CHAPTER 4

Valentine

It's been exactly three weeks since I woke up to an empty bed after spending the most intense night with the most interesting woman I've ever met.

Even though I had a pile of documents in front of me, she was all I could think about. I’ve handled billion-dollar mergers that required less mental real estate than the memory of the lady I met at the gala arched under me, her voice breathy and desperate in my ear.

I had hoped we would spend the entire weekend together, but she disappeared, vanishing like a ghost before the sun had even fully cleared the horizon.

The only thing that kept me from sending my people to find her was the fact that the company's card I’d left on the bedside table was gone, too. I smiled, tracing the rim of my coffee cup, knowing she would call. I already knew everything that could be verified on paper. What couldn't be investigated was her intention, and I preferred to let people reveal that themselves.

Three weeks without a call. That wasn't normal. Either she was disciplined... or she was planning something.

Every woman who crossed my path lately felt like a cardboard cutout compared to the fire she brought into that hotel suite. Her sharp corporate intelligence and that breathtaking defiance at the gala had ruined my taste for any other woman.

Of course, I had my analysts verify the trade data afterward. I needed to know whether I had been impressed by genuine brilliance or a lucky guess. It turned out to be neither luck nor coincidence.

​Finding her has to be my number one priority.

I'm usually so disciplined about who I sleep with, which makes the fact that I broke my own rule with her feel surreal... and reckless. A man in my position can't afford an unvetted hookup and a single allegation could ruin the Gaston empire before my PR team could even react. And when elites make mistakes like this, you control the narrative.

As I stared at the windows, a deep truth seeped in—she was becoming an unacceptable distraction.

But then, the intercom on my desk buzzed, breaking my trance.

"Mr. Gaston," my secretary’s voice came through, hesitant. "There is a woman here to see you. She doesn't have a prior appointment, but she’s insisting. She says you recognise her as Clary and her legal maiden name is Clarissa Bright and—"

"Send her in," I interrupted. I didn't even let her finish. I already knew exactly who was on the other side of that door.

The doors to my office swung open moments later. Clarissa appeared, and for a second, the air seemed to leave the room. She looked incredibly beautiful, dressed in a tailored white dress that hugged her hips and suggested the soft skin beneath that I still remembered with vivid, dirty clarity. She looked elegant, inviting, and too composed for a woman who had bypassed my own rules.

As she walked toward me, my mind betrayed me, flashing back to the way her hair looked spread across my pillows. I wanted to see that pretty smile plastered on her face while I pinned her to this desk.

Damn! The look in her eyes was that of a woman with a goal.

I’d met countless women after my ex-wife ran away, each one more transparent than the last. They were all after the Gaston wealth, the power, the name.

But this woman... Even though I knew she wanted something from me too, there was a purpose behind her gaze that felt different.

I leaned back in my chair, smirking as she took a seat opposite me. She crossed her legs, and I followed the movement with a hunger I didn't bother to hide.

"You know," I started, my voice low. "Most people would consider it rude to devour a man all night and then dump him before the coffee is even brewed. Especially a married woman."

Clarissa let out a soft, melodic laugh that sent a jolt straight to my spine. "I know you're a very important figure, Mr. Gaston. I didn't want a scandal on your hands. Leaving quietly seemed like the most professional thing to do."

"I appreciate you being so considerate of my reputation," I said, though we both knew "professional" was the last thing we had been that night. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this unscheduled visit? Did you just decide you missed the view from the penthouse?"

She didn't answer with words. Instead, she reached into her designer bag and pulled out a plain envelope, sliding it across the desk toward me.

I picked it up, my eyes never leaving hers. I tore it open. Inside was a lab report. My eyes scanned the medical jargon until they hit the bottom line.

*Positive.*

That one word hooked me. Caution flew right out the window. A child carrying the Gaston bloodline—and it belonged to the only woman who had managed to break my icy control.

For three years, my extended greedy family and the company board have been waiting for me to fail. They believed the Gaston empire needed a different kind of future—one tied to blood, legacy, and succession.

But my blood child changes everything. It gives the Gaston empire the one thing my rivals have always claimed it lacked—a true successor. Once that child carries my name, no one will have the power to threaten what I built.

