His Terms

Aziza waited for him to laugh.

Daniel waited for her answer.

The monitor beside the bed continued its steady beeping, making the silence between them even more uncomfortable.

“No,” she said.

He leaned back in his chair.

“You could think about it.”

“I did. No.”

“For half a second.”

“It was enough.”

He picked up his coffee, discovered it was empty and set it down again.

Aziza watched him. He appeared perfectly serious. That was the worst part.

“You don’t know me,” she said.

“You keep telling me that.”

“Because you keep making decisions that suggest you’ve forgotten.”

“I know enough to make an offer.”

“Based on what? The shooting? Your doctor should check you for a head injury.”

His gaze flicked to the dressing near his temple.

“He already did.”

“Ask him to check again.”

This time Daniel smiled.

Aziza found it deeply inconvenient that she noticed.

“You came to me for an alliance,” he said.

“Between companies.”

“Companies change owners. Agreements end.”

“So do marriages.”

“Some.”

She disliked the confidence in that single word.

“Daniel, I offered you access to a distribution network. You’ve somehow turned that into a conversation about a wedding.”

“You offered me more than access to a company.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You knew about a meeting my enemies weren’t supposed to know existed. You walked into my casino carrying a weapon, helped get my guests out and saved my life. That tells me more than your company records will.”

“Then employ me. Apparently, your security department has vacancies.”

His expression changed.

Aziza regretted the words immediately.

“That was unfair,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

He looked down at his hands.

“Yes. It was.”

For a moment, the argument stopped being entertaining.

She remembered the men who had died. The people still waiting for news. Whatever else Daniel was, he knew their names.

“I’m not trying to dismiss what happened,” she said.

“Neither am I.”

He met her eyes again.

“I’ve spent years listening to people tell me what they would do for this family. Last night, you acted. I’m offering you a place in it.”

She hadn’t prepared for that answer.

A practical argument she could have dismantled. This sounded dangerously close to gratitude, mixed with something he hadn’t thought through nearly enough.

“You don’t have to marry someone because she helped you.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Aziza.”

“It’s a reasonable question.”

He looked towards the window, then back at her.

“My household needs a Donna. Someone who understands what standing beside me involves. Someone who won’t panic when things go wrong.”

“Most women would prefer things not to go wrong quite so often.”

“So would I.”

The answer was quiet enough to stop her.

He looked tired again. Not merely short of sleep. Tired of something he had been carrying long before she walked down those casino stairs.

For a moment, she could see why the others loved him.

She looked away first.

That was not useful information.

“A wife can’t fix your business,” she said.

“You’ve spent this entire conversation explaining how you can.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. I’m saying I want both.”

Her phone vibrated against the sheet.

She glanced down.

Rebecca.

Tell me he’s left so I can come in.

Aziza turned the screen towards herself.

Not yet.

“Your friend?” Daniel asked.

“Yes.”

“She can visit.”

Aziza looked up.

“Can she?”

“You’re a patient, not a prisoner.”

“Good. We agree on something.”

He stood and moved his chair away from the bed.

“Let her come. Get some rest. We can talk later.”

She should have let him leave.

Instead, she said, “Will you still consider the business proposal if I refuse?”

He stopped beside the chair.

“I’m not offering you two separate agreements.”

There it was.

“Then you’re asking me to marry you before you’ll listen to a sensible business opportunity.”

“I listened. I’m interested in building something that lasts longer than a temporary arrangement.”

Temporary.

He had no idea how accurately he had described her intentions.

Aziza shifted against the pillows and felt the answering pull in her shoulder. She was tired. More tired than she wanted him to see, and certainly too tired for a negotiation she hadn’t expected to have.

“And if I say no?”

“Then you say no.”

“And leave.”

“When the doctor clears you. Until then, you’re safe here.”

She studied him.

He meant it.

That should have made the decision easier.

Instead, she was left with the part he couldn’t possibly understand: she could refuse the marriage, but she could not walk away from the assignment.

Her grandfather had trusted her to bring three families through the transition. Two were already moving towards a future they might survive. If Daniel refused, their shared interests and old obligations would keep pulling them back into his world.

