Summer had settled heavily over Veridia. Even after midnight, the heat lingered in the air, and mosquitoes buzzed relentlessly outside the cracked window.

Cecelia Archer was asleep in the small storage room she shared with her daughter. She had only just drifted off when a frightened voice shattered the silence.

"My ears hurt..."

"Mommy... she's pinching my ears..."

"No... I'm not a burden..."

Cecelia's eyes flew open. For a moment, she lay frozen in the darkness. Then she turned toward the tiny figure curled up beside her.

Candy was still asleep.

The little girl tossed restlessly beneath the thin blanket, her brows knitted together as tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.

Cecelia's chest tightened painfully.

Ever since her promotion, work had become overwhelming. Most days, she left Candy in her sister-in-law's care while she worked overtime.

She had trusted her family.

Never—not once—had she imagined her daughter was being treated this way behind her back.

The child was having nightmares about it.

How much had Candy endured without telling her?

A wave of guilt crashed over Cecelia. She gently brushed a hand across her daughter's damp forehead, fighting back the anger rising inside her. Before she could calm herself, raised voices erupted from the room next door.

"I already worked everything out with the neighbor! Once your sister marries him, she'll move straight into his house!"

"He's over fifty! He already has grandchildren! How can you force her into something like this?"

"So what?" Her sister-in-law's voice grew sharper. "She had a child out of wedlock. What respectable man would want her? He's offering thirty thousand dollars for the marriage. At this point, she should be grateful."

Cecelia's fingers tightened around the blanket.

Thirty thousand dollars.

For the past three years, she'd been the one paying most of the household bills.

The mortgage.

The groceries.

The utilities.

Yet somehow she had become a burden.

For one reckless moment, she wanted to storm into the room and throw every bank statement she had in her sister-in-law's face. But she forced herself to stay still.

Her brother had suffered enough. After his accident left him permanently injured, it hadn't been easy for him to build a family. Cecelia had spent years helping him create a stable life.

She didn't want to destroy that.

But tonight made one thing painfully clear.

She couldn't stay here anymore.

As long as she remained unmarried, her sister-in-law would never stop trying to get rid of her.

One option remained.

A marriage of convenience.

The idea had barely formed before a face appeared in her mind. Without hesitation, she grabbed her phone and opened an old contact. The conversation hadn't been touched in four years.

Her fingers hovered over the screen.

Then she typed.

You once told me I could ask you for anything. Does that offer still stand?

The reply came less than five minutes later.

Yes.

Just one word.

Simple. Direct.

Exactly as she remembered.

Cecelia stared at the message for several seconds before taking a breath and typing:

Then marry me.

The following morning, Cecelia stood outside the courthouse clutching her purse. She checked the time for what felt like the hundredth time.

8:29 a.m.

A taxi pulled up to the curb. The rear door opened.

A man stepped out.

Cecelia blinked.

Four years had done nothing to diminish him. If anything, he'd become even more striking. He stood well over six feet tall, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that emphasized broad shoulders and long legs. His features were sharp and handsome, his expression calm and unreadable.

People glanced at him instinctively as he crossed the plaza. Some openly stared. Others looked twice after noticing the Club DL identification badge attached to his jacket. Admiration quickly turned to disdain.

Cecelia, however, felt only relief.

Good. He was still working there. That meant he was dependable. A promise made four years ago hadn't been forgotten.

She hurried forward.

"Sorry for dragging you out so early." She offered a smile. "Did you just get off work?"

Damien Vaughn raised an eyebrow. 

Technically, she wasn't wrong. 

He had returned from a two-month overseas trip the previous night. Several friends had insisted on throwing him a welcome-home celebration, and the evening had ended at a club.

He hadn't slept.

His gaze settled on Cecelia.

Professional business attire. Minimal makeup. No flashy jewelry.

She looked like an ordinary working woman. Yet there was something quietly attractive about her. A warmth that softened the sharp edges of her appearance.

