C1 Proposal

Priscilla POV

I agreed to marry my boss knowing he didn’t love me, because I believed love could be learned, felt with time, and that my heart would be enough.

I thought my heart would be enough to make him love me, enough to make our marriage work. I didn’t understand then that love cannot survive where a heart has been buried too deep in fear.

This is how my journey began.

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The woman staring back at me in the mirror looked calm, but I could feel the storm beneath my skin.

“You can do this, Priscilla,” I whispered, gripping the edge of the sink. “Just walk into his office and listen to whatever he has to say.”

My reflection didn’t look convincing. I was standing in the washroom on the executive floor of George Company, one of the biggest corporations in the country. The marble floor was cold beneath my shoes, the air faintly scented with expensive citrus soap.

Everything about this place screamed power and control. Everything about it belonged to him.

Adrian George.

My boss.

The man I loved.

I had loved him from the very first day I set my eyes on him, tall, composed, distant. A man who commanded respect without raising his voice. Over the past one and a half years, working as his personal assistant, my admiration had quietly turned into something deeper, something dangerous.

And now, he was the reason my heart wouldn’t slow down.

He had called me into his office earlier that morning and said he wanted to discuss something important and personal.

Adrian George was not a man who mixed business with personal matters. Ever. That alone was enough to make my palms sweat.

I straightened my blouse, took one last deep breath, and walked out of the washroom. Each step toward his office felt heavier than the last. The hallway was silent, the kind of silence that amplified every doubt in my head.

When I reached his door, I hesitated. Then I knocked.

“Enter.”

His voice, deep, controlled, slid through the door and straight into my chest. I opened and stepped inside.

My breath hitched when I saw him sitting on the couch instead of behind his desk. But what truly stopped me was the second man in the room.

His lawyer. My heart skipped. Why is his lawyer here?

“Good afternoon, Barrister James,” I greeted, forcing my voice to remain steady.

“Good afternoon, Miss Priscilla,” he replied with a polite nod.

“Please, have a seat,” Adrian said, his gaze steady on me.

He looked as composed as ever, dark suit, sharp features, an aura that made the room feel smaller. Being near him always did this to me. Made me aware of myself in ways I didn’t want to be.

I sat.

“Priscilla,” he began calmly, “I called you here because I have a proposal for you.”

My pulse quickened.

“I’m listening, sir,” I said, folding my hands on my lap.

“Before we proceed, you’ll need to sign a confidentiality agreement,” he said, gesturing to his lawyer.

Barrister James handed me a document. I barely glanced at it before signing. I trusted Adrian. I always had.

“Good,” Adrian said once the paper was collected. “As you’re aware, I’ve been under increasing pressure from my family, the board, and the public, to get married.”

I nodded slowly.

“There’s a belief that a man with a stable family is more focused, more grounded. They think marriage will make me balanced.”

His lips twitched, but there was no humor in it.

“I am not in a relationship,” he continued. “And I don’t intend to be.”

My chest tightened.

“I believe in love,” he said, his voice turning colder, “but I don’t want it and don't ever want to feel it. I’ve seen what it does. Love heals people, yes, but it also ruins them. I’ve seen that too.”

The room felt colder.

“So I’ve decided to marry someone I know. Someone familiar. Someone I trust.”

He looked directly at me.

“I’ve chosen you, Priscilla.”

The words didn’t register at first. My mind went blank, like the world had suddenly paused.

“I want a contract marriage,” he said evenly. “A lifetime one. Divorce will not be an option.”

My ears rang.

“This marriage will be built on duty, not emotion,” he continued. “I will not love you, but I will also never love another woman or cheat on you. I despise infidelity.”

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

“You will stop working,” he added. “You’ll stay home, manage the household, bear my children, and fulfill your role as my wife. I will provide everything you need, financially and materially.”

My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

“And don’t be naïve,” he said, his tone firm. “This will be a real marriage. I am a man. We will share a bed. I will not seek intimacy elsewhere.”

He paused.

“So tell me, Priscilla, do you agree to this?”

I stared at him, my thoughts tangled, my heart screaming louder than my reason. This was the moment.

And I didn’t know then that this decision would cost me pieces of myself I wouldn’t get back so easily.