Nice To meet You Properly 

Christopher's POV 

"She wants her own apartment."

I looked up from the documents in front of me, my brows knitted. Marcus stood across my desk with his hands clasped behind him, a habit he'd picked up over the years when he already knew I wouldn’t like what came next.

"For the full year. She was clear about not wanting to live in the same house as Mrs Kstervenchi."

I leaned back in my chair, raising a brow. "I can already assume why."

His gaze swept across the room as if deciding whether to say the next part or wait for me to ask.

I cocked my head to the side. "There's more?"

He pursed his lips, then scratched his brow awkwardly. "She said she'd pay for it herself. More like, taken out of the agreed sum."

A tiny laugh escaped me, prompting Marcus to smile too.

And yet again, Amelia Marlowe had managed to surprise me. That was saying something, considering I was a man with an unusual ability for foresight. Or maybe I'd simply seen enough to know how things played out. Either way, not with this woman.

"Do it."

"With all due respect, boss. I will have to advise against it."

I smiled at him. "You don't say."

He groaned then shifted closer to me. "Seriously, boss. You know how traditional the council is. Hell, it'll be a serious issue if they find out it's a contract marriage, worse if she's living separately. Then it'll be catastrophic when they realize she's a surrogate."

I let out a tired exhale, then massaged my forehead. "I know, Marcus. Do it anyway. Make sure it's comfortable and fully furnished before tomorrow."

"And the bill?"

"Have Ruben wire the money once you find a place."

"Hers or yours?"

"Mine."

Silence settled between us, lingering for a few seconds. 

"They'll eventually find out about the surrogacy thing, you know, right?" Marcus said.

I grabbed my pen and went back to signing documents that had piled up in the two days I'd spent finding a surrogate.

"How about you let me worry about my own family, while you make sure Miss Marlowe is comfortable, okay?"

"Boss—"

"Ponyal, Marcus?" [Understood, Marcus?]

He sighed. "Da, shef." [Yes, boss.]

Amelia's POV 

I bit my fingernails, as I tapped my feet against the car floor frantically. I eyed the tinted glass of the vehicle then the huge dark man sitting close to me in a suit and dark shades warily. I hadn't yet decided which one made me want to pee my pants.

The car rolled to a stop and I moved to open the door, eager to rush out to whatever danger might await me. 

I twisted the handle, but the door didn't open. I glanced at the man as he opened his door, stepped out, then closed it.

The sound of the boot opening drifted into my ears, then it slammed shut.

Yup.

This is the part where you get your organs harvested, Amy.

The door opened and I scooted back instinctively. The man just stared at me, his expression flat as he held the door open.

"After you, Miss Marlowe."

Oh, shoot.

Damn, Amy. Your relationship life must have been sad if none had ever held a door open for you.

"Thank you." I stepped out of the car and reached for my bags, but he held them away.

"It's part of my job as your personal butler and bodyguard."

"Oh..."

"Please, go ahead."

I did. My steps were slow, but my eyes were starved as they roamed across the huge building.

"Wow..."

Mr Kstervenchi must have gone all out with the accommodation. I'd told him to get me an apartment with my money, but staring at the house in front of me, I couldn't help the shiver of dread that rolled down my spine at the thought of my remaining balance.

The man held open the door and I stepped in.

"Welcome to your new home, Miss Marlowe."

I stumbled back, my back hitting the huge man behind me, then I turned around sharply. "I'm so sorry," I rushed out before turning back to the brown-haired and browm-eyed middle-aged woman blinking at me in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Miss Marlowe. Did I scare you?" she asked.

Seriously?

"No, no." I shook my head, laughing nervously. "I just wasn't expecting anyone to be standing so close to the door."

"Ah... I apologize, then." She bowed at the waist, then straightened. 

"My name is Martha and I will be your personal servant from here on. Would you like me to show you around the house, or would you prefer to settle in?"

I eyed her, uncomfortable at the word personal servant, but I replied anyway. "Settle, actually."

..............

Martha had told me Mr Kstervenchi would arrive soon, so I'd taken my time to eat, bathe, scrub, and shave. Now, I was walking around the room, taking in everything and anything.

I stared at the bedroom for the fifth time, the walk-in closet for the tenth time, then the bathroom for the third time. The bedroom alone was much bigger than my entire apartment back at home.

So this is life, huh?

Knock. Knock.

Martha opened the door. Her gaze trailed over me before she nodded.

"Mr Kstervenchi is here for you."

I followed after Martha as I smoothed down my dress. I had chosen the best I had, which was a royal blue strapless dress, with a thigh-high slit balancing between formal and presentable. If someone was paying me to carry their baby, then I had to look pretty enough to bear one at least.

"Do you think they've figured it out already?"

I frowned as Marcus's voice floated toward me. My gaze landed on a broad back in a skin-tight white long sleeve and black slacks.

"Even if they did figure it out, you don't think they're going to involve themselves in how I father a child, do you?"

What were they talking about?

"I wouldn't be surprised, Bo—"

 Marcus's gaze landed on me first.

"Ah, Miss Marlowe."

The other man turned around and a familiar pair of green eyes met mine.

My expression lightened as I walked up to the man. "Elevator man."

Marcus eyed him, but the man simply smiled at me.

"I see we meet again," he said.

I smacked his arm with a playful tsk. "You made me late for my interview. Mr Larvin here almost didn't accept me, you know?"

"I'm truly sorry about that."

"Nah... It's fine." I grinned, waving dismissively. "How come you're here now?"

"I'm actually—"

"Wait. Let me guess... you work for Mr Kstervenchi too, huh?"

Marcus's lips pressed into a thin line. I squinted at him. "What?"

"Well... I would say I do," the man said.

"What a coincidence. I must apologize about pushing you out of the elevator, that was totally uncalled for."

Marcus raised a brow, as he eyed the man with a tiny smile on his lips.

"It's totally fine."

"We should definitely catch up after this. Drinks are on me."

He chuckled. "Fair enough."

I turned to Marcus, a contagious smile still plastered on my lips. I wasn't even sure what was making me so happy.

Maybe it was the thought of Mum finally getting back on her feet.

"So. You said I was going to meet Mr Kstervenchi. Where is he? I'm so ready to make a good first impression."

Marcus coughed subtly. "I highly doubt there'd be a need for that."

I frowned. "Why do you say so?"

"Because... it seems you and Mr Kstervenchi have already met."

My brows furrowed tightly. "We have?"

He nodded.

I tapped my fingers against my thighs with a low hum. "I'd remember if we had... unless it was at the club. That's where my coworker overheard this whole... contract thing."

"You don't say," Marcus mumbled.

"I just hope I wasn't a total mess then. Now I'm seriously eager to meet him." I stretched my neck toward the door behind them. "Where is he exactly?"

"Uh... he's with us right now," Marcus said, holding out his hand to me.

"Miss Marlowe, meet Mr Kstervenchi." He pointed to the man beside him.

Huh?

My smile dropped. My gaze slowly moved from Marcus to the supposed Mr Kstervenchi.

"It is nice to meet you properly, Miss Marlowe."

Oh, fuck.

As if pushing him out of his own elevator wasn't enough, I'd just smacked his arm, complained about him making me late for his own interview, then offered to buy him drinks.

Just what the bloody hell have you done, Amy?