An Unthinkable Proposal

Skylar

I sat at the grand piano in the restaurant, letting my fingers glide over the keys.

Playing the piano had always been my escape. No matter how chaotic life became, music was the one thing that remained constant. I played with my heart, allowing the notes to express what words never could.

As the last note faded, I exhaled softly and stood up, preparing to take a short break. But before I could step away, a waiter approached me, an eager smile on his face.

“Miss, there’s a gentleman who really admired your performance. He asked me to invite you over to his table.”

I blinked in surprise. “I appreciate the compliment, but I’m just here to play music. My job doesn’t include accompanying guests for dinner.”

The waiter hesitated, clearly flustered. “No, no! It’s not like that at all. He just wants to talk to you. I promise there’s no danger.”

I frowned. “I—”

“Please,” the waiter pleaded, lowering his voice. “He tipped me generously and asked me to bring you over. If I don’t at least try, I’ll feel like I didn’t do my job properly. Please, I have a family to feed and my wife just gave birth to a set of twins a few weeks ago.”

I sighed, glancing toward the direction the waiter had gestured. My eyes landed on a man sitting at a private table near the floor-to-ceiling windows.

And for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

The man was… stunning. Sharp features, a strong jawline, and piercing eyes. He radiated an effortless confidence, the kind that came from power, wealth, and a lifetime of getting exactly what he wanted.

I didn’t recognize him.

But something about him made me uneasy.

I should have walked away. I should have ignored the waiter’s plea. But instead, I found myself nodding. “Fine. Just for a moment.”

I made my way to the table, and when I finally reached him, the man lifted his gaze to me. His eyes were dark and unreadable.

At his signal, I hesitated for only a second before sitting down across from him.

He leaned back in his chair, watching me with a faint smile. And then, in a voice smooth and composed, he began to speak.

“Skylar McLair. Born August 15th. Likes classical music, particularly Chopin. Studied designing at Ivy League university. Plays the piano to support herself.”

I stiffened. My heart pounded against my ribs as he continued.

“Your father was a businessman that recently went bankrupt. Shortly after, he had an accident and has been hospitalized ever since. Your mother’s studio, once successful, is now struggling to stay afloat.”

My fingers curled into fists beneath the table. Who was the man?! And how did he have all my information?

“Have you finished?” I forced my voice to remain steady.

He tilted his head slightly. “Not quite.”

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and muttered coldly. “What else do you know since you seem to have my biography at the back of your hands.”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied me, as if waiting to see how I would react.

Finally, he said, “Your father’s debts. His company’s collapse. The people who turned their backs on you. You’ve had a rough time.”

I felt my face burn with humiliation. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way he said them. As if my life was nothing more than a list of unfortunate things.

I clenched my jaw. “Are you one of my father’s creditors? Did you come here to humiliate me?”

He shook his head. “No. I came here to offer you a deal.”

“A deal?”

It was then that I realized I didn’t even know his name. “Who are-”

Before I could ask, he leaned forward slightly, his presence somehow becoming even more imposing. “Cole Buckman.”

The name immediately sent a jolt through me.

Buckman. As in the Buckman family. As in one of the most powerful business empires in the country.

I tried to mask my shock, but I knew he saw it. My gaze flickered to his attire—there were no visible designer logos, but the tailoring of his suit, the fabric, the subtle but unmistakable luxury of it all—it screamed nothing but wealth. And then there was his limited edition watch.

That watch could buy an entire company.

Even before my family’s bankruptcy, we've never had this kind of wealth.

But what could someone like him possibly want from me?

“What kind of deal?” I asked warily.

He didn’t hesitate. “I want you to be with me. To live with me.”

I froze. Was he nuts or something?

I shoved my chair back angrily. “If you’re asking me to be your mistress, you’re out of your mind.”

Cole chuckled, as if he had expected that reaction. “You really don’t hold back, do you?”

I glared at him. “Do you know what happened to the last man who made a request like that?”

He nodded, smiling. “You threw coffee all over him.”

My stomach twisted. How the hell did he know? He must be a creep or something.

“You’ve been following me?”

“No,” he said easily. “I just happened to be there.”

I wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse, but I had no interest in continuing this conversation. Whatever he wanted, I wanted no part of it. I stood up.

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but—”

“Don’t you want revenge?”

His words stopped me cold.

“On those who bullied and abandoned you?” he continued. “On those who wrongly accused your father, messed up with her mother's mental health and ruined your family?”

My throat tightened, a lump forming as his words struck deep. He had hit exactly where it hurt the most. I wanted nothing more than to restore my family's name and dignity back and have my loving parents in my arms, hale, hearty and happy.

But despite longing for all these, I still refused. “Even if I wanted revenge, I wouldn’t do it by becoming someone’s mistress.”

Cole’s eyes darkened slightly. “Who said anything about being a mistress?”

I frowned. What then had he meant?

“We’ll get married.”

My breath hitched.

Married?

He leaned back in his chair, as if the proposal was the most natural thing in the world. “It will only be for a set period of time. I’ll cover your father’s medical expenses. Your mother’s studio won’t be touched. And when our contract ends, you’ll be free. You won’t have to work anymore, and you can pursue your dream of becoming a jewelry designer.”

I stared at him, my mind struggling to process what he was saying.

It was insane. Completely insane.

A long silence stretched between us before I finally found my voice. “And what do you get out of all this?”

For the first time, Cole’s expression softened—just slightly. “My family has a rule. Only a married man can become the heir. I need a wife. You need stability. It’s simple.”

Simple?

Nothing about this was simple.

I still didn’t understand why he had chosen me.

Cole seemed to read my thoughts. “You’re more important than you think, Skylar.”

I felt like the ground had been pulled from beneath me.

I didn’t know whether I could trust him.

Once again, he seemed to sense my hesitation. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a business card, and slid it across the table.

“You have 24 hours,” he said. “If you’re not interested, we can pretend this conversation never happened.”

With that, he stood, gave me one last unreadable look, and walked away.

I sat there, staring at the card, my pulse racing.

This was beyond anything I had ever imagined.

And for the first time in a long time, I had no idea what to do.