Chapter 8: The Engagement Bombshell

The third-floor hallway of the nursing building was absolute chaos, as usual.

It was Monday morning. Students rushed in every direction, heavy backpacks swinging, voices overlapping into one giant, panic-induced wall of noise that I had learned to tune out years ago. The smell of cheap vending-machine coffee and sterile floor cleaner hung heavily in the air.

I ducked under a stressed-out student's elbow and made it to my dented metal locker, spinning the combination with practiced ease.

"Grace!"

I didn't even need to turn around.

"Morning, Mia."

Mia Chen appeared beside me like she had been physically teleported through the floorboards. Her dark hair was bouncing in a high ponytail, her bright purple scrubs were somehow perfectly unwrinkled, and her eyes were wide with the kind of chaotic energy that should have been illegal before 8:00 AM.

"You will not believe what happened last night," Mia announced, leaning against the locker next to mine with her arms crossed and a wicked smirk on her face.

I pulled out my massive, back-breaking Pediatric Nursing textbook. "Did you finally finish that true-crime N*****x series?"

"Better."

"Worse?"

"Much worse. I got a text from Jason."

I paused, halfway through shoving my messy notes into my bag. "Jason? The guy who ghosted you for three weeks because he said his thumb was 'sprained' and he couldn't type?"

"The very same." Mia’s grin widened triumphantly. "He sent me a massive paragraph at two in the morning. He apologized, told me he missed my, and asked if we could 'talk things over.'"

I closed my locker with a soft thud, turning to her. "And you said?"

"What do you think I said?" Mia flipped her ponytail over her shoulder with aggressive flair. "I left him on read."

I couldn't help but laugh, the stressful weight of the weekend lifting just a tiny fraction. "Queen behavior."

"Thank you, thank you," she bowed dramatically, as if accepting an Oscar. "But enough about my dating disasters. Let's talk about you. I couldn't visit the VIP wing yesterday. How is your dad? Is he recovering from the surgery?"

"He's doing amazing," I smiled, a profound, heavy relief washing over me. "The bypass was a complete success. He was actually joking with the nurses this morning."

"Thank God," Mia exhaled, placing a hand over her heart. "And... what about the General? Gracie, the man literally parted the Red Sea in the emergency room.

My smile faded. I slumped back against the cold metal of my locker, hugging my heavy textbook to my chest like a shield.

"Mia," I whispered, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "I'm marrying him."

Mia's eyes went comically wide. Her jaw actually unhinged. "You're... what?!"

"I agreed to marry him."

"You? Married?! To General Alexander Reeves?!" she shrieked, entirely ignoring my request for stealth.

"Please stop saying his name so loud," I groaned, burying my burning face in my hands. "You're making my stomach hurt."

Mia grabbed both of my shoulders, shaking me slightly. "Grace, are you insane?! How did we go from a date on Saturday to a marriage on Tuesday?!"

"It’s a contract," I explained miserably, sliding down the front of the lockers until I was sitting flat on the cold floor.

Mia immediately dropped down onto the floor beside me, crossing her legs, completely unbothered by the dozens of nursing students stepping over us. "Explain. Now."

"When you stepped away in the ER... he offered me a deal," I whispered. "His grandmother, Eleanor, has fragile health. Her dying wish is to see him settled, and she won't rest until he has a wife. But she believes in love, so we have to pretend it's real."

"And in return?" Mia asked, her dark eyes narrowing like a detective.

"In return, I fall under his absolute protection. My dad won't have to worry about me being alone when he's gone. That peace of mind... Mia, it's the only thing that will keep his heart strong."

Mia stared at me for a long, heavy moment. "Grace... that's not just some random military guy. That's the General. Have you seen him in uniform on the news?!"

"That's exactly what terrifies me!" I groaned, resting the back of my head against the locker. "Mia, the man doesn't look like a human being. He looks like a weapon. He looks like he could order someone's execution and then go have a casual lunch!"

"Okay, but have you considered that the media exaggerates?" Mia offered.

"Exaggerates?!" I raised an incredulous eyebrow at her. "Mia, last month he gave a press conference. A reporter asked him a stupid question, and Alexander just stared at him. He didn't even speak, and the journalist literally apologized for breathing too loudly and sat back down!"

"That was about national security!" Mia defended, suppressing a laugh.

"And I'm worried about my *personal* security!" I stressed. "I can barely keep my own houseplants alive, and now I have to go live in a heavily fortified military estate with a dominant, uncompromising warlord?"

Mia nudged my shoulder gently. The teasing glint completely vanished from her eyes, replaced by a fierce, loyal seriousness.

"Gracie, listen to me," she said quietly. "He is terrifying, yes. But did you see the way he looked at you in the hospital? He didn't yell. He gave you his handkerchief. He stepped up and comforted you"

I swallowed the heavy lump in my throat, staring down at my shoes. "I know."

"He is a weapon," Mia agreed softly. "But he is going to be *your* weapon. No one is ever going to hurt you or your dad again."

The busy hallway suddenly felt too bright, too loud. Students pushed past us, completely unaware of the massive, life-altering reality settling directly onto my chest.

Mia was right. He was terrifying, but he was offering me a fortress.

"Yeah," I whispered, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. "I know."

*Bzzzz. Bzzzz.*

My phone vibrated violently inside my scrub pocket.

I pulled it out, swiping open the screen. It wasn't a text from my dad. It was from an unknown, highly encrypted number.

**A car will collect you tomorrow for our private contract negotiation.**

**Do not be late.**

**- Alexander.**

I stared at the glowing screen, my pulse immediately kicking into a frantic, terrified rhythm.

I groaned, dropping my forehead heavily against Mia's shoulder.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I have to go negotiate the rules of the marriage with him tomorrow," I mumbled into her scrubs. "Alone."

"Oh, honey," Mia patted my back sympathetically. "May the odds be ever in your favor."