Dear Mr. Billionaire Our Marriage Is Just A Contract
One: The
I take a shaky breath, trying to calm myself. I know I have no business being here, no business asking him for this favor. But with my fa
knock, barely abl
omposed, almost bored, coming f
arge, polished desk surrounded by neat stacks of paperwork. He doesn't glance up ri
ould be. I clear my throat, hoping to try again wit
rrupting me, Miss Rachel," he says in that cold, even tone he always us
. "I. . . I need a loan. My father has been so ill lately.
't soften one bit. There's no indication of sympathy or warmth in his ex
Can you tell me how exactly you plan on paying this back, Miss Ra
can't afford right now. "I'II work extra," I say, attempting to keep the desperation fro
ps staring, his eyes making
t a warm or reassuring smile, either-it's a smile that makes my
ost tauntingly. "Do you think there's anything you
of hope. "Yes, Mr Noah, anything," I say a
ey are disturbing me to settle down. They want me to get married, to show some stability. Even when I don't think I am ready, I just want th
s if they were physically th
es without hesitation. "This is a business arrangement; I want you to know nothing more. Remem
is not a proposal; it's an inanimate contract with no feelings attached. But there i
th to answer,
rying to make sense of his o
ng as if it were just another business deal. I glance down at
oice slicing through my reve
cold impatience. But in the back of my mind, I see my father lying weak and helpless in that hospit
before I can stop it. I really have to know
ck, his eye
And I need someone who won't make this complicated." He stops, his eyes
in amount of truth in that statement- I am desp
barely above a whisper.
oes not touch his eyes. He leans forward, d
No one else will know about this-not your family,
y decision settle over me. This is
into his usual
"This is a business arrangement. Nothing more. You're here to
an a pawn in some chess game he's playing. I swallow
versation has been nothing but a minor nuisance. "
n my legs. I head for the door, reaching for t
always been there for me. I could have met him, but h
questions course through my mind. What ha
t the biggest question
boding grips me like a bad omen-I have somehow signe