Four years ago, she'd saved his life. Today, she was finally asking for repayment.

And the thing she wanted was marriage.

Interesting.

He accepted her handshake. Her fingers were warm. 

"Are you certain about this?" he asked. His voice was low and steady. Unexpectedly pleasant.

Cecelia's cheeks warmed. She quickly looked away. "Don't worry. I won't take up much of your time." She opened her bag and pulled out a document. "I already prepared a prenup."

Damien glanced down. His expression remained neutral. "You did?"

"I signed it already," she laughed awkwardly. "You won't owe me anything. You won't have to support my daughter. Once I handle some legal matters and get settled, we'll get divorced." She paused. Then added apologetically, "I suppose I'm making you a divorced man before you've even had the chance to be a husband."

Damien looked at her.

Most people would have seized any opportunity to attach themselves to the Vaughn family. Yet here she was, preparing an exit strategy before the marriage had even begun.

What she didn't know was that the name appearing on today's paperwork wasn't actually Damien Vaughn's. If she had ulterior motives, they were doomed from the start.

"Let's go in," he said.

Half an hour later, they emerged from the courthouse.

Married.

Cecelia couldn't stop smiling. The relief on her face was impossible to miss. For the first time in years, she felt like she could breathe. Everything was finally going to change.

She would move out.

Find a place of her own.

Give Candy a real home.

A better life.

A happier childhood.

Turning toward Damien, she raised both hands. "Thank you. Seriously." Then she bowed slightly. "Sorry for dragging you into this." She took a few steps backward. "I'll contact you about the paperwork in a few days."

Another step.

"See you around!"

Before Damien could respond, she spun around and practically ran away.

He stared after her.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

Then she disappeared into the crowd.

Damien remained standing there, marriage certificate still in hand. His expression slowly darkened.

…

What just happened?

She really left.

Just like that.

No demands.

No flirting.

No attempts to get closer.

Nothing.

For the first time in years, Damien Vaughn found himself completely caught off guard.

An hour later, his assistant arrived to pick him up for a business conference. The moment he saw Damien's expression, he nearly had a heart attack.

The entire drive passed in silence.

A dangerous silence.

By the time they reached the venue, the assistant was mentally reviewing every possible mistake he'd made during the past six months.

Damien stepped out of the car. As he adjusted his cufflinks, a small voice suddenly called out.

"Sir, can you help me?"

He looked down.

A little girl stood nearby. She couldn't have been older than four. Two pigtails framed her tiny face. A white dress fluttered in the breeze. Shiny black shoes peeked out beneath the hem.

Her eyes were huge.

Dark. Round. Almost impossibly expressive.

Like a doll brought to life.

Damien stopped. Something unfamiliar stirred in his chest. He'd never particularly liked children. Never spent time around them. Yet for some reason, this little girl immediately drew his attention.

He crouched down to meet her eye level.

...

"Of course," Damien said. "What do you need help with?"

The little girl looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "Mister, can you tell me where this place is?" she asked. "My watch ran out of battery, so I can't call anyone. I think I got off at the wrong subway station."

Lost? Damien frowned. "You're here alone?"

Candy nodded. A small hand drifted unconsciously to her ear. It still hurts. "I was trying to find my mommy," she admitted softly. "But I think I got lost."

The last few words came out in a whisper.

She was only three years old.

After everything that had happened at home—and now finding herself alone in an unfamiliar place—she could feel the tears building despite her best efforts.

Her little face crumpled.

Damien's heart softened instantly. Without thinking, he opened his arms. Candy launched herself into them. He caught her easily. The tiny body pressed against his chest felt impossibly small.

"It's okay," he said quietly. One hand settled on the back of her head. "I'll help you."

Candy sniffled.

"Do you remember your mother's phone number?"

A few tears escaped before she nodded. "I do."

"Then let's call her."

