Marry Me, Mr. Sanders!

SCAR

KNOXX

The thing I hate most is when people mess with my things, especially my office. So, when I found out that Carl was in there with a woman, I rushed over.

"What the hell is going on here?" I yelled angrily, and my anger only grew when I saw her—the woman I despised. She's back, sitting in my chair as if she owns the place.

She no longer looked like she did the last time I saw her, when she was in a wheelchair, with casts and scars on her body and face. She looked even prettier and more refined now.

"What are you doing here? I don't remember inviting you. Get the hell out of here!" I moved closer to the table, locking eyes with her. "Before I drag you out, first, get out of my chair!"

"Easy, Sanders," she said, smiling as if my anger didn't faze her at all. She stood up and walked toward me. "It's not like I'm going to eat your precious executive chair." She even had the nerve to joke. She came even closer until our faces were almost touching. I could smell her breath. "Because at this moment, you're the one I want to eat," she whispered, catching me completely off guard. I was shocked and speechless. How could a woman say something like that to a man? Especially to someone she knew was furious with her. She's brave. I knew she was mocking me, and Carl, standing behind her, was probably laughing at me too. I grabbed her arms and began to drag her out. "Get out!"

"Wait!" she protested. "I'm hurt. I just want to talk to you. Is this how the great Knoxx Sanders welcomes someone? So ungentlemanly? Is this how you treat a woman?" Her tone suddenly turned serious, and I stopped. "Not that it's surprising, right? You may hate me; I know that. But haven't you done enough to me? Do you want me to die?" Her words left me even more speechless. I may be angry with her, but I never hurt women. I let go of her arm.

"Come on, bro. Maybe you should hear her out," Carl suggested, trying to calm things down.

"You've read the contract, right? It's clear who benefits from it. Is it me?" she continued.

"This is your empire, Knoxx Sanders!" There was sadness in her eyes as she spoke, and a part of me wanted to know what she had to say. She walked toward the glass window, taking off her coat. I could see her back, and Carl was right—she was stunning, with a slim waist and full hips. But what intrigued me more was the long scar, about a foot long, on her back.

Carl and I exchanged glances. Why didn't she have it removed? It's clear she had gone abroad for surgery and treatment. Why leave the scar?

"You have everything, and I know you don't need me," she continued, turning to face me again. "And yes, I have the nerve to come to you, of all people. I take full responsibility for what I've done. I don't deserve forgiveness."

"As you said, you've got a lot of nerve. But if you've got any shame left, you should leave now. I don't need your damn company, and I definitely don't want to marry you." I went to my chair to calm myself. I hadn't expected her to come back. And now, I couldn't even think straight. Just a moment ago, I was in a smooth board meeting, with everything going according to plan, and now, I was a mess.

"Do you know why I kept this scar on my back?" Her sudden shift in the conversation surprised me. "It's a reminder that, at one point, you wanted to kill me. We're not so different. I killed your fiancée and your unborn child, unintentionally, but you—you planned to kill me. So, who's worse? You want to kill me? Why not do it now?" There was no fear in her eyes. "You're so damn powerful; you could kill me with a snap of your fingers." She still believed I had orchestrated her near-death.

"Excuse me," she said, preparing to leave. Carl and I exchanged glances again. I thought she wouldn't leave me alone, but she suddenly gave up.

"Wait!" I shouted, and she stopped. I didn't even know why I had said that. She turned to face me again.

"If you don't want to marry me, I'll find someone else who will. Maybe Elon Musk might consider my offer," she said sarcastically.

"Yes."

"What?"

"I said I'll marry you." I didn't know why I had said that. It was too late to take it back. The thought of her finding someone else to marry had run through my mind, and I couldn't stand it. I knew how desperate she was.

Carl suddenly clapped, startling both of us. He shook his head, laughing. "What a scene!"

"Will you stop it, Carl?" I scolded him. "Could you leave us alone for a moment while I talk to this woman?" He immediately left.

"Call me Sam," she said, grinning from ear to ear as she sat on the couch. "The wedding is in two weeks."

"Two weeks? Are you crazy?"

"That's what they say," she said playfully, inspecting her nails.

"You're unbelievable."

"At least I'm pretty," she retorted. My patience was wearing thin. Just moments ago, she was serious and dramatic; now, she was acting like a crazy person. "The terms in the contract are clear, honey. Should I call my lawyer to finalize everything?" She looked at me.

"Don't call me honey," I snapped, suddenly reminded of Camille, my late fiancée, because that's what we used to call each other.

"And why not? Technically, we'll be husband and wife."

"And let me remind you why we're getting married. You know exactly why." I looked at her seriously. "And didn't you tell me that I can do whatever I want to you?"

"And I also told you not to fall in love with me."

"I will never fall in love with you!" I said emphatically. She smiled at me flirtatiously.

"It's already lunchtime. Aren't you going to ask me out to eat?" Her confidence was something else.

"Eat by yourself. I have a lot of work to do. Just because I accepted your proposal doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you." I started organizing the scattered papers on my desk. She stood up, put on her sunglasses, and draped her coat over her shoulder, leaving her scar still visible.

"Okay. See you in two weeks. I'll send Lance tomorrow for the contract finalization. Let me know if you want to make any changes, no problem." She left so quickly that I didn't even have a chance to respond. That woman really thinks fast. It's like no matter what I say, she always has a comeback. And she's sending her own boyfriend here?