The Proposal I Should Have Refused

Chapter I: The Proposal I Should Have Refused

I had not seen Ethan Blackwood in five years, and I was planning to keep it that way for another fifty.

The last time I saw him, I was eighteen and stupid enough to confess that I had a crush on him. He was twenty-one, home from business school for the holidays, and surrounded by his perfect, rich friends.

His exact words still rang in my ears: "You? Date you? Sienna, I'd rather go bankrupt than date my family's charity case."

Now he was standing in my father's hospital room in Cabanatuan, wearing a suit that probably cost more than our house, holding a small velvet box.

My father was asleep behind the curtain, an oxygen tube in his nose. The monitor was beeping too slowly.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered.

Ethan didn't smile. He never smiled at me. "Your mother called my Lolo. Lolo called me. I heard about Tito Norman."

Of course. His grandfather, Lolo Arthur, was the only Blackwood who ever liked my family. Our fathers were friends before the Blackwood empire got too big to have friends like us.

"I need a wife," Ethan said, like he was talking about needing a new assistant. "My grandfather's will. It says I only get the Blackwood Holdings if I'm married before I turn thirty. I turn thirty in twenty-seven days."

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "And you thought of me?"

"I thought of someone who hates me enough not to want my money. You were top of the list."

He opened the box. Inside was not a flashy diamond. It was a simple, elegant ring. The kind I once pointed at in a mall when I was seventeen and he said it was ugly.

"I remember," he said quietly when he saw me staring at it.

"Deal is this," he continued, his voice back to cold CEO mode. "One year. You marry me, you live with me in Manila, you appear at family events and board meetings as my loving wife. In return, I pay for your father's heart surgery at St. Luke's, I pay off your mother's loans, and after the divorce in one year, you get ten million pesos. Cash. No questions."

Ten million. The surgery was eight hundred thousand. We needed that money yesterday.

"No," I said. My pride was louder than my panic.

Ethan looked at the monitor, at my father's pale face. "Your father has three days, Sienna. Your mother told Lolo. No hospital in Central Luzon can do the procedure he needs. My team already booked the doctor."

My knees gave out. I sat on the plastic chair.

This was Ethan. My childhood enemy. The boy who stole my crayons when we were five. Who pushed me into the mud when we were ten. Who broke my heart when we were eighteen.

And now he was my only option.

"Why me?" I asked again, my voice shaking. "You could marry any model in Manila."

"Because any model in Manila wants to be Mrs. Blackwood forever. You want to be Mrs. Blackwood for exactly one year and then never see me again. That's safer for me. And because..." He hesitated for the first time. "Lolo asked for you. Before he died last month, he said, 'Marry the Alvarez girl. She's the only one who ever told you no.'"

Lolo Arthur died? I didn't know. Tears burned my eyes. That old man used to bring me imported chocolates when we were kids.

I looked at my father. Then at the ring.

"Two conditions," I said.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "You are in no position to negotiate, Enemy."

"One, we live separately. No touching. No... husband and wife things. This is business."

"Fine."

"Two, after one year, you disappear. Completely. No calls, no texts, no showing up in Cabanatuan. You go back to being my enemy who lives in another city."

He stared at me for a long time. That intense, dark stare that used to make me nervous when we were teenagers.

"Deal," he said.

He took my left hand. His hand was warm. Mine was ice cold from the hospital aircon.

He slid the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly. Of course it did. Ethan Blackwood never did anything that didn't fit his plans.

"Don't get any ideas, Sienna," he whispered, his face suddenly too close to mine. I could smell his cologne, expensive and clean. "This is a contract. Rule number one: Don't fall in love with me. It would be embarrassing for both of us."

I pulled my hand away. The ring felt heavy.

"Don't worry, Enemy," I whispered back, using his old nickname for me. "I plan to use this year to finally get my revenge on you. Falling in love is the last thing I'll do."

He smirked. That childhood smirk I wanted to slap and, for a second, wanted to kiss.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Blackwood."

Behind us, my father's monitor beeped a little faster, as if he heard me sell my heart to my childhood enemy.

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