Candy immediately shook her head. "No."

Damien blinked. "No?"

"Mommy's working." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "If she finds out I snuck out and got lost, she'll worry."

For a moment, Damien simply stared at her. She couldn't have been more than three years old. Yet she spoke clearly, thought logically, and worried more about her mother's feelings than her own.

Remarkable.

The more he spoke to her, the more he found himself liking her.

Without another word, he carried her toward his car.

The assistant waiting nearby looked horrified.

"Mr. Vaughn," he said cautiously, "the conference starts in twenty minutes."

Candy immediately stiffened. She looked from the assistant to Damien. Then her shoulders drooped. "Mister..." Her voice turned small. "Am I making you late for work?"

Damien looked down at her.

"Maybe you should just leave me here," she continued. "I can take the subway home by myself."

The suggestion was absurd. She was three years old. There was no universe in which he was letting her wander through the city alone.

More importantly…

He wasn't quite ready to hand her over yet.

The realization caught him off guard. 

He reached out and lightly pinched her soft cheek. "It's not important." Candy blinked. "The meeting can wait." A smile touched Damien's lips. "Getting you home comes first."

Candy's eyes instantly turned red again.

Nobody had ever said something like that to her before.

Strong. Reliable. Safe.

Being near him made her feel protected in a way she couldn't explain. Slowly, she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. "Mister?"

"Hm?"

"Can you hold me a little longer?" Damien froze. Candy lowered her head. "I've never been hugged by a daddy before."

The words struck him unexpectedly.

"All the other kids have daddies."

Her voice grew quieter.

"But not me."

Something tightened painfully inside Damien's chest. He gently smoothed a hand over her hair. "What happened to your father?"

Candy thought for a moment. "Mommy says he got sick and died." Her expression remained innocent. "I never got to meet him."

Damien fell silent. He wasn't sure what to say. Then suddenly, Candy lifted both hands and grabbed his face. Her tiny palms pressed against his cheeks as she stared at him with complete seriousness. "Even if I don't have a daddy, I'm not a bastard."

Damien blinked.

Candy continued stubbornly, "That's a bad word." She puffed out her cheeks. "People who say bad words aren't nice people." Then she nodded firmly. "So I don't care what they think."

Her eyes sparkled. "And someday, I'll have a daddy too."

The fierce determination on her little face was almost comical.

Damien felt his heart melt. If someone had told him yesterday that a three-year-old would have him wrapped around her finger, he would've laughed.

Yet here he was.

Completely defenseless.

"If anyone calls you that again," he said, "call me."

Candy's eyes widened.

"I'll handle it."

The little girl practically bounced in his arms. "Really?"

Damien nodded. "Really."

"Then give me your number!"

He laughed despite himself. "You'll forget it."

"I won't."

"You haven't even started school yet."

Candy immediately puffed out her chest. "I have a very good memory."

Amusement flashed across Damien's face. "Is that so?"

"Yes!"

"Fine." He settled back against the seat. "I'll only say it once."

Candy nodded solemnly. "I'm ready."

Damien recited the number. The moment he finished, Candy repeated every digit back perfectly.

Not a single mistake.

The assistant nearly choked.

Damien stared at her. "...Impressive."

Candy grinned proudly. "I told you." Then she pointed at him. "When I get home, I'll call you."

"Will you?"

"You have to answer."

Damien couldn't help smiling. "Alright."

The drive passed quickly. Most of it was spent listening to Candy chatter. By the time they arrived at the apartment complex, Damien felt strangely reluctant to leave. He carried her toward the building entrance.

Before they reached it, a man came running toward them.

"Candy!" The man was drenched in sweat. Relief and panic battled across his face. "Where have you been?" He grabbed his knees, struggling to catch his breath. "You nearly scared me to death!" His gaze shifted toward Damien. "Oh—"

Embarrassment immediately followed. "Thank you." He bowed quickly. "I'm sorry for the trouble."

