002

The Proposal.

Nadia's POV

He leaned in even closer, so close that his warmth completely enveloped me.

And oh my god, his cologne almost got me squealing aloud.

“I haven't seen your face around here before,” he murmured, his dark eyes scanning mine, “What's your name? Are you an upcoming star or something?”

“I—uh, well, I'm…” I stuttered, my brain completely short-circuiting.

I'm so stupid!

I couldn't even form a coherent lie or a speech. He was getting way too close, and my spine was pressed flat against the pillar behind me. There was literally no space left for me to lean back, and I was still trying to process the shock of him breathing my oxygen when a loud voice shattered the moment.

“Hey! Leave the poor girl alone!”

Both Raxon's and my head snapped toward the voice. A man was standing a few feet away, pointing an accusing finger directly at Raxon.

“Why are you bothering her? Huh?” The man yelled, loud enough to draw the attention of the guests around. “Not everyone wants to be swayed by your little charm, man. This isn't even the first time you've forced yourself on women just because you're the famous team captain!”

Well that went down too fast.

Before I could even raise my hand to explain that this was a misunderstanding, someone else in the crowd shouted in agreement. “Yeah, he's right! I saw him cornering her!”

Raxon looked just as confused as I felt for a split second, but then his expression hardened.

He was incredibly drunk, and that accusation clearly lit a fuse. He snarled and charged right toward the man who had started the shouting, looking like he was completely ready to throw a punch.

“Wait, no! Stop!” I cried out, instinctively reaching to grab his arm and hold him back when three massive security guards materialized out of nowhere.

They effortlessly pulled him away from the crowd and dragged him toward a back exit while he cursed and struggled against their grip.

And just like that, he was gone.

My personal space was completely empty now, and that left an ache in my heart. Not just that, I was completely left exposed to the judging eyes of the crowd.

But it was all a misunderstanding. Why can't they see that?

×××

The entire ride back was silent while Anne had completely passed out against the window, I just stared out into the passing streets, my mind spinning at a million miles an hour.

When the car finally pulled up to Anne's place, she blinked awake, gave me a groggy goodbye, and stumbled inside.

Then, it was just me. I had the back seat to myself, staring at my reflection in the glass. Everything had happened so fast…

It made my chest tighten a bit, but I forced myself to breathe. It was just a stupid party misunderstanding. Tomorrow, everyone will forget all about it. And no real damage would be done. Right?

Wrong.

Because the next morning, my phone wouldn't stop buzzing.

My head was pounding with a wicked hangover, and a quick glance at the clock told me I was already very late for work. But I was too exhausted to even sit up.

I blindly reached out, grabbed the phone, and cleared my blurry vision just in time to read the breaking headline:

“Raxon Boyd, the famous team captain, was caught cornering and forcing himself on a woman at an exclusive gala. Sources claim this is not the first time.”

My breath caught in my throat as I quickly sat up, “Oh no, no, no…” I whispered, staring at the screen.

As the hours dragged on, the depth of the disaster I had caused started sinking in. By the time I dragged myself into the restaurant, the news had completely exploded.

And worse this time, it was actively threatening Raxon's entire career. I couldn't focus the entire time at work.

Finally, I managed to slip away for a five-minute break, frantically scrolling through the bitter comments on his posts when my screen suddenly blanked out and a call came in from a private number.

“Hello?”

“Is this Nadia Owen?” a warm, perfectly composed lady's voice asked.

“Y-yes?” I stuttered, my heart leaping into my throat and I couldn't help it, so I blurted, “Look, please don't arrest me! I shouldn't have been there, it was a huge mistake, I can explain everything, just please—”

The woman let out a soft chuckle, completely cutting me off, “Calm down, Nadia. Nobody is arresting you. I only want to meet with you. It will be very brief.”

Before I could even ask who she was, she added, “I will text you the address,” and the line went dead.

A second later, a text notification chimed on my screen.

Without a second thought, I ran back into the kitchen, practically begging one of my colleagues to cover the rest of my shift, and sprinted out the back door.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived at a massive, hyper-luxury hotel suite. The staff at the front desk just looked at me and led me up a private elevator as if I was exactly who they'd been waiting for.

The doors slid open to a breathtaking penthouse, where a beautiful, middle-aged woman was sitting gracefully on a red wine couch.

The moment her eyes landed on me, she smiled broadly.

“Nadia. Come in, sit down,” she said, gesturing to the chair opposite her. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“Oh no, thank you,” I said, my voice shaking as I stayed on my feet. I couldn't handle the suspense for another second. “Please, why am I here?”

The lady didn't answer right away. Instead, she picked up a tablet from the glass table and turned it towards me showing me a video from last night—the exact moment Raxon had been dragged away while I stood there looking guilty.

I immediately shook my head, “Look, it wasn't my fault! I am so, so sorry if this caused any real damage to him. I never should have attended that party, I know—”

“It's okay,” the lady interrupted gently, her expression softening into something resembling pity. “You don't need to apologize for my son's reckless behavior.”

“No, you don't understand, it was all a huge misunderstanding!” I insisted but the woman sighed again, shaking her head. “Young ladies are always so fond of covering up for Raxon's messes.”

The words hung in the air, and suddenly, everything connected.

The striking jawline, her eyes, the effortless air of authority. I stared at her, the realization hitting me like a bucket of ice water.

The woman sitting in front of me wasn't a lawyer or a manager.

It was Joan Boyd. Raxon’s mother.

“Look Nadia,” Joan said, leaning forward, “The public relations damage is already done. There is only one viable option left to save his career.”

“I'll do anything,” I blurted out, completely desperate to fix the life I had just accidentally ruined. “I'll work for your family, I'll clean, I'll sign a statement saying I lied—anything!”

“Marry my son.”

The pause that came after made me understand what she had just said and I snapped myself out of the trance that held me.

“What?!”

“I—I can't,” I stammered, backing away from the couch.

Joan looked at me with one eyebrow arching up. “And why exactly is that?”

My mouth opened, but only a pathetic little squeak came out. I couldn't even find a logical reason to refuse. Anyone else in the entire world would have literally flipped over the table and signed the marriage license in blood.

I mean, it was fucking Raxon Boyd.

“I just can't,” I blurted out again, “Thank you for your time, truly, but I have to get back to work.”

I didn't wait for her to answer as I practically sprinted out of the place and straight into the afternoon sun.

What in the flipping world just happened?