Chapter 3: Mister Stranger

Lydia blinked a few times before she grinned and lost it. She didn't think she had the strength to laugh, but that was what she did. She chuckled and clenched down on her stomach, shaking her head.

Just when she thought yesterday was the end to all her insanities, today presented itself with this stranger proposing marriage to her. It had to be a joke, she believed.

His brows pulled together into a frown. "What is so funny, Miss Mars?"

She held her hand out and shook her head, brushing the few tears that rolled down her face with the back of her hand and looked at him.

He wasn't laughing, and this made her laughter die down. He was serious—or was waiting for the perfect moment to pull the gotcha card.

"I am sorry," she said, clearing her throat. "I thought you said you wanted to marry me. That is funny; you've got to see that, right?" She finished, still fighting a chuckle that now caused her head to ache.

He didn't seem to have seen anything funny in that. "I am not here to joke with you, Ms. Lydia; I have a better use of my time than that. I came here to tell you what you are up against and propose a way out for you, which is through marrying me."

Her smile vanished instantly, and now her mouth hung open as his words replayed in her head over and over. "Why would I marry you? I don't even know you."

He stared at her blankly, "It doesn't matter if you know me or not; I am the only one who can save you from this pit. I don't see any other way out for you, and this is a generous offer considering what you have done," he said.

Lydia swallowed, her throat dry. "If you wanted to be generous, you would have just dropped the charges because you know I didn't steal anything, but you are not here to do that; you are here for something else. If you think that's what being generous entails, you haven't opened a dictionary in a while."

Jayden's eyes flickered at her last sentence, and his hands on the table clenched. The sudden change in his demeanour sent chills through her, and she trembled. This man looked dangerous, and she had gotten on his last nerve with her words.

"You are not in the place to be throwing words around; you do not have that luxury. You should be on your knees, thanking me for this offer of freedom; not many are privileged to have it." He said, his voice oozing arrogance and pride.

Lydia kneaded the space between her brows and snuck a glance at him because she couldn't believe those words had come out of his mouth. "You might be rich and sophisticated, but you do not know me. You don't know what I am about or who I am." She said, holding onto the last shred of pride.

There were things she considered sacred and wouldn't change, one of which was marriage. Jumping into it with a stranger she knew nothing about was foolishness of the first order. She still had a little dignity left.

A coy smile appeared on his face, and his mouth twitched to the side. "Oh, I know all I need to know, Lydia Naomi Mars. For example, I know you are a 25-year-old graduate of NYU with a degree in estate planning and rural development. I know you and your brother Kevin Mars ran away from Claris and Michael Mars, your abusive parents when you were fourteen, and he was seventeen, but over the years, he has become like your parents: a terrible gambler, a drunk, and an abuser. You have been in a relationship with Anthony Chester for three years, and judging from the fact that he hasn't bailed you out since yesterday, it tells me whatever you had with him is over. That also means you have lost your job because Anthony Chester was your boss. Right now, you are counting on your drunk and abusive brother to come and bail you out, but I know he will most likely gamble away any money he'll make before thinking about you. Even if he didn't gamble away his money and decide to help you, he is not in the state and won't be back in the next three months. Unless you have the bail money which the judge set to four thousand dollars thirty minutes ago in your possession, and I highly doubt you do, you will remain here until the trial begins, and when you are found guilty, you will lose your freedom, voice, and rights. I have been watching you since you stepped into this waiting room, and I can tell you for a fact that you will not survive a day in prison. So, instead of arguing with your only way out of the path ahead of you, you can accept my offer with a bit of gratitude."

Lydia's cheeks burned with humiliation, and she pressed her trembling lips together, forcing herself to remain silent.

He knew a lot about her, maybe even more than she needed him to, and she didn't know a thing about him except for his name and the fact that he looked familiar.

"You did your research on me." She managed to say after a minute of silence, blinking back the tears that almost blurred her vision.

"I did," he replied, pushing the document before him towards her.

Lydia glanced at it and looked back at him. "You still have yet to tell me what you hope to gain for yourself."

He leaned back and folded his hand over his chest, and this flexed his muscles underneath his white long-sleeve shirt. "Like I told you, I am being generous." He replied, watching her with keen eyes as her wall crumbled.

That was a bullshit response, and she may not know him well, but she knew this fact.

"Do you tell yourself that so you can sleep better at night?" She bit out, her sudden anger getting the better of her.

His eyes switched from victorious to attacking in under a second. "It doesn't matter how I sleep; I slept better than you last night," he shot back, his tone acidic. "And as long as you remain here, I will sleep better than you."

He was as cruel as he was petty, and she didn't know why. Why did this stranger want to marry her?

Lydia entered her relationship with Anthony, knowing he didn't care much for her, and it was filled with regret in the end; she couldn't throw herself into it again.

She cleared her throat and pushed the document back towards him, and with her head held high, she dragged herself up, holding onto the last shred of dignity she had.

Lydia watched her in silence. She knew he came here for one answer and one answer alone. He looked like a man used to getting his way in everything, and even now, he wanted her to give in to his demand. He was right to hope; her back was against the wall with no way out of sight, but she hoped to disappoint him.

"Thank you for your most generous offer, Mr. Stranger, but I must decline. I'd say have a nice day, but I don't know how many people you have annoyed with your words and presence, so have the day you deserve." She walked to the door and banged on it.

Lydia wanted to say more; she wanted to cuss and throw hands or legs, but she knew she would regret that for the rest of her life. Officer Jackson opened the door seconds later and led her back into her cell.