The man had a noticeable limp. His faded courier uniform was soaked through, and years of hard labor showed clearly on his weathered face.

Damien didn't immediately hand Candy over. Instead, he looked down at her. "Do you know him?"

Candy looked guilty. "He's my uncle."

Only then did Damien relax. He carefully set her down. Her uncle immediately pulled her into a hug. The sight made Damien feel oddly relieved.

The first thing Candy did after getting home was charge her watch. The moment it powered on, she opened the messaging app. Then she carefully typed: This is Candy. I saved your number. You can save mine too. Thank you, Mister. ❤️

Although she was only three years old, Cecelia had spent years teaching her whenever she had free time. Candy could already read simple books, recognize hundreds of words, and type basic messages.

A few minutes later, Damien's phone buzzed. He glanced down. Then he stared.

A long moment passed.

His assistant glanced over. "Mr. Vaughn?"

Damien showed him the screen. The assistant nearly dropped his phone.

"A three-year-old wrote that?"

Damien wasn't entirely convinced himself. Memorizing an eleven-digit number was one thing. Sending a complete text message was another. The child was exceptionally bright.

But as his gaze lingered on the message, another thought surfaced. The Vaughn family occupied a very visible position in society.

Too visible.

Allowing strangers unrestricted access to him wasn't wise. No matter how much he liked the little girl.

After a brief pause, he locked his phone without replying.

Almost at the same time, Cecelia rushed home. The moment she stepped through the door, she heard shouting. Her brother and sister-in-law were still arguing about Candy's disappearance. The argument stopped immediately when they saw her.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" her sister-in-law demanded.

Cecelia ignored the question. She walked straight to Candy, then pulled her daughter into her arms. Only after holding her for several minutes did she finally relax. When she was certain Candy was alright, she reached into her bag. A marriage certificate landed on the dining table. "I was going to tell you tonight."

The room fell silent.

"But since everyone's here..." She looked directly at her sister-in-law. "I got married."

Both of them froze.

"What?" Her sister-in-law snatched up the certificate. "You got married? You don't even have a boyfriend!"

Her eyes widened as she saw Damien's photograph. The man in the picture was young. Handsome. Elegant. Far beyond anything she'd imagined. Disbelief flashed across her face.

"Who is this?" She turned to Cecelia. "What does he do? Where is he? Why didn't you bring him home?"

Cecelia had anticipated every question. 

"He's in sales." The lie came smoothly. "He's busy." She reached for the certificate. "I thought my brother would be working today, so I wasn't planning to introduce him yet."

The woman still looked suspicious. Cecelia didn't care. She had one final announcement. "Candy and I are moving out."

Her brother immediately looked concerned. But before he could speak, his wife grabbed his arm, silencing him.

An hour later, Cecelia and Candy climbed into a taxi with two suitcases. Everything they owned fit inside them. As the city drifted past outside the window, Candy looked up. "Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Is my new daddy nice?"

Cecelia nearly laughed.

"When did you meet him? Does he know about me?" Candy hesitated. Then asked quietly, "Will he hate me like Auntie does?"

The question stabbed straight through Cecelia's heart. She pulled her daughter into her arms. Only now was she realizing how deeply those wounds ran. "There is no new daddy."

Candy blinked. "What?"

"The marriage isn't real." Cecelia brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I asked a friend to help me."

Candy's eyes grew round. "A friend?"

"It was the fastest way to convince your aunt and uncle to let us leave." She kissed the top of her daughter's head. "From now on, it'll just be us. No one will look down on you. No one will hurt you. 

"I promise."

Candy listened carefully. Then, slowly, her eyes lit up.

There was no new husband. No new daddy.

Which meant…

The handsome, kind man she'd met today still had a chance.

A secret smile spread across her face. And for the first time all day, Candy felt excited about the future.

...

