At thirty-two, Gregory Brandt had become the youngest president the country ever had.
And that man was right in front of me.
His eyes were midnight black, staring at me with disdain. His neat black hair was combed back, his formal clothes were crisp and properly layered. He looked posh, powerful, and influential in every way. Definitely not someone who would pick up a detained murder suspect in the middle of the night.
What could this man possibly want from me? I knew for certain that he wasn't someone paid to dispose of me. As far as I remembered, we had never met each other before. Not even once.
"Welcome back, wife."
He said the words so coldly that one might have thought he was threatening me, but when I realized what he just said, my mouth fell open.
He didn't seem like someone who'd throw a random joke like that. His face was straight.
Didn't the officer mention earlier about my husband waiting for me outside? What was happening?
"W-wife? What-"
"You must know me. I am Gregory Brandt."
"Yes," I nodded. My heart was beating so loud, it was ringing in my ears. "Of course I-I know who you are, Mr. President."
"But why are you calling me…" I couldn't spit the word out, thinking it might be too insolent to mention it.
I blinked. He was still staring seriously.
Was he mistaking me for someone else? But I'd never heard of the president being married. He had just been elected earlier this year, though.
Did he marry before the election, that's why there was no news? But even if that was the case, the First Lady would have been all over the news when he won. Also, Gregory Brandt was famous among young ladies because he was still a bachelor.
"You must be wondering why your case was dismissed," Mr. President said.
"Yes…"
"I made it possible."
My eyes widened. "You did? Why?"
He was powerful because he was the president of the country, but even the most powerful man has limitations. How was it possible? And why did he do it?
He called me wife… could it be…
I bit the insides of my bottom lip.
I was a popular singer and had released several hit songs. Before my downfall, I was always praised for my beauty. It was possible the president had seen my face on television or social media.
Could he have taken a liking to me and decided to take me as his wife?
That was possible, wasn't it? I mean, it wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
A year ago, a businessman abroad had bought the first VIP row of seats in my concert, asked me to dinner as a fan, but he ended up proposing an indecent relationship with me. Also, there was a fan of a famous artist I knew who proposed marriage during a fan meeting.
Weird things could happen to celebrities. So I wouldn't be surprised if the president was a fan who wanted to grab this chance to be my hero.
"Are you listening?"
I jolted when I heard the president's voice. His eyes narrowed as if he knew I wasn't paying attention.
"I said I saw your case on television and decided to help you."
I smiled. "Because you are my fan, right?"
"???"
"It's okay. You don't need to be shy." I stifled a giggle. "I've experienced things like this before, you know. Thank you so much for helping me out, Mr. President, but I don't think it is wise for you to marry a widow, especially someone with a tainted reputation. You are the president, after all. You must have good publicity, and trust me, marrying me would do you more harm than good."
His brow shot up. "I don't mind marrying a widow with a stained reputation."
"Oh." I nodded, my smile growing tight. "You are such a good man if you have a mindset like that. However, I still think you should consider my advice. You just recently got elected. You need to earn good publicity-"
"I can take care of my reputation just fine."
My brows twitched, but I kept my composure.
"I know you can take care of yourself. But being a fan is different from being a husband. You can't just marry me because I am an artist you adore. Marriage doesn't work that way."
He didn't seem moved by what I said. He remained calm and serious. His face was stoic, as if he was in a political summit.
"Just because people do marriage a certain way doesn't mean a different approach is not possible. I have my own way of doing things."
He was starting to give me a headache. I had male fans who had sent me gifts while I was detained. But none of them had gone this far.
Not that I expected them to meddle with my life, but who would have thought that the president would get my case dismissed and ask me to marry him?
"Shouldn't you be thankful for getting you out of prison? Why won't you want to marry me?" His eyebrow rose, his eyes challenging me. "I have money, a comfortable home, and I believe I have decent looks."
He was right. I heard the Brandts hailed from old money. And Gregory was fairly handsome for a young man.
"Because… you are deciding on impulse! You like me because you are a fan. But you don't really know me enough to consider me as your wife. And you… I only know you as the president. How do you expect me to respond?"
I sighed. "It's not that I am not grateful for what you have done for me. But you have to understand that my husband just died, and everyone thinks I was the one who killed him. This is a murder case. It's kind of you to help me, but you'd get yourself in trouble if you get entangled in this mess."
"Would you rather I send you back to prison?" he asked coldly. It sent shivers down my spine.
I waved my hands. "No, no… that's not what I said!"
"You don't want me to get entangled with you, but you won't let me correct my mistake and bring you back to prison?"
When I went silent, one corner of his lips rose subtly.
My lips protruded a bit. I looked away.
"I don't want to sleep in prison again. I don't want to be there. Since you have already gotten my case dismissed, then you can't just send me back," I said in a small voice.
"Then marry me if you don't want to stay in prison."