "Here's my proposal. You and I get married, and we stay married for one year. After that, we can decide together if we want to divorce or. keep things as they are."

Adrian's words sent a wave of relief through me, though his confident smile and the way he gently tilted my chin caught me off guard. His touch was brief.

"Alright," he said, shaking off the unexpected flutter in my chest. "I guess that makes us. partners.

Partners," Adrian echoed, back to his chair, his gray eyes sparkling with mirth. "This is perhaps the most outrageous thing I have ever agreed to, but hey, that's what life's all about-risk and all that, isn't it?"

I couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Well, I hope this gamble pays off for both of us.

I hesitated a moment, trying to figure out how to say this. "We'll have to make it official soon. A courthouse wedding would be quick and simple, and it'll give us the legal documentation I need for the inheritance. After that, we can figure out how to make our relationship. convincing."

Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Convincing?"

I nodded, leaning forward. "My grandmother's lawyer is sharp, and my family will most definitely do everything in their power to try and sabotage this. James and especially my step-sister will do just about everything to discredit me. They'll be watching us like hawks."

"Sounds like a dream team," Adrian said dryly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "But don't worry. I've dealt with enough bastards. I can handle your family.

Trust me," I grumbled, rolling my eyes. "You don't know what you're getting into."

Adrian laughed, the sound warm and real. "I think I'll manage.

A comfortable silence fell between us for a moment, the weight of what we were about to embark on finally sinking in. I couldn't believe I had just proposed a marriage contract  to a man I barely knew, and if that wasn't shocking enough, he had said yes.

"Why did you say yes?" I asked abruptly, shattering the silence.

Adrian tilted his head, and for a moment, he looked thoughtful. "Because you are honest. You laid it out, no sugarcoating, no manipulation. And, well, I figured it wouldn't hurt to help someone who seems in over her head."

I smiled, appreciative of his candor. "Thank you. I really mean that.

At Richard Branson house.

With a deep breath, I stepped into my father's house, clutching the marriage certificate tightly in my hand. My heart was pounding in my chest, knowing full well the storm that awaited me. The moment I opened the door, the familiar voices of my father, stepmother, and stepsister grew louder, their heated conversation spilling into the hallway.

"There she is," my stepmother, Clara, said with an impertinent smile as she eyed me. "The prodigal daughter returns. Did you come to beg for James to take you back?"