Chapter Three: A Proposal to the Devil

Silvia's POV

I returned home only to find Winston in the sitting room. He was eating a bowl of cereal while watching TV. He tilted his head in my direction when he saw me, flashing a warm smile at me.

“Honey, you're back,” he said, dropping his bowl of cereal on the table. If I hadn't caught him cheating on me earlier, I would have really fallen for his intimate act.

He stood up and walked toward me, pulling me into a hug. “Today must have been really stressful for you…”

He reached out to take my handbag, but I gripped it. My action must have surprised him because he raised an eyebrow.

“Silvia, are you alright?” He asked me. “The pregnancy test… Did it go well?”

Right. I'd told him in the morning that I was going for a pregnancy test. I'd done this for the past five years, so he was already accustomed to it.

“No,” I shook my head. “The results came out negative.”

I clutched my handbag, my veins bulging. There was no way I was going to reveal the results to him. I had to keep my pregnancy a secret till I divorced him. I couldn't let a monster like him claim a child whom he didn't deserve.

“Silvia…” he whispered, staring into my eyes. His blue eyes were so pure and empathetic. They didn't look like the eyes of a cheater.

‘No wonder he fooled me…’ I muttered to myself, forcing a smile.

“It's alright,” I said. “This is not the first time this is happening…”

“You don't have to feel bad about yourself,” he said. “Maybe we'll go to the hospital together next time… You know, to do a checkup.”

As if…

For five years I'd urged Winston to do a checkup at the hospital, but he refused. He claimed the problem wasn't with him and insisted I should be the one doing it. I advised him several times, but he refused to listen. So, I stopped.

I didn't reply anymore and walked to my room. He must have thought I was really tired, so he didn't come with me to the room. Or he was only trying to cover up his guilt from cheating with me.

“As if,” I scoffed, shutting the door. Someone like him definitely had no guilt. He'd fooled me completely for years, pretending to love me.

I locked the door and took out all the documents from my handbag. They included my grandfather's will and the divorce petition papers I’d signed. I read through everything again, my heart beating fast.

“This has to work…” I took the documents and walked toward my traveling bag. I opened the lock and retrieved a file from a hidden compartment. There was a stack of documents and a platinum business card in it.

I took the business card and stared at the information on top: ELLIOT SALVATORE. THE SALVATORE ESTATE, 5412 CRESTWOOD LANE

LOS ANGELES, CA 90046.

“Elliot Salvatore…” I repeated the name, frowning.

Elliot Salvatore was a very powerful billionaire and Winston's arch-rival. He was the heir of the Salvatore family and owned a very successful company.

A month ago, he'd come to me with a foolish proposal. He'd asked me to divorce Winston, and that he'd establish a company for me if I wanted. Back then I'd been too shortsighted… If only I knew Winston was cheating on me…

Well, it was not too late. I'd agree to his proposal, so that he'd help me with the divorce if Winston decided to make things difficult. I’d also offer my own proposal about getting into a contracted marriage… If he agreed, then it'd be a win-win situation.

I didn't know Elliot’s motive, and I didn't care. All I cared about was claiming my grandfather's assets, so that I'd be able to protect my child.

I went to the Salvatore estate an hour later, filled with anxiety. If he rejected my proposal, this would be the end…

The security stopped me at the gate. “State your business here,” A bodyguard dressed in a black suit asked me.

“Elliot Salvatore,” I said, flashing the business card at him. “We have business to discuss.”

“Sorry, Miss,” the bodyguard said. “But you'll have to leave. Mr. Salvatore doesn't want to see anyone.”

“Tell him Silvia Henry is here,” I said firmly.

The bodyguard's eyes widened when he heard my name. He immediately bowed, apologizing. “I'm very sorry for acting rude, Ma'am. Please come in.”

I didn't say anything and followed the bodyguard into the estate. The other bodyguards didn't even dare stare at me when I walked past.

A few minutes later, I saw a man walking toward us. He was also dressed in a black suit, his hands behind him.

“Good day, Ma'am,” he said, bowing politely. “I'm Mr. Elliot's butler. He's waiting for you in the lounge.”

The bodyguard nodded and returned to his post, while the butler gestured at me with his gloved hands. “Please follow me.”

He led me to the lounge where Elliot was waiting for me. I entered and saw a man sitting on a couch. Green eyes, brown curly hair, handsome face… Definitely Elliot Salvatore. He was sipping whiskey, his feet resting on the table.

“Mrs. Bradley,” he smiled, raising his tumbler at me. “I didn't expect you to come back so quickly.”

He gestured at me to sit, leaning forward. “Didn't I say you'd be back to discuss my proposal? What did you say back then?”

I frowned deeply. “I wouldn't be here if not for special circumstances.”

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “I don't do charity, Mrs. Bradley.”

“I'm not here for your help,” I replied coldly. “I'm here to accept your proposal.”

Elliot must have found it amusing, because he began laughing immediately. It took him a few seconds to stop.

“Sorry, I didn't hear you over the joke,” he said. “Can you repeat what you just said?”

“I'm here to accept your proposal,” I repeated.

“I see…” he nodded slowly. “So you really want to divorce Winston? The same man whom you chose over a guaranteed future?”

“Yes,” I nodded, unblinking. “But I had a proposal of my own.”

Elliot blinked, sizing me up. “A proposal of your own? What could it possibly be?”

I tried my best to maintain a neutral expression as I said, “I want you to enter a contracted marriage with me. It’ll only last for a week—”

“Let's not set the duration quickly,” Elliot interrupted. “You didn't even ask if I agreed with you…”

I almost choked when I heard these words. I couldn't even hide the fear on my face, and he must have seen it. Because the next moment, he curled his lips into a cunning smile.

“Well,” he began. “Don't think you'd inherit my assets by pulling this move. Several women have tried, but they failed woefully. And they're now serving life sentences in god-knows-where.”

“I assure you, I'm not after your wealth,” I furrowed my brows. “I don't even need your wealth.”

“Interesting,” he said. “I agree to your proposal then. But only on one condition…”

I held my breath.

“The contract marriage will last for six months.”