Cecelia checked into a motel, dropped off her luggage, and took Candy to enroll in a summer daycare program. Once that was done, she planned to spend the evening apartment hunting.

But before that, she had something important to do.

At three o'clock that afternoon, she was scheduled to sign a major contract.

She had spent months cultivating this client. If she successfully closed the deal, she would undoubtedly become the month's top salesperson. As her manager had promised, she would then be promoted to team leader.

Cecelia had worked in sales for three years, but her performance had always been average. Most of her time and energy had gone into raising Candy, leaving little room to focus on her career.

Now, Candy would be starting kindergarten soon, and they had finally moved out on their own.

It was time to build a better future.

For Candy's sake, she was determined to secure that promotion.

At exactly two o'clock, Cecelia arrived at Stratton's office building and checked in at the front desk.

To her surprise, the receptionist informed her that the purchasing manager's entire afternoon schedule was already booked.

"Someone from your company made an appointment earlier," the receptionist said. "Her name is Vivian Mason. Didn't you know about that?"

No. She didn't. But she knew exactly who Vivian was.

Desperate to improve her sales numbers and secure the same team leader position, Vivian had been eyeing this contract for months. Cecelia had always been careful to protect her client information and avoid revealing too much.

Unfortunately, taking half a day off had given Vivian the opportunity she had been waiting for.

Cecelia immediately called the purchasing manager.

No answer.

She called again.

Still nothing.

Then she called Vivian. The call failed instantly. She had been blocked.

A surge of anger shot through her chest. Without hesitation, she headed toward the elevators. But the receptionist stepped in front of her. "I'm sorry, but you can't go upstairs without an appointment."

At that very moment, Damien's motorcade pulled up outside the Stratton office building. Across the plaza, Cecelia was being escorted out by two security guards. Unfortunately, one of them shoved her harder than necessary.

Smack!

Cecelia stumbled and fell to the ground. One of her heels flew off. Her laptop slid across the pavement and stopped beside Damien's car. Her document folder burst open, scattering contracts and paperwork in every direction.

The scene was humiliating. Yet what hurt more than the embarrassment was the frustration.

For this contract, she had made countless trips to Stratton. She had spent months building relationships, maintaining goodwill, and carefully nurturing the account.

And now, at the very last moment, everything had gone wrong.

But there was no time to dwell on anger or disappointment. She wasn't going to let the contract be stolen from her. She would find a way to turn things around.

Her elbow burned where it had scraped against the pavement, but she pushed herself upright without hesitation. She slipped her shoe back on, gathered her papers, and called her manager while organizing the scattered documents.

Inside the car, Damien watched quietly. His gaze lingered on her calm expression and efficient movements. His brows furrowed slightly. Wasn't that the woman he had just married this morning? What was she doing here?

So she worked in sales.

What exactly had happened that resulted in her being thrown onto the pavement in front of an office building?

Yet despite the scrape on her arm and the humiliation she'd just endured, she showed almost no emotion. It was as though she had long since grown used to handling problems like this.

To make a good impression on Damien, the president of Stratton, Jordan Hayes had personally come out to welcome him and accompany him on the company tour before the contract signing.

So when Jordan spotted the scene unfolding outside the building, his face immediately paled. He reached for the door handle, intending to rush out.

"Stay where you are." 

Damien's calm voice stopped him.

Jordan froze. Forcing an awkward smile, he said, "I'm terribly sorry you had to see that, Mr. Vaughn. You know how salespeople can be these days. Some of them are incredibly persistent. If you're not careful, they'll sneak into the building. The security guards probably didn't have much choice."

Damien's eyes remained fixed on Cecelia. "A salesperson?"

"Yes."

"She doesn't work here?"

"Absolutely not. We don't even use uniforms like that. Besides—"

Normally, Damien wouldn't have paid attention to a scene like this. But today was different. Perhaps it was because he recognized the woman. Or perhaps because Jordan's explanation sounded increasingly unconvincing.

