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Chapter 2

  • Victor’s POV
  • My father had been fighting a terminal illness, advanced lung cancer for quite some time, and the doctor informed us that he only had about eight months left to live.
  • I couldn't understand why he insisted that I get married at all costs. I just have this aversion to women, I can’t even explain it. Their presence annoys me a lot.
  • It might be because I viewed them all as gold diggers. I mean, my thoughts weren't unfounded. That was exactly what my mother did to my father.
  • I heard she left with all of my father's possessions, running off with another man, leaving him to rebuild his life from scratch. What a wicked woman she was.
  • My father's request was for me to get married. He wanted to see me tie the knot before he passed away.
  • I wanted to honor his wishes, but how can I do that? I’m not fond of women, but I loved my father, so I needed to find someone to marry and then divorce after eight months, which was how long the doctors said he had left. I just wanted him to see me married, that is all.
  • When I mentioned this to my friend Anthony, he suggested I choose from one of the women we see at clubs.
  • I do go to the club to unwind from my workaholic tendencies. The ladies there already knew not to approach me to dance or anything, but Anthony had no problem dancing with as many women as he wanted, which I found really disgusting.
  • As Grace asked for my help, I decided to take advantage of the situation. I would help her, and in return, she would help me. I didn’t see that as a big deal.
  • I felt like she might be a better option than some of the girls I was planning to meet in the club.
  • “You will become my wife.”I said, looking intently at her. Her expression changed instantly and she looked scared. I could tell she wasn't expecting that from me.
  • “It’s just for eight months.” The surprise on her face grew even wider as I said that.
  • “But wait, what if my father doesn't pass away after eight months like the doctor said? Maybe I should extend the marriage duration” I thought
  • “Eleven months, I mean.” I said again, but she just stared at me with a blank expression.
  • This is what I disliked about her. Whenever I scold her, she would always go silent with her head down. Even when I was saying something serious, she was still quiet.
  • “Miss Thomas.” I called her name loudly and leaned forward.
  • “What could she be thinking? Her face was already tearful. What have I said to make her react that way?” I don't seemed to understand
  • I watched her cute, small eyes looking at me, as if trying to gauge whether I was being serious or not.
  • “Sit down.” I instructed sharply before she fell to the floor as she had suddenly looked weak.
  • “Did you understand what I said?” I asked to make sure I was not talking to myself while she stayed silent.
  • “A marriage with you,” she replied, a tear rolling down her cheek.
  • “It’s a contract marriage. I’ll pay you a hundred thousand dollars. I’ll give you the money for your mother’s Whipple surgery when you sign the contract and the rest after Eleven months. Stop making it seem like such a big deal. If you're not interested, just let me know.” I blurted out, and the tears on her face only fueled my anger.
  • “Eleven months marriage.” She repeated with tears streaming heavily down her cheeks
  • Why on earth is she crying? That only fueled my anger more. It was just a simple yes or no question. Why does she have to make it such a big deal?
  • Will I even be able to handle her like this if she agrees to the marriage? I know I can control her. Grace is calm and pretty; I won’t deny that, and she’s also hardworking, but her tendency to cry so easily is really frustrating.
  • “Is it the contract marriage that's causing her to act like this? Would she have behaved better if I hadn't included the contract and had just proposed to her?” I thought, taking a disdainful look at her.
  • “She must be foolish to think I would marry her without a purpose” I muttered
  • “I can't, sir,” she finally said.
  • “You can go back to your office,” I replied, trying to mask my embarrassment.
  • It was embarrassing that my request had been turned down. I didn't expect her to turn me down since she looked like she needed the money badly.
  • She sluggishly stood up from the chair, and I could see her legs shaking terribly as she moved to the door, but I didn't let that move me to pity her. She needed to help me first before I could help her.
  • “Do you even love your mother?” I asked as she was about to open the door to leave.
  • She turned back to look at me. Her face was now as red as fire, she had clearly cried hard for reasons I couldn't understand.
  • “I do,” she replied, wiping her face with the back of her hand, but more tears kept flowing.
  • “If you really love your mother, then explain to me why you refuse to accept the condition. There’s nothing tied to it. No strings attached — just act as my wife for eight months, collect your money, and then you can leave,” I elaborated, hoping to persuade her to reconsider.
  • It was simply about presenting her as my wife, there won’t be any intimacy involved. I thought this would be the easiest thing for her to agree to. I wasn't asking her to sleep with me.
  • “I love my mother so much but at the same time I can’t enter into a contract marriage because of that, my mother will not even be pleased to hear that” she added as she fights with the tears fighting their way down her cheeks.
  • “Then you can go,” I said, turning my attention back to my PC as I heard the door slammed behind her.