Clayton Grey left the restaurant early, as planned, to attend his fiancée's singing competition. What he didn't expect was the chaos waiting for him there.
The moment he walked in, he could sense the tension in the room. Everyone hated his fiancée and the judges' bias was so obvious it made his jaw tighten. He wanted to stand up, to call them out right there in front of everyone, but Miles, his ever-practical assistant, stopped him.
"Not here Mr Grey," Miles had whispered. "You don't want your name in this mess."
And Miles was right. Clayton didn't need bad press, especially not when his sudden interest in the new contestant, Maeve, had already raised eyebrows.
His family was already asking questions. Especially since Maeve had just recently divorced his nephew.
That stupid bastard!
He has no idea what masterpiece he was messing with.
Miles knew his boss too well. Clayton was fascinated by Maeve now, but he doubted it would last. Just like the other girls he had dated in the past. They were even more beautiful and hotter than Maeve.
There was nothing truly special about her, at least, not from a business point of view. Just a trail of scandals, emotional outbursts, and a reputation so damaged it would take a miracle to fix.
Still, Clayton couldn't look away. Something about her, her defiance, her fire, the way she refused to break even when the world turned on her, stirred something inside him. He has never been this impressed in a long time.
Miles sighed, already calculating damage control. His solution was as ruthless as it was clever, A contract marriage. Since his boss wanted to be stupid.
He would prepare the agreement and make sure she never goes away with his boss's money. He'll never allow that.
She might be compensated for her time but she's never taking anything else. Miles was so fond of women like her. Who wouldn't want to be with Clayton Grey?
"Give it a name that benefits both sides," Miles had said. "If it works out, fine. If not, you walk away clean."
It was cold logic, but that was Miles. To him, everything, even love, was a deal waiting to be signed.
Love was a myth when it came to his boss. Clayton Greg would sell his own lover if it meant sealing the next billion-dollar contract.
After the outbursts of humiliation and attacks, Clayton had demanded to see his fiancée. The one who had boldly proposed to him before the entire world.
The woman who shouldn't have mattered, yet somehow did. But he heard Maeve had locked herself in a room.
Miles said she was too scared of stepping out because of the humiliation so he waited.
He didn't care if it would take all night for her to come out because this night was either going to end with him seeing her or end badly for everyone who got in his way again.
And when she finally appeared, she was being pelted with rotten tomatoes.
Rotten tomatoes?!
They were being thrown at her by foolish ingrates! Just how much did they pay these fools to mess with HIS?
He moved behind her with his guards then it hit him.
His multi-million-dollar, customized Berluti shoes, crafted from black crocodile leather and diamonds, are one of a kind, made only for him. The only pair in the world was now stained with rotten tomatoes.
The air went still.
How dare they?
If there's one thing Miles knew about his boss was that he was a clean freak. He hated dirt more than anything and he never played with his shoe collections.
"M... Mr Clayton Grey!" One person amongst the mob screamed as she recognized him immediately, and everyone followed too.
For a man that was barely been seen in public places or even in private events, he was always in people's hearts.
Velmora's biggest treasure and every young girl's crush. To some ladies, they were already married secretly to Clayton Grey in their hearts.
What was he doing here? And why Maeve? Why was Clayton Greg with Maeve, especially after her little guts the other day on the news?
She had willingly asked him to marry her that day and his account agreed.
Are they already married?
Clayton ignored the screams, he ignored his beautiful damsel in distress staring at him like a ghost. She would have him for eternity if she wanted, but he would deal with the fools who hurt her first.
"How much are my shoes worth Miles?" He finally spoke, in a voice so everly calm and cold.
Though his emotions didn't show in his face or voice, his aura was enough to silence everyone around as they just stared.
Clayton Grey was a definition of power in a mortal body.
Miles quickly cleared his throat and responded. "20 million dollars Mr Grey."
Miles was right; when those shoes were unveiled, the world had gone insane. People had mocked the buyer for being wasteful, shallow. No one had known it was Clayton. No one knew the kind of man who'd pay any price, just to prove he was untouchable.
The price hadn't been up to 20 million, but Clayton Grey bought it for an even higher price.
Now the fool who dared soil them stood trembling before him.
Miles stepped forward, voice crisp. "You've damaged Mr. Grey's shoes. Time to pay up little girl." The girl trembled as well as the others and one by one they all started dropping their bags of rotten tomatoes.
They knew they were in deep trouble.
They were all surrounded by Clayton's bodyguards as they moved fast, blocking cameras and confiscating phones. The crowd had turned dead silent.
They had only meant to bully Maeve, they didn't know they would get into bigger trouble.
"Make sure every single one of them pays," Calyton Grey ordered. "My shoes don't touch filth for free."
Then, his eyes found her. Slow and deliberate. He took his time to stare at that beautiful face now coated with rotten tomatoes.
Maeve was still so shocked that her heart stopped beating for a while.
She stood there, dazed, tomato juice dripping down her arm, her breath coming fast. He knew she was beautiful, but he had no idea she looked this good closeup.
Clayton's gaze softened for the first time that night. Clayton took out his suit and wrapped it around her.
"Come with me Miss Davis," he murmured, his voice dropping low enough for only her to hear as he pulled her away.