A Marriage Proposal.

I blink at the document in my hand, the pages filled with words that feel foreign on my tongue.

Marriage. Prenuptial. Wife. Duties. Agreement.

My fingers are visibly shaking as I skim through the document in confusion.

I glance at the man sitting in front of me, my legs still trapped between his strong thighs and his eyes looking at my face with utmost concentration. He thinks I will squeal at his vague proposal to be his wife. After all, which man in an Armani Suit and expensive limo would want a stripper as his lawfully wedded wife.

"I don't understand..." I wet my lips and reach for the wine beside my hip. He snatches the glass from my hand and places the wine back on the table. I raise a brow. "What?"

"To understand you've to read through the document. Take your time, Ever. Everything you need to know is listed there." He rests his elbows on his thighs and waits for me to take in his words with his hands folded. His eyes flick at the wine glass and back to me. "I need you to be sober for this one."

I shake my head, looking down at the contract in my hands, my name written in full and block letters. "You don't know me, Mr. Wayland and I sure as hell don't need to know you. So, this sounds ridiculous to me."

"I know you enough, Ever Hill a.k.a Eve. Last night was to know you in person and you didn't disappoint me one bit. You're the perfect match. I need a wife for a certain obligation. And you need an out from your current state of living. I think the proposal is a great opportunity for both of us."

An opportunist, that's what he is. But somehow it fills me with both anger and disappointment. "And what makes you think, I don't like my current life. Maybe, I do love to be a stripper. Ever thought of that?"

That produces a humorless laugh, his head tipping back and veins lining his smooth neck has me gulping down a mouthful of temptation. "No you don't. I've had your history. Your life is nothing short of a hell for your own good. You hate your job at Shimmers and your place here. You have a very non romantic life with no boyfriend or friends for that matter. And most of all, your father is under care in a city hospital with his insurance expiring in a month. You want to be a supermodel and your father needs financial security. This proposal guarantees both."

My fingers tighten around the document in my hand. I have two options. I can either tear them into pieces and throw it on his face or sign up for a life I can never get otherwise. I think about my father's medical bills lying in my drawer. The small dingy apartment that we're currently sitting in, then the wandering hands of sweaty men I strip for and finally at the man in front of me. He shines through everything else in my life. A light at the end of the tunnel. Only problem is it's burning me instead of wrapping me in its warmth. It's making my eyes sore and I hate the fact that he knows how despondent my life is. I exhale. "I have a boyfriend."

He remains silent for the longest second before removing an envelope from the interior pocket of his suit. "Ex-boyfriend."

"What?" I blink at the envelope he placed on my thigh, his knuckles brushing lightly on the bare skin peeking through the slit of my robe.

"I've had him follow. Mr. Smith doesn't seem to be the kind of man you should be dating. His loyalty is questionable. See for yourself. All the evidence of his cheating ass is in that envelope. And don't worry my sources are genuine since I used the exact same source to know about you."

Indeed, Edward isn't an ideal boyfriend. I don't even need to look into his evidence to verify that. But just to not display my questionable choice in men, I empty the content of the envelope on the table and spread the pictures. I wince at the pictures of his naked body on top of another girl much older than me, his small cheating dick inside another woman is the last thing that will make me cry. So, I look away.

"You've exactly two hours to go over the proposal and sign it." He says in his deep voice, eyeing the watch around his wrist. "And I really hope you sign it."

I hold up the documents and wave it at him, my brain working overtime to think of a catch in his proposal. "And what's in it for me?"

He scowls as if I just asked him the stupidest question. "Whatever you want."

"That's not very clear to me." I meet his mocking eyes challengingly. "If I'm going to give up my entire life and choose to be a wife at 21, I need to know what I am getting in return."

"Everything you otherwise can't. Not by grating your sinfully beautiful body against sweaty strangers and definitely not by doing clothing ads." He flicks a finger at the magazine and then taps the documents in my hands. "This is your free pass to be a Wayland wife. You'll have a life of luxury, everything you want will be at your fingertips and your father will be admitted to private healthcare, with insurance that will cover up his lifetime medical bills. And most of all, you'll be my wife."

"You have a twisted way of seeking romance." I arch a brow at him, holding the documents lazily against my chest. It will take me a while to read all the terms and conditions listed there.

He stops midway buttoning up his shirt, the one I had popped open just a minute ago. As he regards me with a smug smile, I'm amazed to see the hint of playfulness in his deep emerald eyes. "Romance? No. There's nothing romantic about this marriage proposal. Just because we're going to be husband and wife doesn't mean we're going to be one of those hopeless romantic couples. I thought you of all people wouldn't expect that from me. I have no place in my heart for romance. And you should never expect that from me. If you sign up to this agreement, your duties as a Wayland wife will be nothing more than what's stated in these pages."

He leans close, close, close until his breath mingles with mine and the playfulness is replaced with something dark and fierce. "The only thing that I can possibly want from this marriage is a wife in law and the only thing you should seek from me is mind blowing sex which has its own clause in the papers. But anything beyond that is non-negotiable. I think you should take that into consideration while signing the agreement."

He steps away from me as if I'm suffocating him. "You're in need of the financial security I'm offering and I need a wife. However, if after reading the terms and conditions you disagree, you'll still have your job at the Shimmers as a stripper for as long as you wish to work. Now, you have to decide which path you wanna choose."

I'm rendered speechless after his longest detailing of the scenario between us. Any hope for a fairytale shattering in an instance.

There's nothing romantic about this marriage proposal.

Yeah, there's nothing romantic about it. Only a naïve person like me will expect something like that.

I thought you of all people wouldn't expect that from me.

Why? Because I'm a stripper. A handsome, dignified man like him wouldn't romance a stripper for all I know.

Wife in law.

Mind-blowing sex.

My face heats up and I'm sure he looked closer, he would find me blushing hard. "Why the sex, if not for romance?"

He blinks and blinks again as if he didn't expect me to ask that. "Because you wouldn't want me to be with other women while we're bound by a marriage contract, would you?"

I remain quiet. The fact is that the thought of sharing a bed with him has me trembling with both fear and excitement.

He rakes a hand through his hair and curses under his breath. "Look, Ever. I've a pretty active sex life. Sex comes under the non-negotiable clause, okay. That's one of the reasons I chose you. Your face turned my dick hard and none of the other prospects had half as strong an effect on my libido as you. And we've to consummate the marriage to make it appear real in front of my family."

My eyes bulge out in surprise. "How would your family know about what's happening in our bedroom?"

He holds eye contact for silent communication. "Believe me they will. I've a catalogue of eligible brides, selling their virginity to marry a billionaire. So, definitely it's going to be a family. Only the rules of this arranged marriage will be set by me."

He leans back on the couch and watches me intently, almost in a calculative and challenging way.

I look down at the papers in my hand and count my lucky stars.

Life as a trophy wife isn't something I've ever wished for. Now, it's my only reprise from this life of constant struggle. The question is - can this utterly stoic, unemotional and cold man ever see me as more than a stripper, getting undressed for him in return for financial security?

The answer pinches my heart and for once I desire to have some sort of power over the world. And I know I can never have that if I made the wrong choice.

***

A/N: Please don't forget to hit the star if you like the story. Any suggestions are much appreciated.