Chapter 9: His proposal

NILAH

The morning sun was too bright, cutting straight through the blinds of my tiny apartment and making my headache a hundred times worse.

I didn't have time to process last night. By 7:15 AM, my phone buzzed with a text from Darien

“Seven thirty. My driver is outside. Don't make me come up those stairs, Nilah we need to head somewhere together.”

I threw on a pair of faded black jeans, a plain cream sweater, and my old boots. I didn't bother with makeup. I just tied my hair back and ran down the stairs. Standing at the curb was his massive, black sedan.

The drive across town was a complete blur. Before I knew it, the car pulled up to the Mariel Group headquarters—a giant mountain of black glass and steel that I swore I would never step foot into again.

The elevator shot me straight to the top floor. I pushed the heavy frosted glass doors open to the executive boardroom.

My father, Victor Mariel, was sitting at the head of the table. He didn't stand up. He didn't smile.

On the left side sat Darien. His suit jacket was off, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and a stack of legal documents spread out in front of him. He looked harder, sharper, and utterly focused in the daylight.

“You’re late, Nilah,” my father said, his voice flat.

“We said eight o'clock, Victor,” Darien cut in, his voice low and lethal. “It’s exactly eight.”

I sat down right next to Darien. He leaned sideways just a fraction, his shoulder brushing against mine. His heavy, warm presence instantly cut through the freezing air-conditioning of the room.

My father closed his tablet with a sharp snap.

“The morning papers have been out for three hours. The merger announcement is the number one trending topic on Wall Street. Castellano Group stock opened five points higher this morning. You should be thanking me, Darien. My daughter's name just made you a very wealthy man by breakfast.”

“My company was doing perfectly fine before you decided to use your daughter as a press stunt, Victor,” Darien shot back, placing his large hands flat on the table.

“Let’s get one thing straight. I am here to dictate terms. I am not letting the Mariel Group swallow my board of directors.”

“The public expects a wedding, Darien,” my father said, his eyes narrowing.

“If you back out now, or if Nilah runs back to her little bookstore, the market will call it a fraud. Your stocks will plunge twice as fast as they rose. I’ve already drafted the official press release for the engagement party next week.”

“We aren't waiting for next week. This is my marriage, she is my finance I am meant to do whatever I want, I am a man Viktor I can make my decision for myself and for y wife to be,” Darien said.

Suddenly, under the cover of the massive table, Darien’s hand moved. He reached out and grabbed my hand, wrapping his long fingers tightly around my palm. His skin was burning hot against my cold fingers, his grip heavy and firm. It was a silent, intense command. Hold on….

A sudden jolt of electricity ran straight up my arm, my heart instantly racing as his thumb rubbed a hard, heavy line across the back of my knuckles. I blushed furiously, but I didn't pull away. I squeezed back.

“What are you talking about, what marriage? What rush??” my father demanded, leaning forward.

“Nilah is moving into my penthouse today,” Darien announced, his voice completely smooth as his grip on my hand tightened even more.

“If the media wants a story, we give them a real one. We are moving the timeline up. The legal paperwork for the merger contract will be signed by Friday, or I walk away and short your stock myself.”

My father’s face went completely rigid. He looked at Darien, then down at where our shoulders were pressed together. For the first time in my life, I saw my father look uncertain.

“You’re moving in with him?” my father asked, his sharp eyes locking onto me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling the intense heat of Darien’s fingers reinforcing me. “Yes,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “We are doing this our way, dad. Not yours.”

My father let out a cold, mocking laugh.

“Moving in? Please. The media isn't stupid, Nilah. A temporary living arrangement doesn't seal a multi-billion dollar merger. Without a real commitment, the board will see right through this little rebellion. You have no proof.”

Darien didn't blink. He slowly let go of my hand under the table. He reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out a small, velvet black box.

He didn't open it looking at me. He kept his fierce grey eyes locked dead on my father as he slammed the box onto the center of the mahogany table, right over my father's drafted press release.

Darien flipped the lid open with his thumb.

Inside sat a massive, flawless emerald-cut diamond ring. It was huge, catching the sharp morning light and throwing blinding reflections across the boardroom walls. It was easily worth millions… a loud, undeniable statement of ownership.

My father stopped breathing. His eyes went wide, staring at the rock on the table.

Darien didn't look at the ring. He finally turned his head to face me, his jaw clenching as his gaze dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes. The tension in the room snapped like a rubber band.

The air grew completely suffocating as he picked up the heavy diamond, wrapping his fingers around my left wrist and pulling my hand up into the light.

“Is this enough proof for you, Victor?” Darien whispered, his voice dangerously low, his breath brushing hot against my cheek as his thumbs slid over my knuckles, about to push the massive ring onto my finger.