Proposal

The air crackled with tension as I shot Killian a quizzical look, my eyebrow raised in disbelief. "That was not a proposal," I declared with an air of mock seriousness, crossing my arms over my chest. "A proposal must include a proper meal, candlelight, and maybe a flash mob. You know, the works."

Killian, ever the enigmatic maestro of chaos, merely nodded, seemingly undeterred by my attempt to brush off the gravity of his words. He gestured to his assistant to leave.

I felt a twinge of irritation bubbling beneath the surface. How dare he reduce this moment, whatever it was, to a casual exchange?

Killian stood up, his tall frame casting a shadow over me. The proximity was both intimidating and oddly captivating. He met my gaze, the intensity of his eyes locking onto mine. "I don't think you can pay off your family's debt, even if you work day and night, for the next ten years, Ms. Lane."

My jaw tightened, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "What do you suggest, Mr. Anderson? I'm