Chapter Three

Calantha stared at the tall man, utterly frozen. Did he just… propose? Her mind raced. Surely, this had to be some bizarre prank. No one in their right mind would casually ask a stranger to marry them, right?

Her lips parted to speak, but no words came out. Instead, her thoughts spiraled back to the day’s events once more— If it weren’t for this man, she might have been severely injured by those men, or worse, killed.

But still, marriage? To a stranger? 

She hesitated, unsure whether to scream at him, thank him, or run away.

“Why would you ask a stranger to marry you?” Calantha finally managed to ask.

The man folded his arms, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. His silence lingered for a moment, but in his mind, he was weighing how much to reveal.

He needed a wife—a temporary one. His inheritance depended on it. Or rather his promise depended on it.

 After years of avoiding his family’s meddling, his father’s stupid decision had thrown him into a crazy situation. Now, he had to provide a wife within the one month or lose everything. And this woman… this desperate, fiery woman with a sweet tongue and a soft heart… seemed like the perfect candidate.

He thought back to the background check Dee had run on her earlier. Calantha Donovan: 26, a hard worker with a history of juggling multiple jobs, a heavy debt burden, and a sick younger brother in the hospital. She wasn’t just desperate—she was resilient.

And he admired that. But more importantly, he knew she’d have no choice but to agree.

He exhaled deeply and broke the silence. “I have my reasons. Let’s just say I’m under a lot of pressure, and this arrangement would benefit both of us.”

“Benefit?” Calantha’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ll make it simple ” He said, calmly. “We’ll sign a contract. For exactly one year, you’ll play the role of my wife. You’ll attend family events and act as if we’re happily married. In return, I’ll pay off all your debts and cover your brother’s hospital bills.”

Calantha blinked, trying to process his words. “Wait… what?”

“You heard me.” His tone was businesslike, devoid of any emotion. “You’ll have financial security for a year, and after the contract ends, you’ll be free to go. No strings attached.”

Her initial reaction was disbelief, followed by anger. 

“Wow, you must be really wealthy.” She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I guess that’s why you think you can just buy anyone and make them do whatever you want. You can see that life has given me quite the rough end of the stick and so you think I’ll be biddable, that I’ll just jump on your offer desperately. You see me as a potential gold digger, don’t you?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly confused by her outburst.

Calantha’s expression darkened. “I’m thankful you came to my rescue today, and as for the money you just paid, I’ll work hard to return it. Give me your number.”

She pulled out her phone, tapped on the dialer, and shoved it toward him.

He stared at the phone, then at her. “You don’t need to pay me back.” He said, his voice tinged with irritation. “You’re not entitled to.”

“Don’t you think I know that, you jerk?” She snapped. “Unfortunately, I hate feeling indebted, so I’ll gladly find ways to pay you back,”

“I said no need to pay back, “ he objected, “That doesn’t even count as pocket money,”

“Yeah,” she let out a sorrowful chuckle, “…indeed. I bet even ten million is not enough to organize a morning meal for you, huh? Thank you for reminding me of how dirt poor I am.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

Calantha cut him off, “No need to explain further, sir. Just… put your number down and save me the stress of seeing your smug face again.”

With a shake of his head and a sigh, he took the phone, punched in his number, and handed it back. She glanced at the screen and froze.

The name he’d saved was ‘Favian Drake’.

Her breath caught in her throat. “Favian Drake?” She whispered. “The Head Manager of DrDB, Favian Drake?”

When she looked up, she saw the unmistakable smirk on his face. 

It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be that Favian Drake—the Nation’s Husband, the man every woman dreamed of. But the smirk said otherwise.

Favian pulled a sleek black card from his pocket and extended it toward her. 

“Think it over,” He said, his voice smooth and commanding. “You might really need my help. If you decide to accept my proposal, come to DrDB and show them this card. They’ll let you in immediately.”

Still frozen, Calantha didn’t move, so Favian slipped the card between her fingers. His touch lingered for a moment before he pulled back. “Stay safe, and I’ll just make it clear to you. I don’t see you as a desperate gold digger. My nephew likes you, so you’re the perfect candidate,” He said before walking away.

As she watched him disappear into the night, Calantha shook her head, still unable to register the reality of this man’s identity. There was no way this man could be the famous Favian Drake. It had to be a coincidence… right?

…

Calantha quietly crept into her apartment, her mind still swirling with disbelief. She tiptoed through the corridors, careful not to wake her landlady, and unlocked her door. 

She dropped her things, walked straight to the bathroom, and turned on the shower. Without bothering to remove her clothes, she stepped under the water and let the tears flow.

Her mother had died giving birth to Lawrence. Her father, unable to cope, had drowned himself in alcohol, gambling and huge debts before dying from lung cancer. And now, Lawrence needed surgery, her debts were suffocating her, and she just lost her job.

Her life was crumbling around her.

She cried until she had no tears left, then peeled off her wet clothes, finished her shower, and ultimately collapsed into bed.

---

The next morning, a loud, impatient banging on her door jolted her awake. Groggy and disoriented, she stumbled to the door, yelling, “What kind of uneducated imp knocks on someone's door like this?”

When she swung the door open, she froze.

“Mrs. Smith!” She stammered.

“You accursed thing, did you just call me an imp?” The landlady snapped, her arms crossed before her chest and her face twisted in anger.

“N-no, not at all!” Calantha quickly lied.

Mrs. Smith pushed her way inside, her sharp eyes scanning the apartment. “Four months.” She barked. “Four months of unpaid rent, do you really think that you can continue to stay here for free?”

Calantha fell to her knees, clasping her hands in a plea. “Please, Mrs. Smith. Just give me a little more time. I’ll pay everything, I promise.”

The older woman’s face softened for a moment before hardening again. “I’ve heard enough excuses. You have three days to move out. I don’t want your money—I want you gone!”

“Mrs. Smith, please!” Calantha cried, but the landlady stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Still kneeling on the floor, Calantha heard her phone ringing. She scrambled to pick it up, and her heart sank when she saw the caller ID: Nurse Liv.

With trembling hands, she answered.

“Calantha, you need to come to the hospital now.” Nurse Liv said, urgently. “Lawrence is having a crisis. He needs surgery immediately, but the doctors are demanding half of the payment upfront.”

“Half?” Calantha whispered.

“Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.” Liv confirmed.

Before Calantha could respond, muffled voices came through the phone.

“He’s not breathing! I think he’s dead!”