(Lilian's POV)
It had been three days since the coffee incident, and I was still trying to breathe normally when I stepped into the office each morning.
People had already started whispering about it, the way Grayson Reed had glared at me, how close I was to being fired. In an office like Reed Industries, gossip traveled faster than any memo.
Every time I passed his glass office, I kept my head down. I focused on my work. I came early, stayed late, triple-checked every document before sending it in.
I didn't want to be noticed. Not again.
But no matter how hard I tried, I could feel the weight of his eyes sometimes, like he was waiting for another mistake.
And that terrified me.
That evening, the office was almost empty. The hum of the air conditioner was the only sound left. Everyone had gone home, but I stayed behind, fixing the mess I'd made earlier that morning.
A misfiled invoice it was small, really, but small things could turn into disasters under Grayson's watch.
My fingers ached as I typed, correcting numbers, making sure every file was exactly where it belonged. The computer screen glowed against the darkness around me.
When I finally looked at the time, it was past nine.
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. My body felt heavy, my head throbbing from too much coffee and too little food.
I was shutting down my computer when a new email notification popped up.
From: Finance Department
Subject: URGENT – Outstanding Debt Notice
My heart stopped.
For a moment, I just stared at the screen. Then I clicked it open.
The message was short.
This letter serves as a final notice for the outstanding debt under Blake Holdings. The total balance of $1,000,000 must be repaid in full within thirty days to avoid legal action.
Thirty days?
My breath caught. I blinked, reading it again, hoping it would change. But it didn't.
My throat tightened.
That debt wasn't even mine, it was my father's. But when he died, everything had fallen to me. I'd been paying what I could, quietly, month by month, thinking I was at least keeping up.
Apparently not.
My hands shook as I printed the letter, the sound of the machine painfully loud in the empty office.
By the time I held the paper, my vision was blurry. I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to calm down.
I couldn't lose everything again. I couldn't
The elevator doors dinged somewhere in the distance, startling me. I hurried to gather my things, shoved the paper into my bag, and left before anyone could see me crying.
Outside, the city lights blurred behind tears I couldn't stop.
I barely slept that night.
When morning came, I was already awake, staring at the letter spread out on my small kitchen table.
It felt like a threat. Like my father's mistakes were chasing me all over again.
I couldn't pay that much money. Not in thirty days. Not in thirty years.
By the time I arrived at the office, my chest felt tight, my steps heavy. I didn't even go to my desk. I went straight to the top floor.
The receptionist blinked when she saw me. "Miss Blake? Do you have an appointment?"
"No, but it's important." My voice cracked. "Please, I just need a few minutes."
She hesitated, then called upstairs. A pause, then she nodded. "Mr. Reed said to go in."
My heart dropped. He never took unplanned meetings.
When I pushed open the glass door, the office was cold and still.
Grayson Reed stood behind his desk, adjusting his cufflinks, crisp shirt, dark tie, every line of him sharp and exact. He didn't look up right away.
"Miss Blake," he said finally, his tone calm, distant. "You're early."
"I…" I swallowed. "I needed to speak with you."
"About?"
I held out the letter, my hands trembling. "The finance department sent this last night. It's about my father's debt. Please, I just…I need more time."
He took the paper, scanned it briefly, and then placed it flat on his desk.
"I'm aware," he said.
My stomach sank. "You are?"
He nodded once. "It's under my division's accounts."
That was worse. Much worse.
"Mr. Reed, I promise I've been paying, just not enough. I'll take extra hours, more projects, anything. Please don't let them…"
He raised a hand, cutting me off. "Miss Blake."
I froze.
"Do you have any idea how many people ask me for favors each week?" His voice was quiet, steady, almost detached. "I don't negotiate debts."
I opened my mouth, but no words came.
He walked around the desk, closing the distance between us with measured steps. "However," he said, his tone changing slightly, "there might be a solution."
My breath hitched. "A solution?"
He stopped a few feet away, his presence overwhelming. "You want your debt cleared. I want something in return."
Every instinct in me screamed that this was dangerous. "What… kind of something?"
He watched me for a moment. "Marriage."
I blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"Marry me," he said simply, as if he were offering a business deal. "For one year."
My pulse spiked. "This isn't funny."
"I'm not joking."
I laughed nervously. "You, you can't just say something like that."
"I can," he said, "and I am."
I took a step back. "Why?"
"Does it matter?" His tone sharpened. "You need the money. I need a convenient arrangement. It's not about feelings, Miss Blake. It's about terms."
I stared at him, searching his face for a hint of humanity. There was none.
"You're serious."
"Completely."
I shook my head. "You can't expect me to agree to something like that."
"I expect you to make a decision."
He returned to his desk, calm as ever, and sat down. "You have forty-eight hours," he said, picking up a pen. "Either you marry me, or you repay the full amount within that time frame."
I couldn't breathe.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
"Then you know what to choose."
I felt heat rush to my eyes, anger, humiliation, disbelief all tangled together. "You can't…this isn't fair."
"Life isn't fair," he said coldly, signing a document without looking up. "And I don't recall asking for your opinion."
My heart pounded in my ears.
"I thought you said you don't do pity," I said quietly.
He finally looked up. "I don't. This isn't pity. It's business."
The words cut deeper than I expected.
When I didn't answer, he leaned back in his chair. "Forty-eight hours, Miss Blake. I suggest you use them wisely."
I wanted to scream. Cry. Something. But all I could do was nod weakly and turn toward the door.
As I reached for the handle, his voice stopped me.
"One more thing."
I turned slightly.
"When you make your decision," he said softly, "make sure it's not driven by emotion. I have no patience for regret."
I walked out before he could see the tears in my eyes.
Outside his office, I pressed my back against the cold wall, my mind spinning.
Marry him?
He couldn't be serious.
But the look in his eyes, calm, deliberate, merciless told me he was.
Forty-eight hours.
That was all I had to decide whether to lose everything… or give up myself completely.