I look at the dress hugging my body and then out at the street passing by through the window of the limousine sent to pick me up.
This is madness. But curiosity got the better of me, and before I could think clearly, I was already dressed in the clothes sent to me, waiting for the car that would pick me up. As it pulls up in front of the massive mansion, a knot forms in my stomach.
I take the invitation that arrived with the outfit and walk toward the entrance. I hand it to the man at the door, and he offers a professional smile.
— Welcome, Ms. Malia, he says, gesturing inside.
I smile back and step into the grand foyer. Massive pillars frame the entrance beneath a towering chandelier. The other guests hardly look around; they walk through as if this were just an ordinary living room. They're clearly used to this kind of luxury. I grew up in a comfortable home, but nothing like this.
— Ms. Malia?I hear a woman's voice and turn to find her standing there.— I'm glad you came. I've been instructed to take you to the study as soon as you arrived.She points toward a hallway, away from where the other guests are heading.
I follow her without a word. We walk through corridor after corridor until we stop at a heavy wooden door.
— Please, go in, she says, before turning back the way we came.
I hesitate, wondering if I should just enter or knock. I choose the latter. I knock three times before turning the handle and pushing the door open.
Inside, the study takes my breath away. It's like a private library, with a massive desk at the far end near the windows. And sitting at that desk is Mr. Lecler. His eyes are on me the moment I enter, and unlike before, I realize just how handsome he is. Maybe I hadn't noticed because of the nerves, but my perspective has shifted—or at least, my reason for being here has.
I watch him stand up and walk toward me. Several buttons of his dress shirt are undone, and he holds a glass of whiskey in one hand. With every step he takes toward me, I have to tilt my head further back. When he's close enough, his partially exposed chest right in front of me, I realize how much taller he is.
— You came. I wasn't sure you would, he says, setting his glass on a small side table near the door. Very close to me.
I look at him again, my throat suddenly dry.
— I didn't quite understand what you said earlier. I thought about it a lot, but I couldn't find an answer, I say. — And I was too curious to stay away.
He smiles and turns around, taking a seat on one of the sofas.
— Close the door and sit down, Malia, he says.I hesitate.— I'll explain everything.
Surrendering to my curiosity, I close the door. Immediately, the muffled sounds of the party outside vanish.
— I hate these parties, he says, explaining the soundproofing.
I simply nod and sit in one of the armchairs across from him. I wait in silence for him to speak, but for a moment, he just watches me. Then, he smiles.
— Alright, Malia. I'll be direct, he says, leaning toward me. — I want you to marry me.
I have no reaction. I was already stunned enough when he mentioned the "wife" position in his office.
— I knew you weren't like the others, he says, chuckling at my silence. — I saw you a few weeks ago.
— Where? I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.
— A few days ago, I saw you in front of the Levouir boutique, he says.I close my eyes, knowing exactly what he witnessed.— I was nearby and saw you arguing with a woman. I saw that you didn't back down, even though she clearly had more money and power. You stood your ground even when the odds were against you.
It had been my first day at that shop. The woman wanted to return a dress she had already worn and stained. She didn't like it when I told her it was her fault the piece was ruined and that I couldn't accept the return. Because of the scene she made, that was my first and last day at the boutique. It wasn't much, but for me, it was a start.
— What I'm saying is that I need someone like you. Someone who doesn't bow their head to anyone, he says, sounding matter-of-fact. — I want you to marry me and be the Mrs. Lecler no one expects. If I have to get married, I'm doing it on my terms.He leans back against the sofa.— Malia, I need someone who won't be with me out of greed, pretending to love me just to get something. I'd rather hire a wife. Someone I can trust, so I can keep control of my life.
I take a deep breath. I already know my answer, and I try to find the words to say it.
— You said you knew everything about me before I even stepped into your office, I begin, and he nods. — I'm not sure how I feel about that yet. But it means you know I need money. And no matter how much you offer, I want to work—not sell myself as a wife.I hope I don't sound too harsh.
He says nothing, just continues to watch me with those piercing green eyes.
— I think it's best if I leave, I say. — Thank you for the proposal, Mr. Lecler. I'm honored, but I cannot accept.
I stand up and walk slowly toward the door.
— Malia, he calls out. I stop, but I don't turn around. — I'm not just offering you money.
— What do you mean? I ask.
— I'm offering you the chance to get your daughter back. Once and for all.