Chapter 2

Suddenly, a blinding white beam of light cut through the darkness of the night, illuminating Aixa's kneeling figure. The deep, smooth, yet powerful roar of engines shattered the silence of the deserted street outside the bar.

It was not just one vehicle, but a convoy of more than a dozen gleaming black Rolls-Royces that arrived in formation, creating a barricade across the road and stopping directly in front of where Aixa was. The car doors swung open, and several tall, imposing men dressed in pitch-black suits stepped out, carrying large umbrellas as they formed an extremely tight security line.

From the most luxurious Rolls-Royce in the center, a man emerged.

The moment his polished shoes touched the rain-soaked asphalt, the atmosphere around them shifted dramatically, becoming heavy and intimidating. He was exceptionally tall and broad-shouldered, his perfectly proportioned frame wrapped in a custom-tailored Italian suit. His face looked as though it had been sculpted by a master artist—strikingly handsome, yet with a jaw clenched in cold authority. His eagle-like eyes radiated absolute power, distant and untouchable.

A personal assistant hurried to shield him with an umbrella, jogging at his side while clutching several important documents.

"Sir," the assistant said urgently, raising his voice over the sound of the rain. "The stock market opens in a few hours. If those baseless rumors about your sexual orientation, spread by your business rivals, aren't dealt with immediately, the company could lose billions of euros. Your mother may not know about it, but the board of directors is demanding that you publicly demonstrate your marital status."

The powerful man's footsteps halted. His expensive leather shoes stopped only inches from Aixa's trembling fingers on the wet pavement.

"And what do you suggest, Sebastian?" he asked. His voice was low, deep, and resonant—a baritone capable of sending chills down anyone's spine.

"My suggestion, Sir... we don't have time to search for a socialite and go through lengthy negotiations with her family. Find any woman tonight. Someone with a clean reputation, innocent, free from suspicious connections, and most importantly, willing to sign a marriage contract to silence the media. We can buy her cooperation."

The eagle-eyed man lowered his gaze.

His sharp eyes landed on Aixa, who was kneeling beneath him, drenched by the rain. She looked pitiful, soaked to the bone, her inexpensive clothes clinging to her shivering body.

In his eyes, a woman kneeling outside a luxury bar in the middle of the night could hardly be respectable. She was probably just another girl trying to sell herself or trap wealthy men for money.

He let out a disdainful snort, a mocking smile curling at the corner of his lips.

"A woman like this?" he asked coldly, ignoring the fact that Aixa could hear every word. "A low-class girl willing to drench herself in a storm while waiting for a rich man to leave a bar and toss a few hundred-euro bills her way? Disgusting."

The words "low-class" and "disgusting" struck Aixa like a slap.

Her dignity, which had already been shattered by Elio, was now being trampled on once again by a complete stranger.

Yet in her mind, the image of Leo lying weakly in a hospital bed suddenly flashed before her eyes. The nurse's warning echoed in her ears. Two hours. Leo's time was running out. Every second was a gamble with his life.

Aixa knew this was her only opportunity—sent by fate itself, even if fate had arrived in the form of an arrogant devil.

To hell with her pride.

To hell with being mistaken for a gold digger.

As long as Leo could live, she was willing to trade even her soul.

Summoning the last of her strength, Aixa rose to her feet.

Her cheap clothes were soaked through, her long black hair hung in disarray around her shoulders, and her cheek was still red from Elio's slap. Yet her eyes burned with fierce determination, a courage so powerful that even the assistant was taken aback.

Aixa stepped forward, stopping directly in front of the man's broad chest, challenging his overwhelming presence head-on.

"I don't care how dirty or worthless you think I am with those damned eyes of yours, Sir!" she shouted. Her voice trembled from the cold, yet rang loudly through the storm. She lifted her chin and stared directly into his icy eyes.

"I heard every word your assistant said. You need a clean wife for a contract marriage to save your stocks, don't you?"

She drew a deep breath, ignoring the sting of her split lip.

She was gambling the remainder of her life tonight for her brother's hospital deposit.

"I meet your requirements, Sir. I'm not the kind of woman you think I am. I'm still a virgin. No man has ever touched me. I'm willing to sign the contract and become your contract wife tonight, as long as you pay the price I ask for immediately—in cash."

Hearing such a bold proposal from the drenched girl standing before him, the man did not become angry.

Instead, his eagle-like eyes narrowed, studying the desperation and fierce pride burning within her clear gaze.

Interesting, he thought.

A greedy village girl with enough courage to openly sell her virginity for cash in the middle of the night.

He had no idea who this resilient young woman really was, and he assumed she was simply selling herself for money.

Unable to endure the silence any longer, Aixa pressed on.

"Well, Sir?" she asked, forcing the words out with what little strength she had left. "Did I pass your selection process?"

A faint smile appeared on the man's lips—a mysterious smile filled with danger.