She needed his cooperation.

She did not need to become his wife.

There had to be another way.

A knock sounded at the door.

Lilian stepped in, carrying Aziza’s clear belongings bag.

“Everything we recovered,” she said. “Except the weapons.”

“I assumed you’d keep those.”

“For now.”

Their eyes met.

Lilian wasn’t smiling, but there was something different in her manner. Less suspicion than before. Not trust, exactly.

Perhaps professional curiosity.

She placed the bag beside the bed.

“How’s the shoulder?”

“I’d like a replacement.”

“I’ll mention it to the doctor.”

Daniel glanced towards the corridor.

“Mathew?”

“Downstairs. He’s dealing with the casino calls.”

“I’ll join him.”

Aziza’s phone vibrated again.

This time it was a call.

Rebecca.

She answered as Daniel reached the door.

“You can come—”

“Don’t let him leave.”

Aziza went still.

Rebecca’s voice had lost every trace of impatience.

“What happened?”

“Two men came in through the reception area. We’re checking who they are, but something’s wrong.”

Aziza looked towards Lilian.

“Your people?”

Lilian frowned.

Daniel stopped with his hand on the door.

“What?”

“Are you expecting anyone?” Aziza asked.

He looked at Lilian.

She shook her head and reached for her phone.

“They’re moving,” Rebecca said.

Aziza sat up too quickly.

Pain pulled across her shoulder. She pressed her lips together and waited for it to settle.

“Stay there,” Daniel told her.

Lilian spoke into her phone, listened, then looked at him.

Whatever she had heard was enough.

He moved away from the doorway.

“Get Mathew back up here.”

Lilian was already making the call.

Aziza heard a shout outside.

Then a sharp crack.

Not from the phone.

From the corridor.

Her hand tightened around the receiver.

“We’re coming,” Rebecca said.

“No.”

Daniel looked at her.

She couldn’t explain. Not with him standing there.

If her grandfather’s people arrived in force, there would be no preserving the story she had built. No explaining why an abandoned daughter of Trade Inc. could summon protection that made Daniel’s security look modest.

Her grandfather would end the assignment himself.

And the marriage proposal would be the least of her problems.

“Give me a moment,” she said into the phone.

“Aziza—”

She ended the call.

Lilian had moved beside the door. Daniel drew his weapon.

Aziza looked at her belongings bag.

Lipstick. Earrings. A bracelet.

She had never missed a gun so much in her life.

“Can you stand?” Daniel asked.

“Probably.”

“That isn’t convincing.”

“You picked a poor time to assess me.”

He came to the bed and helped her move her legs over the side. The room shifted unpleasantly. She closed her eyes, furious with herself.

“Wait,” he said.

His hand was steady at her back.

She counted a few breaths before opening her eyes again.

Lilian glanced at them.

“Mathew’s coming. We need to keep away from the door.”

Another sound came from the corridor. A man called Daniel’s name.

He didn’t answer.

Aziza recognised the voice.

Not the man’s name. Not his face.

His voice.

She had heard it on a recording Rebecca had found while assembling the Trade Inc. cover. He had been discussing the family’s deaths as though arranging the removal of old office furniture.

They hadn’t come only for Daniel.

They believed she was the daughter who had survived.

“They’re looking for me,” she said.

Daniel’s hand paused against her back.

“Who?”

“The people who killed my father’s family.”

He looked at her for a moment.

Then he shifted his grip, helping her stand.

“Then they can keep looking.”

She caught his sleeve as her knees threatened to give way.

For all the training her grandfather had insisted on, none of it made her body immune to blood loss or pain. She couldn’t even cross the room without help.

Daniel steadied her without comment.

That was what decided it.

Not his name. Not the protection he offered.

The realisation that, for the moment, she needed someone—and he was already there.

“The marriage,” she said.

His eyes met hers.

Outside, someone struck the door.

“What about it?”

“I’ll agree. But we discuss the terms.”

“We will.”

“All of them, Daniel.”

He nodded once.

Lilian looked from one to the other.

“Could you two finish getting engaged somewhere they aren’t shooting at us?”