A Prenuptial Agreement

A good match?

Was that really how she was using the phrase?

A quiet snort of laughter came from the driver’s seat.

Jason couldn’t help himself.

The moment he sensed the icy glare from the backseat, however, he immediately straightened up and focused on driving.

Leonel’s dark eyes remained fixed on the woman in front of him.

She looked like a fallen swan—soaked, exhausted, and miserable, wrapped only in his oversized coat.

Yet her eyes still burned brightly.

Like stars refusing to go out.

One careless glance was enough to scorch their way straight into someone’s heart.

Navia knew he was studying her carefully.

Even so, she forced herself to meet his gaze without backing down.

After a long silence, Leonel finally spoke again.

“What you said…” His deep voice was calm and measured. “Does make some sense.”

Navia’s eyes lit up instantly.

“You mean…”

Nervous anticipation flickered in her gaze.

Leonel slowly extended his hand toward her.

His fingers were long and elegant, his voice low and steady.

“Deal.”

That single word made Navia’s heart leap.

After publicly destroying things with Liam, she had honestly worried she wouldn’t find anyone suitable to marry in time.

But now—

Not only had she found someone…

He was Liam’s own uncle.

Jason cautiously cleared his throat from the front seat.

“Sir, we’re back in the city now. Where should I head?”

“The hillside villa,” Leonel replied.

Navia blinked. “Mr. Crawford… when should I contact you?”

“About what?”

She paused awkwardly.

“The marriage,” she said. “The thing we just discussed…”

“There’s no need to contact me later,” Leonel replied calmly. “You’re coming home with me.”

“…What?”

Leonel raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Or were you planning to walk into the courthouse looking like that?”

Courthouse?

Marriage license?

Navia hadn’t expected things to move this fast.

But there was no way she would refuse now.

“Okay,” she said quickly. “I’ll follow your arrangement.”

The car stopped.

Leonel stepped out first before extending his hand toward her.

“Hold on to me.”

“Huh—?”

Before she could react, he lifted her into his arms once again.

Startled, Navia instinctively wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

This was the second time he had carried her.

And she had never been this close to a man before.

Even during her relationship with Liam, the furthest they had ever gone was holding hands.

She shifted awkwardly in his arms.

“I can walk myself…”

Leonel carried her effortlessly toward the villa without slowing down.

“Are you sure?” he asked calmly. “Can your ankle handle it?”

Navia instantly fell silent.

He had a point.

Without another word, Leonel carried her all the way upstairs and into his bedroom.

“You got caught in the rain,” he said. “Take a hot shower so you don’t get sick.”

Then he added casually:

“Once you’re done, we’ll go register the marriage.”

With that, he turned and left the room.

Navia’s cheeks felt burning hot.

She had never entered a man’s private residence before—let alone his bedroom.

The bathroom suited Leonel perfectly.

Cold gray marble.

Minimalist. Expensive. Immaculate.

Under the bright lights, the mirror reflected her current state clearly.

Her face was pale from exhaustion, but flushed from embarrassment and cold after being drenched in the rain.

She sneezed softly.

Not daring to waste any more time, Navia removed Leonel’s coat and stepped beneath the hot water.

Warm water cascaded over her frozen body, slowly easing the tension in her muscles.

But just as she finished showering and prepared to leave the bathroom, she suddenly realized—

She had no clean clothes.

After hesitating for a moment, Navia wrapped a white bath towel tightly around herself and carefully cracked open the bathroom door.

“Mr. Crawford?” she called softly.

She had never felt this embarrassed in her life.

Her voice trembled slightly, quiet and cautious like a frightened kitten.

After peeking outside, she realized Leonel wasn’t in the room.

She couldn’t exactly stay trapped in the bathroom forever.

Barefoot, Navia hurried out into the hallway and finally spotted him downstairs near the staircase.

Leonel sat alone on the living room sofa.

His tie had been loosened, his suit jacket tossed carelessly beside him.

A cigar burned between his fingers, the smoke curling around him as he sat there silently, almost like some untouchable sculpture carved from shadow.

Mysterious.

Cold.

Impossible to read.

“Mr. Crawford…” Navia called nervously.

Only then did Leonel look up.

The moment he saw her, his gaze paused briefly.

Her long damp hair clung to her pale cheeks, making her look like a drenched stray kitten fresh out of the rain.

The white towel wrapped around her body barely covered enough, exposing her long slender legs beneath.

As Leonel’s eyes swept over her, Navia instinctively curled her bare toes against the floor, unsure whether she was nervous or simply embarrassed.

“I don’t have any clothes to change into,” she explained softly.

Leonel looked away calmly.

“My mistake,” he said. “There aren’t any women’s clothes here.”

He picked up his phone.

“I’ll have Jason bring something over.”

Navia hesitated before speaking again.

“Could I… borrow one of your shirts first?”

“Mhm.” Leonel nodded casually. “They’re in the closet. Take whatever you want.”

After getting his permission, Navia hurried back upstairs.

Inside the walk-in closet, every piece of clothing was immaculate—tailored suits, dress shirts, luxury fabrics.

Everything about it screamed wealth and discipline.

Eventually, she found a white dress shirt tucked near the corner and slipped it on.

When she returned downstairs, Leonel glanced up.

Because of his height, the shirt hung loosely on her frame, oversized enough to conceal most of her body.

She had even used one of his belts around her waist, unintentionally accentuating her slender figure.

Instead of looking messy, it somehow resembled a carefully styled outfit.

A flicker of surprise crossed Leonel’s eyes.

“It looks good on you,” he said.

His low voice made Navia’s cheeks warm again.

Still thinking about the marriage, she quickly sat across from him.

“Mr. Crawford, before we go register, we should probably discuss the important details first—”

Before she could finish, the lingering cigar smoke made her cough suddenly.

She clearly wasn’t used to it.

Leonel immediately lowered his legs from the coffee table and crushed the cigar into the ashtray beside him before standing up.

His tall figure moved toward her, casting a shadow overhead.

Then his warm hand rested gently against her back.

“You okay?”

Navia coughed until tears filled her eyes.

“I’m fine,” she managed softly. “I’m just not used to cigarette smoke.”

A trace of apology appeared in Leonel’s expression.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I won’t smoke around you again.”

Again?

Navia looked up at him in surprise.

Even though they were only entering a contractual marriage, not a real relationship…

Why was he accommodating her so naturally?

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Then, after hesitating briefly, she added:

“Mr. Crawford… before we register the marriage, shouldn’t I sign something first?”

Leonel raised an eyebrow.

“Like what?”

“A prenuptial agreement,” Navia replied cautiously.

Leonel looked completely unconcerned.

“There’s no need for something like that.”

Navia hesitated.

“For the Harrison family, maybe not…” she said carefully. “But aren’t you worried that I might…”

***