CHAPTER 18: PROPOSING

Aiden’s POV

The day had already been packed with meetings, deadlines, and people who couldn’t seem to understand simple instructions. So, naturally, the universe decided to throw one more irritation my way.

We were speeding through the city, the rain blurring the world outside my tinted windows, when Tobias suddenly slammed on the brakes, causing my coffee to slosh dangerously close to my custom-tailored suit.

"Tobias," I snapped, setting the cup down with calculated precision, "why are we stopping?"

Before he could stammer out an answer, I glanced through the windshield to see the problem. A girl. Early twenty, bedraggled, and currently standing in the middle of the street, staring at my car like a deer caught in headlights.

The horn blared. She didn’t move. Instead, she seemed to be lost in her own head. Fantastic.

The car skidded to a halt just inches from her, and Tobias practically launched himself out of the driver’s seat, his face a picture of panic.

"Miss, are you okay?" he asked, his voice almost trembling.

I didn’t bother to step out. This entire situation was a waste of time. From my seat, I could see her blink a few times as though processing the question before looking up at Tobias with what I could only describe as misplaced indignation.

This wasn’t going to be a quick interaction.

I rolled down the window just as Tobias started tripping over his words to apologize.

"Tobias," I said, my tone sharp and final, "if you didn’t hit anything, let’s go. I’m running late."

Her head whipped toward me at the sound of my voice. The recognition was instant. Her expression twisted into something between shock and rage.

Oh. It was her.

The obnoxious waitress who’d drenched me in ice and shouted herself out of a job. My wife to be.

"Hey!" she yelled, stomping toward the car with all the grace of an angry toddler. Tobias froze halfway into the driver’s seat, looking like he wanted to disappear.

I sighed and leaned back, pinching the bridge of my nose. Here we go.

"Hey, Mr. Fancy Pants!" she shouted again, louder this time. "You’re just gonna sit there like nothing happened?"

I turned my head slowly, my expression blank. I didn’t have the patience for this. "What exactly do you want?" I asked, keeping my tone flat and bored.

"Oh, I don’t know," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "How about an apology for almost turning me into a speed bump?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Tobias didn’t hit you," I said simply. "As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing to apologize for."

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, I thought she might faint from sheer outrage. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," I said, leaning back in my seat.

The rain was starting to soak through her already pathetic outfit, but she didn’t seem to care. Instead, she launched into a tirade about emotional damage, trauma, and something about this being the "second time" I’d ruined her life.

"Second time?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! You’re the reason I lost my job! And now you’re the reason I’m standing in the rain, soaking wet, probably about to catch pneumonia!"

I studied her for a moment, my expression carefully neutral. She was fuming, her face flushed, her hair sticking to her cheeks in wet clumps.

And yet, somehow, she looked exactly like she did back in the diner—ridiculously dramatic, unreasonably stubborn, and entirely beneath my time.

Still, I couldn’t help it. The corner of my mouth twitched into a smirk. "Are you done?"

That was the breaking point. Her expression darkened, and before I could react, she reached down, grabbed a handful of mud, and hurled it straight at the car.

It splattered across the door and—more impressively—somehow managed to hit my face.

The audacity.

Tobias gasped. I blinked, slowly reaching up to wipe the muck from my cheek. My smirk vanished.

"Now I’m done," she said with a smug finality, spinning on her heel and stomping away.

I sat there for a moment, stunned into silence. Tobias looked like he was bracing for an explosion.

The rain had picked up, streaking the windows of the car as I stared ahead, watching her retreating figure through the blur of droplets. Her audacity, the gall to throw mud at me, should have infuriated me. Instead, it was almost amusing. Almost.

But I wasn’t one to let people walk away without finishing a conversation. Least of all someone as reckless and irrational as her. I also needed to propose after all.

"Tobias," I said, my tone cutting through the tension in the car, "reverse."

"Sir?" Tobias asked, clearly unsure if he’d heard me correctly.

"You heard me," I said, my voice calm but firm. "Follow her. Backward."

The car shifted into reverse with a jolt, the tires splashing against the wet pavement as we began moving. Her figure grew clearer as the distance between us closed.

