12

Sloane’s POV

“Will you marry me?” The words struck my ears like a forbidden thing. I kept my eyes closed and pretended to sleep.

Marriage? When I had just walked out of one?

Absolutely not. A big No to that.

I was exhausted—heart, body, and soul drained to the bone. He said he wanted to help me. So why was he proposing marriage? Why?

Men would always be men. He knew I just signed divorce papers and he proposed marriage to me.

Very anyhow person.

“Sorry I said that…”he stopped talking, maybe after he saw that I was sleeping.

When the car finally stopped, I fluttered my lashes and acted as if I had just woken up. He helped me out of the car.

The sky was already dark, yet the lights from the mansion spilled across the entire compound, bright and unapologetic.

I rubbed my palms together, the night air hitting my body coldly.

“You're feeling cold?” He asked and I nodded.

He shrugged off his jacket and put it around my shoulders.

I wore it properly, myself.

“Like I said, you have to trust me,” he murmured. “I don’t live here with anyone at the moment.”

I'm not surprised, he looks like a loner.

I said nothing.

He was still a stranger, I felt I shouldn’t feel safe. But something in my chest whispered, “Trust him”, and I just wanted to listen to my heart.

We walked inside together. At the entrance he paused to enter the code.

“I’ve never told anyone my password,” he said quietly. “But I’ll tell you.”

I stared at him, uncertain what he was trying to prove. To impress me? Huh? It's working, I love when someone does something they don't do all because of me.

“I’m doing all of this because I want you to feel safe. Don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you.”

The promise in his voice says it all. I trusted him without fully understanding why.

“Thank you,” I whispered. Our gaze locked for God knows how long, before he looked away and pressed the numbers.

“030208.” The sequence burned itself into my memory.

As we walked inside together, my lips parted slightly. Oh my God.

The mansion was pure luxury—every tile, every surface speaking of wealth Kaelan could never match. Maxwell led me upstairs to a bedroom and left the door wide open. My pulse jumped the same way it once had in Kaelan’s room, but this time the fear eased when he didn’t close me in.

The room was beautiful and girlish—every thing in the room was soft pinks mixed with white, the exact aesthetic I had always dreamed of owning.

“I’ll have new clothes brought in by the maids tomorrow morning,” he said. “You can bathe now. Manage the bathrobe for tonight.”

I nodded mutely and watched him leave, the door still open.

I moved carefully to the closet and pulled it wide open.

The space alone could have been another room. Empty of clothes, but already filled with possibility. For a heartbeat I let myself imagine living here—living in the kind of comfort I had never known.

Footsteps sounded in the room and I stepped out quickly.

Maxwell stood there holding a tray. The scent of hamburger, chicken, and chips rose between us.

“Do you need anything?” he asked.

“No. I was… just about to shower.” My eyes stayed fixed on the food. My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.

He heard it. How embarrassing!

He set the tray on the bed.

“Eat. Shower. Sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Then he walked out.

Pride kept me standing for a few seconds while my mouth watered. Finally I crossed to the door, eased it shut with style, I don't know if he's watching me.

I sat beside the tray and began with the chicken, then the chips, then the burger. If it was poisoned, I would die easily.

“Thank you, Maxwell.” I wished I could say it aloud, but the words stayed trapped behind my teeth. I didn’t want him to think I was cheap.

He's already doing more than anyone who has known me for years, Maxwell just met me.

I had signed the divorce papers only hours ago. I should have felt something—grief, regret—but all I felt was relief.

Kaelan could have my sister for the rest of his miserable life and I felt a little bit of freedom from my parents.

Yeah a little bit, I don't know what Maxwell wants, so I guess I'm not totally free.

My gaze fixed back to the chicken.

When had I last eaten like this? Leftovers had been the rule for as long as I could remember.

I ate until I was full, set the empty tray on the side table, and collapsed onto the bed without even bathing.

Sleep claimed me almost at once.

Voices drifted in later.

“Sir, will she like something like this?”

“Let her wake up and decide. Bring more clothes and jewelry—everything I listed. Let her have it all.” That was Maxwell’s voice.

I stirred, stretched, and sat up.

Ugh, my head ached. I pressed my fingertips to my temples and slid off the bed.

“Good morning. How are you?” Maxwell stood near a clothes rack, a woman beside him.

“I’m fine. Did I sleep too late? I…”

“Go have your bath. We have something to discuss.” He cut me off carefully.

He wore a blue suit that made him look every bit the billionaire he was.

I nodded and hurried into the bathroom.

The bathroom alone was a statement of wealth, I'll exaggerate later.

When I was done, I chose a gown from the rack. The stylist helped with the rest. I didn’t bother checking my reflection.

“You look so beautiful, madame.” The stylist complimented.

“Thank you.” I smiled.

I stepped into the heels and walked downstairs to meet him.

Maxwell waited at the foot of the stairs, he walked me to the living room.

“Sit,” he said, gesturing to the sofa.

“Thank you, I really appreciate you for all you've done.” I said.

“What have I done?” He smirked.

Oh he has a lot more to do, really?

He sat across from me, on a big sofa, crossed his legs.

“What proposal do you have for me?” I asked, hoping it's not about marriage.

“I meant what I said last night that I will help you completely.” He said. “But I have one condition.”