For now, I don't care what game or hidden agenda she was playing but I would find out soon enough. I now had a good reason to keep her under my name, because an unclaimed pregnancy was a liability I had no intention of leaving in someone else's hands.

"It’s been three weeks, Clarissa," I said, setting the paper down. My heart was thudding with a sudden, violent rhythm. "How am I sure it's mine? It was just a one-night stand, and you seem like a woman who knows exactly how to get what she wants."

She didn't flinch at the accusation. "We can have a DNA test later, if that makes you feel more secure. But we both know the timing is perfect."

I looked at her, searching for a lie, but all I saw was a fierce determination. I smiled. A biological heir. The future of the Gaston name. The one thing my empire and personal life was missing.

"Well, that is not a problem. But what do you want to do? Since you said 'later,' it means you're planning to keep it."

"Well, it all depends on you," she said firmly.

I wasn't going to believe her very quickly so I told my secretary to verify her hospital visit.

After my secretary confirmed her pregnancy through the lab authentication, I still couldn't trust her yet.

I looked at her and said, "Fine. We'll perform prenatal DNA testing when it's medically safe.”

She nodded in agreement.

​“Can you sign a one-year marriage contract with me, Miss Bright?" I proposed after a brief moment.

“Of course, Mr. Gaston,” she replied without a second thought.

“Perfect.” I nodded, satisfied with her lack of hesitation.

She added, “But on one condition. No sex, no love, no feelings. I also want separate bedrooms and a private life.”

“No sex? After what happened three weeks ago?” I raised a brow. “You're making difficult demands.”

“One night doesn't buy permanent access, Mr. Gaston.”

A slow smile spread across my lips.

“Very well. I totally agree with that. Separate bedrooms—for now but we live under the same roof.”

She nodded slightly.

I pressed the intercom, instructing my secretary to bring in the necessary paperwork.

A few minutes later, she walked in and set a thick file on my desk—a contract. I slid it over to Clarissa, watching her expression turn serious as she opened it and began to read. Her eyebrows rose as I moved through the clauses. I had thought of everything—confidentiality, assets, living arrangements. But what struck her most was how much I was giving up.

​"Why are you going to such lengths? What's the catch?”

"This isn't about love. It's just to be on a safer side," I said evenly. "You're carrying my heir, and an unprotected pregnancy is a liability I have no intention of leaving. Everything here is largely in your favor. If we divorce, you'll have full custody of the child. I don't care about financial settlements. I only care about my heir.”

“Can we just say I want to find my ground again?” She leaned forward, her expression turning serious. ​"I’ve spent too long being a shadow, and you, Mr. Gaston, are the only way I can step back into the light. If you take over my twin sister’s medical bills, the exact models that saved you will be yours to scale. You get an heir and a massive market advantage; I get the protection of your name while I settle my affairs."

​I didn't say a word. I just sat back, completely intrigued. She was using me as a shield, but at least she was being honest about it. She wasn't just offering me an heir; she was handing me the brain that had kept my portfolio from taking a multi-million dollar hit. People usually came into this office trying to play me or plead for favors, but she was different. She knew her worth, and she was smart at negotiating.

​Instead of answering, I leaned forward and tapped the signature line on the contract.

​Understanding the silent agreement, Clarissa picked up the pen and signed her name.

I didn't just want my heir protected ... .I wanted Clarissa where I could keep an eye on her.

"When is the date?" I asked as she slid the signed papers back to my secretary.

"This week, Friday," she said, her voice clipped and professional again.

"That's fine with me," I said, checking my calendar. "My daughter will be getting married on Saturday. Having our own business settled before the weekend's festivities would be ideal. I assume you want this to be in court?"

"Yes. A private civil ceremony?" Clarissa replied.

“Yeah, nothing loud.”

Clary shifted in her chair, preparing to leave.

"I’ll see you this weekend, Mrs. Gaston."

The title sounded unfamiliar even to me.

As if she had lost her words, she just nodded, her eyes wide and dark. She turned and left the office, her stride just a little less confident than when she’d entered. I watched her go, leaning against my desk with a satisfying grin on my face.