She must have heard the engine, but she didn’t stop. Of course, she didn’t. She was too busy fuming, her shoulders stiff, her pace brisk. The kind of defiance that bordered on childish.

I waited, watching, until she finally glanced over her shoulder.

The look on her face when she realized the car was following her? Priceless.

She stopped abruptly, spinning around to face us with all the bravado of someone who thought she had control of the situation. Arms crossed, rain dripping off her ridiculous, soaked outfit, she shouted, "What do you want?"

Tobias slowed to a halt. I lowered the window just enough to meet her glare.

"Marry me," I said.

Her expression froze, caught somewhere between disbelief and fury.

"What did you just say?"

"Marry me," I repeated, my tone even and unaffected by her outburst.

For a moment, she just stood there, the rain pouring between us, her mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.

And then, predictably, she huffed and turned to walk away. "Go bother someone else. I’ve got better things to do than deal with your rich-boy tantrums."

Tobias started to move the car forward, but I held up a hand. "Stay put, continue to follow her."

The girl stopped again as the car followed her, her fists clenching. She spun around, stomping toward me like a tempest.

"Listen," she snapped, her voice sharp and grating. "If you’re trying to intimidate me, it’s not going to work. You can’t call this assault. It was just mud!"

I arched a brow, feigning amusement. "Assault? Press charges? Hardly. Let’s not get dramatic."

"Dramatic?!" she yelled, her voice echoing over the rain. "You’re literally following me in reverse! Through the rain! How is that not dramatic?"

I gestured to Tobias to stop entirely and pushed the door open. Stepping out, I let the rain soak my already-ruined suit. She deserved my full attention.

Standing there, she looked ridiculous—wet, defiant, and utterly indignant. But behind the anger, there was something else. Desperation.

"What do you want?" she demanded again, glaring at me with fire in her eyes.

I met her gaze, my tone calm but unyielding. "You owe me."

Her jaw dropped. "I owe you? Are you serious right now?"

"You threw mud in my face."

"And you cost me my job!"

"And yet," I said, brushing away her outburst, "I’m here. Talking to you. In the rain."

She scoffed, her arms flailing. "Oh, congratulations! Do you want a medal or something?"

"No," I said simply, locking eyes with her. "I want you to marry me."

The words hung in the air, the rain acting as the only sound between us.

Her reaction was predictable. She sputtered, pointing at me as if she couldn’t believe her ears. "Are you out of your damn mind?"

"Not at all," I replied smoothly. "In fact, I’d say I’m being remarkably practical."

"Practical?" she echoed, her voice rising. "You think this is practical? Proposing—no, ordering—me to marry you in the middle of the street?"

I shrugged. "It’s not a proposal. It’s a solution."

Her hands flew to her head in frustration. "A solution to what?"

"Your problems. And mine."

"What problems?" she asked, her voice dripping with exasperation.

"You’re broke, jobless, and clearly in need of help," I said, matter-of-factly. "I’m rich, influential, and in need of a wife. It’s a win-win situation."

The fury in her eyes flared. "You are the most insufferable man I’ve ever met."

"Good," I said. "Because that makes you the perfect candidate."

She turned away, muttering something under her breath about insanity. I let her take a few steps before calling out.

"I’ll pay off your debts."

That stopped her.

She turned back slowly, glaring at me like she wanted to set me on fire. "What makes you think I’d ever agree to this?"

"Because you don’t have any other options," I said simply.

Her mouth opened to protest, but no words came out. I’d hit the mark, and she knew it.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my card, holding it out to her. "Think about it."

She stared at the card, then at me, and back at the card again.

"You’re insane," she said finally, but she didn’t walk away.

"Not insane," I said with the faintest hint of a smirk. "Practical."

Without another word, I stepped back into the car, leaving her standing there in the rain. She’d come around. They always did.

"Tobias," I said finally, my voice low and controlled, "make sure this car is cleaned by the time I’m out of my next meeting."

"Yes, sir," he squeaked, practically diving back into the driver’s seat.

As for the girl—Alexia, wasn’t it?—she was already disappearing into the rain-soaked streets.

"Alexia," I muttered under my breath, the name rolling around my mind like a bad aftertaste.