(Lilian's POV)
I didn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, his voice replayed like a curse I couldn't shake off.
"Marry me, Miss Blake. Or pay your father's debt in forty-eight hours."
Those words had been echoing for two days. They followed me through every breath, every heartbeat, every quiet moment when I tried to convince myself it was just a nightmare. But nightmares end when you wake up. This one didn't.
Sunday evening
By the time the sun began to sink behind the city, the apartment had fallen into that strange stillness. I sat by the window, chin propped on my knees, watching cars move below like tiny streaks of light.
My phone sat beside me, silent, cold, heavy with unread messages from the finance department. I couldn't open them. Why should I?
The kitchen clock ticked louder than usual. The fridge hummed. The smell of cold coffee filled the air. The coffee I had made about an hour ago but kept on staring out the window until it became cold.
I was starting to hate silence. It left too much room for thought.
That's when I heard her voice.
"What's wrong, Lilybug?"
I turned. Mom stood in the doorway of our small living room, wearing her old wool cardigan and holding a mug of tea. Her eyes were tired but warm, the kind that could still find softness in the worst days.
She only called me Lilybug when she was worried or when she wanted me to smile.
"Nothing," I said automatically.
She smiled faintly. "You've been staring out that window for an hour. Don't tell me it's 'nothing.'"
I looked back at the glass, at my faint reflection in it. My eyes were red and had those little veins. "It's just… work. I messed something up."
She walked closer, sitting beside me on the couch. Her knees brushed mine. "Everyone makes mistakes. You're too hard on yourself."
"This one's different."
Her brows furrowed. "How different?"
I took a shaky breath. "It's about Dad."
The mug in her hand stilled. "Go on."
So I told her everything. About spilling coffee on the CEO's files, about how he'd called me into his office, about how I'd thought I'd be fired and instead walked out with a deal that didn't sound real.
By the time I was done, Mom's hand covered her mouth. Her eyes shimmered. "He… he offered what?"
"A marriage," I whispered. "For a year. In exchange for clearing the debt."
Her voice trembled. "Oh, Lilybug…"
"I didn't say yes," I rushed to add. "Not yet. He gave me forty-eight hours."
"Forty-eight hours to decide your life?" she said softly, disbelief and sorrow lacing her words. "That's not a decision. That's pressure."
I swallowed. "I know."
She reached for my hands. "You can't do this, sweetheart. Not like this."
Tears pricked at my eyes. "What choice do I have? The bank keeps calling. They'll take the house, Mom. They'll take everything."
"I don't care about the house," she said fiercely. "You think I raised you so you could throw your happiness away for bricks and walls?"
I shook my head, crying now. "It's not about happiness. It's about surviving."
Her lips trembled. She looked away, blinking fast. "I should've worked more. Saved more. I should've protected you from all this."
"Stop," I said, gripping her hand tighter. "You did everything for me. Everything."
For a while, neither of us spoke. The rain finally began to fall, soft against the window, filling the silence with its rhythm.
Then she whispered, "If you really think this is the only way… promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Don't lose yourself in it. No matter what he says, no matter how he treats you, don't let him take the part of you that still laughs; that still dreams."
My throat ached. "I promise."
She leaned over and kissed my forehead. "That's my Lilybug."
Later that night, I sat alone in the dark living room. Mom had gone to bed. The rain had stopped, but the world outside still felt heavy.
The clock ticked past midnight. Forty-eight hours almost gone.
I took out the contract folder I'd brought home and opened it under the lamplight. My name. His name. The black ink between us felt colder than anything I'd ever seen.
I traced my fingers over the paper, whispering to no one, "Who even does this?"
A part of me wanted to tear it apart. Another part, the desperate, scared part knew I couldn't.
Because sometimes survival doesn't look noble. It just looks necessary.
Monday morning
The city looked normal, but everything inside me wasn't.
The bus ride to work was a blur of faces and noise. A child laughed somewhere near the back, and for a second I wondered when I'd last laughed like that. Life had a way of taking things like that away.
When I stepped into Reed Tower, the lobby's floors reflected the cold light of the morning. People moved fast, sharp, focused. Like the world belonged to them.
It didn't belong to me. Not anymore.
By ten o'clock, an email popped up on my screen:
Meeting at 11 a.m. – CEO's Office.
The forty-eight hours were over.
He was already there when I entered.
Jacket off. Tie loose. The same kind of control that made the air heavier just from him breathing in it.
"Miss Blake," he said without looking up.
I stood still until he finally raised his eyes.
"Sit."
I did.
He folded his hands on the desk. "You've had time to think."
"Yes."
"And?"
"I can't pay the debt."
"I know." His tone didn't change. "So?"
"I'll do it," I whispered.
"You'll marry me."
It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
He leaned forward. "Understand something, Miss Blake. This isn't romance. It's an agreement, business. There will be conditions."
"I understand."
"You'll move into my house today. My lawyer will finalize the paperwork by evening. You'll sign before the day ends."
"So soon?"
He looked at me like I'd asked something foolish. "You had your forty-eight hours. Now it's my turn."
My fingers twisted in my lap. "Okay."
He studied me for a long moment. "You look terrified."
"I am."
"Good. Fear makes people careful."
He stood, slid a folder toward me. "Read it carefully. Once you sign, there's no unsigning."
I took it with shaking hands.
"You'll have until five," he said. "After that, the offer disappears."
The door closed softly behind me, but it felt like the echo followed me down the entire hallway.
Back at my desk, everything looked the same; the hum of computers, the muted clatter of keyboards, the smell of fresh paper and cheap coffee. No one knew that my life had just split in two inside that office.
Emails blinked across my screen. Numbers. Reports. Deadlines. I stared at them, pretending to work, pretending to breathe normally.
"Hey, Lily," Emma whispered. "You okay? You look… pale."
I forced a smile. "Just tired."
She didn't look convinced. "You've been zoning out since morning. Come on, tell me what's up. I won't tell anyone."
I wanted to, I really did. But the weight of the decision in my bag, the contract, my entire life felt too heavy to share. I shook my head. "Nothing. Just a lot of work."
Emma frowned but didn't press. She always had her way of respecting my space "Okay, fine. But if you need me… I'm here, Lily."
By noon, I'd corrected three files, double-checked two reports, and still hadn't absorbed a single thing I'd read. My fingers moved on autopilot while my mind replayed his voice again and again.
Marry me or pay in forty-eight hours.
At lunch, I sat alone, staring at the steam rising from my coffee cup. Around me, people laughed, swapped gossip, and complained about spreadsheets. It was strange how normal life continued, even when yours was quietly falling apart.
By three, I'd made my decision.
I gathered my things, straightened my blazer, and took one last look at the folder sitting in my bag.
Five o'clock was coming.
And this time, it wasn't just another deadline.
Back home, Mom had already left for her volunteer shift. The quiet pressed against me.
I made tea just to have something to hold. Sat by the same window, watching the same sky.
The contract lay open on the coffee table.
Each page blurred, my tears dripping onto the corner of the paper.
I thought of Mom calling me Lilybug. I thought of her voice when she said don't lose yourself.
I thought of how she'd still smile for me even if the world crumbled around us.
When the clock struck five, my pen hovered over the line.
My hand trembled.
Then I signed.
And just like that, I stopped being just Lilian Blake.
I became Mrs. Grayson Reed.