Diana's voice was soft.It wasn't the warmth of kindness, but the measured softness that often came just before someone delivered a cutting remark. "So..." she repeated, tilting her head slightly. "Out of everyone here... you chose to ask me?"Jack met her gaze without flinching. "You happened to be the closest."For a brief heartbeat, the boutique grew unusually quiet as everyone processed his answer.Then Diana laughed.Her laughter wasn't loud or uncontrolled. It was refined and deliberate, the kind of laugh that belonged to someone who was accustomed to having people agree with her. "Oh, that's rich."Her friends immediately burst into laughter as well. "He forgot his wallet and his pride.""I've heard better pickup lines.""These gold diggers are becoming more creative every day."One of them raised her phone a little higher, carefully centering Jack's face on the screen. "This is definitely going online."Jack noticed the camera, but He made no effort to stop her. If they wanted

The words Diana had spoken did not disappear immediately. Instead, they lingered in the air, heavy and undeniable, as though the space itself refused to let them go.She didn't think twice; the statement jumped out of her mouth, “...Marry me,” as she almost choked in her own saliva.For a fleeting moment, the bustling entrance of Imperial Galleria seemed to lose its rhythm. The world did not truly stop, yet to those standing nearby, it felt as though everything had slowed just enough to notice the weight of what had just been said.Traffic outside continued to move in steady streams. Shoppers passed by with branded bags swinging casually from their wrists. Somewhere near the fountain, a child’s laughter rang out, bright and carefree.Yet around Diana Sterling, an entirely different atmosphere had taken hold, one thick with disbelief and sharpened curiosity.Jack Foreman stood before her, silent.His expression remained composed, as though nothing could easily disturb him, but a faint

The black leather folder containing the signed contract rested quietly on Diana Sterling’s lap, its weight far heavier than the slim stack of paper it held.Neither she nor Jack spoke during the drive.Outside, the city pulsed with its usual afternoon rhythm. Luxury sedans glided past towering office buildings, pedestrians hurried across busy intersections, and massive digital billboards lit up the skyline with advertisements worth millions.Inside the back seat of Diana’s Rolls-Royce, however, the atmosphere felt entirely different: tight, controlled, and quietly charged with unspoken tension.Jack sat beside the window, watching the passing city with calm interest.He had attended countless meetings in skyscrapers overlooking these very streets. He had negotiated mergers that reshaped entire industries and dined privately with presidents, royalty, and some of the most powerful investors in the world.Yet somehow, the thought of meeting his contract fiancée’s parents stirred somethin

The silence stretched across the grand foyer, thick and unyielding, as though the air itself had grown heavy with disbelief. No one moved. Even the faint ticking of the antique grandfather clock, tucked against the far wall, echoed with an unnatural sharpness that only emphasized the tension gripping the room.Richard Sterling stood motionless beside the marble fireplace, his half-filled wineglass trembling slightly in his hand.A dark crimson stain had already begun to spread across the polished white floor where the wine had spilled, but he paid it no attention. His entire focus remained locked on Jack.The casually dressed young man standing beside his daughter. “…Your fiancé?” Richard repeated, his voice lowered to a near whisper, as though saying the words any louder might make them more real.Diana held his gaze without hesitation. “Yes.”Her answer was calm, steady, and unmistakably firm. The single word seemed to travel across the hall and settle into every corner of the room.

The laughter that had filled the Sterling family’s dining room only moments earlier faded into nothing, leaving behind a strained and uneasy quiet.The long mahogany table, once lively with conversation, now felt like a stage where every movement and glance carried weight.Richard Sterling fixed his gaze on Jack, studying him as though he were a problem that refused to be solved. “…A janitor?” he repeated, his tone low and carefully controlled.Jack met his eyes without hesitation. “I work at Greenwood Holdings.”Richard frowned slightly. “I heard that part,” he replied. “What I don’t understand…” He leaned forward, placing both hands firmly on the table as his voice sharpened, “…is why my daughter intends to marry someone who cleans the floors of the very company I have spent three years trying to partner with.”Jack answered without a trace of embarrassment. “Every job deserves respect.”His calm response deepened the silence rather than easing it. Several board members exchanged gl