"Find out exactly what happened," Damien said. Jordan immediately straightened. "If your company throws people out simply because they're trying to do business with you, then I don't think there's any need for us to continue our deal."

After all, Vaughn Group employed salespeople too. He had no interest in partnering with a company that treated professionals this way.

Jordan immediately broke out in a cold sweat and practically leapt out of the car. Moments later, he was personally helping Cecelia gather her documents and escorting her back inside with extreme politeness.

When he learned that she had spent months negotiating with the purchasing manager, only to be shut out on the day of the signing, his expression darkened.

He led her directly to the purchasing manager's office. The door swung open. Inside, Vivian was perched on the purchasing manager's lap, kissing him passionately.

Jordan's face instantly turned black. "Security!" The two people inside froze. "Get her out of this building immediately and blacklist her."

Vivian's face was drained of color. "Mr. Hayes, I—"

"Out." Then Jordan turned toward the purchasing manager. "As for you, begin the handover process immediately." The man's face turned pale. "And don't bother coming back tomorrow."

By the time Cecelia left Stratton, the contract was signed and the deal was hers.

The afternoon breeze felt sweeter than usual.

She was only twenty-three years old, raising a child on her own. Every day came with enormous pressure and responsibility. It had been a long time since she had felt genuinely happy.

A smile spread across her face. Her steps were light as she walked away from the building, looking as though she might break into a dance at any moment.

From inside his car, Damien watched her leave. Her steps were quick and light, her happiness impossible to hide. Somehow, the coldness in his expression eased slightly as well.

When Cecelia returned to the office with the signed contract, the entire department erupted in celebration.

Just as her manager had promised, she would officially become Group B's team leader starting the next day.

Everyone crowded around her desk.

"You have to treat us to dinner!"

"That's right!"

"This is a huge achievement!"

Even Vivian joined the crowd as though nothing had happened earlier. "I think Valoria Gardens would be perfect," she said brightly. "As far as I remember, Cecelia hasn't treated us once since she joined the company. I've already decided what I'm ordering."

At the mention of Valoria Gardens, everyone's eyes lit up.

"I've always wanted to go there!"

"I heard it's amazing!"

"Cecelia, please?"

With everyone looking at her expectantly, there was no reasonable way to refuse.

Cecelia nodded. "Sure."

But Vivian clearly wasn't ready to let things go. "I heard you're quite close with Mr. Hayes from Stratton." The office grew noticeably quieter. "After all, he personally helped you secure this contract."

Several people exchanged glances.

Vivian smiled sweetly. "No wonder we've never seen you with a boyfriend. Cecelia, you've come this far because of Mr. Hayes, haven't you?" She tilted her head. "Why don't you invite him to dinner too? It would be a great opportunity to introduce everyone."

At those words, several coworkers began looking at Cecelia differently.

Cecelia had always known Vivian had no shame. But she hadn't realized she was shameless enough to throw accusations at someone else after being caught red-handed herself.

Did Vivian really think she would just stand there and take it?

Cecelia handed the contract to her manager. Then she turned toward Vivian with a cold smile. "Of course I don't spend my time chasing boyfriends."

The office instantly fell silent.

"I'm married." She paused. "And I have a child."

Vivian's smile stiffened.

Cecelia continued calmly, "Unlike you, Miss Mason, who seems perfectly comfortable sitting on any man's lap you can find." Several people nearly choked. "Didn't you get enough practice sitting on the purchasing manager's lap today?"

Vivian's face turned bright red.

"And now you want a turn with Mr. Hayes too?" A few coworkers burst out laughing. Cecelia folded her arms. "Unfortunately, I can't help you there." Her smile widened slightly. "Because Mr. Hayes personally said your behavior was disgraceful and had you blacklisted."

The laughter stopped. Everyone stared at Vivian in shock. 

Cecelia's voice remained calm. "Or did you forget about that already?"