Kathrine POV:

"Sorry I'm late. Damian Sharpe. I'm with her."

It was the man I had just approached. He stood tall, impossibly tall, his presence even more commanding. But his eyes were gentle.

A man in an impeccable suit who looked like he owned half of Manhattan, a man who had just seemed bewildered by my mad proposal, how could he have changed his mind and come back to help me?

Just then, my phone vibrated again, a jarring interruption. Molly's name flashed on the screen. She wasn't done humiliating me.

I fumbled to decline the call, but my thumb slipped and I accidentally hit the speakerphone button as I answered.

Molly's sharp, triumphant voice rang out through the quiet hallway. "What's wrong, sis? Cat got your tongue? Are you hiding in some corner, crying like the pathetic little stray you are?"

The words hung in the air, sharp and cruel.

"I told you, you were never good enough for Earl. You're too demanding, too boring. Who would ever truly want a woman like you?"

The stares from the clerk in front of me and the passersby felt like physical blows. My cheeks burned with intense shame, and I thought I might collapse.

Just as I was about to turn and run, the tall stranger, Damian, reached out. His long, elegant fingers tapped my screen and ended the call.

Then he looked at me, those ice-blue eyes meeting mine. His voice was low and steady, a lifeline in my sea of humiliation.

"She's wrong."

I stared at him, my mind blank.

Damian gave a slight nod to a younger man in a suit standing behind him. The younger man immediately stepped forward, offering a polite bow to the clerk and the other onlookers who had stopped to stare. "I apologize for the disturbance. My superior has some private matters to attend to."

Then the blue-eyed man guided me, his hand hovering just above my lower back without actually touching, leading me to a less crowded corner. He created a protective shield, isolating me from prying eyes.

Leaning against the wall, I finally caught my breath. "Thank you," I whispered, "but... why did you say that?"

He looked at me directly, his gaze sharp enough to see through the mess inside me. "Because I thought about it, and I do need a wife to solve some issues."

His bluntness left me speechless. I was the solution to a problem?

"You," he said, gesturing toward me, "need a groom to salvage your dignity and save you from becoming a laughingstock."

Then he pointed his thumb at his own chest. "And I need a marriage to stop my family from arranging those pointless blind dates."

The logic was both terrifying and absurd. It was one of the craziest things I had ever heard, right up there with me proposing to him moments ago.

"So," Damian concluded, "we really could help each other."

I opened my mouth to say, you're insane, but the words stuck in my throat. His gaze was so calm, so utterly serious.

My life had hit rock bottom today. What could be worse than this? Marrying a stranger, or becoming a public joke?

I thought of Molly's smug smirk and Earl's cowardly betrayal. A bitter, defiant fire burned in my chest.

Why should I be the one to suffer?

I lifted my chin and met his gaze, for the first time with a hint of my own strength. "What's in it for me?"

"You approached me first, miss, and now you ask for benefits?" A faint, almost imperceptible smile crossed Damian's lips, a fleeting sign of approval. "Aside from the title of husband, what else do you want?"

The question stopped me cold. What did I want? I wanted my dignity back. I didn't want to be a pawn for my family, for my ex anymore.

"Please give me a little more time to think," I finally said.

"Fine," he nodded, his tone crisp. "You have five minutes. My time is valuable."

And he actually stood there, glancing at the expensive watch on his wrist, starting to count down for me. His composure, his sheer audacity, confirmed one thing. This was no ordinary man.

Kathrine POV:

Five minutes felt like an eternity. My mind raced, frantically calculating the risks and rewards. On one side, there was the certainty of humiliation from Earl. On the other, a leap into the complete unknown.

I looked at the man in front of me. He stood perfectly still, like a silent mountain of quiet confidence. His presence radiated a strange, undeserved sense of reliability.

I thought of my family—my father Derek, who saw me only as a bargaining chip, and my stepmother Hannah White and stepsister Molly, who were always scheming against me. I was alone. I had no safe place to land.

At the fourth minute, I made my choice.

I would rather choose my own chaos than have it forced upon me.

I took a deep breath, and just as Damian was about to check his watch again, I spoke. "I agree. But I have conditions."

His eyebrows arched, a flicker of surprise mixed with something that looked like approval. "Name them."

"First, this is a partnership. We are equals. You cannot interfere with my personal life or my career. Second, the duration and termination of this marriage must be a mutual decision. Third, I want a written agreement." The words came out clear and crisp, the market director in me taking over.

He listened, his expression unreadable, then nodded without hesitation. "Agreed. Ian." He looked at the younger man in the suit.

Ian stepped forward, holding a tablet. As if by magic, a contract template was already displayed on the screen. It was clean, professional, and covered all my concerns and even more. There was even a clause about financial independence.

I scanned the terms, stunned. This man, Damian, seemed to have anticipated everything.

"Sign if there are no issues," he said.

I took the stylus and signed my name on the screen: Kathrine Fields. The moment my signature was complete, I felt a clear line drawn across my life. Before. And after.

He took the tablet and signed his name: Damian Sharpe. I stared at the bold, decisive signature. I knew nothing about this man, who was now, legally, about to become my husband.

Ian took the tablet back and disappeared to handle the electronic filing.

Damian turned to me, extending his hand. "Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Fields."

I placed my hand in his. His palm was broad and warm, calloused and strong.

"It's Mrs. Sharpe now," I corrected, my voice steadier than I felt.

A glint of amusement lit his ice-blue eyes. "Indeed, Mrs. Sharpe."

We walked back to the clerk waiting for us. This time, I had a man by my side who was a hundred times stronger, a hundred times more handsome, and a hundred times better than Earl Reynolds.

We completed the paperwork, with Ian as our witness. When the marriage certificate confirming our union was placed in my hands, the world felt utterly unreal.

I, Kathrine Fields, had gotten married on the same day I was abandoned by my ex-fiancé.

When we stepped out of City Hall, the sunlight stung my eyes. A sleek, obscenely expensive-looking black Bentley was waiting at the curb. Once again, I realized that this man, my husband, was no ordinary man. Ian opened the rear door. Damian placed a hand on the roof, a small, gentlemanly gesture to keep me from hitting my head as I got in.

The interior was quiet and cool, a haven from the cacophony of the city. I watched the streets of New York blur past, feeling like I was boarding an express train to an unknown destination.

"About our marriage," Damian broke the silence. "I would prefer we keep it a secret for now. I won't be introducing you to my family just yet."

I turned to him, confused. "Why? I thought you needed to stop them from setting up those blind dates."

"Letting them know I'm married is one thing," he explained. "Letting them know who I married is another. I don't want you dragged into my mess right away."

It sounded like he was being considerate, but I knew it was more about protecting his own world. I nodded. "That's fine with me."

"Good." He seemed pleased with my practicality.

The car cruised smoothly through the traffic. Silence fell between us again. I didn't know where he was taking me. I didn't know where I was going either. We were husband and wife, and yet we were strangers.