Chapter 33

Tyler questions his own naveté. Of course, Mary would not allow it or agree with him if he made another contract, but his grandfather had been telling him about wanting to hold a grandchild soon, and he wanted nothing but to make the old man happy. After all, he would do everything to make him optimistic. Tyler knew he was dying, and he wanted to give him everything before his last breath. But somehow, money couldn't save a life.

He had been born with a golden and silver spoon in his mouth, and even after his parents' accident, their memory had been too far away for him to remember. Still, he was more than delighted to be supervised by his grandfather. Since his parents had passed away for many years, he was never forced to economise because his grandfather owned a hefty sum of states and businesses, but everything would be useless if he couldn't give the old man his final request, right? And who was he to ignore his last wishes?

He explained, "Mary, please read the contract first. Of course, I'll give you five million afterward if you agree with it." Tyler couldn't help but add that his face was so serious, and he saw how surprised she was as well. Maybe furious? Or disappointed? He couldn't read her well nowadays; she became a puzzle for him to understand.

Mary bit her lips. She held her tears down before saying, "Do I look stupid to you, Tyler? This is not what I wanted. I don't want any contract anymore." She growled and stabbed the lettuce with her fork as if she wanted to mince it into tiny pieces, never looking at his eyes. How could he ever approach her in that manner? Wasn't it as if everything was just a business proposal? When was the last time he saw her as a woman? As if she were a decent human being, like how a typical husband treats his wife?

"Listen, please read the contract first." Tyler thought he was doing this for his grandfather's sake, right? Or maybe not—maybe just to himself? Of course not! He did not need a woman in his life, nor did he need a family.

His convenient wife might not be the most interesting person in France, but she was someone who spoke with her heart. She never treated him like the others used to deal with him, like he was the master, and they were all striving to win his approval and trying to please him all the time. Mary was different. With her buttery sun-kissed-coloured hair and startlingly pale blue eyes, she had already been unique; he even nicknamed her in his mind as 'azure'. He supposed there were worse secret monikers than that; at least no one had yet begun calling her.

"Mine." Which was a lot closer to the truth, not because he was jealous; no, of course, he was never jealous; those emotions never existed; but anyone who dared to call her that would definitely pay, severely pay, because she was his, and his alone. And yes, he was that possessive. And he never wanted anything to happen to her either, so whether she remained at his side forever or he offered contract after contract to make her stay

At thirty-two, Tyler was a bit long in the tooth to be enjoying his first marriage, if one could call it an ordinary marriage. He was adamant about not thinking about relationships or giving any women an opportunity to get to know him. He devoted all of his efforts to his business and the needs of his company, leaving no time for serious dates since he believed that commitment would only lead to pain, deception, and grief that would ultimately destroy him. This was especially true after he had so many failed relationships—too many women to even count on—but he swore that he would never entertain any serious relationship in his life, nor would he consider finding a wife in the future, and yet Mary came two years ago. And yes, it was beneficial to have her as his secretary as well. At least she was as determined as he was to keep their marriage secret. But why did he not divorce her anyway? And what about her? It was a question he didn't even know how to answer. It was a puzzle he realised he didn't know how to solve.

But there hadn’t really been any other choice. Tyler doesn't want to be stifled in a relationship where a woman could bring him to his downfall, and the convenience he had carried with Mary was just his own way of dealing with the shareholders' trust and his grandfather's request. Two birds in one stone, he reckoned.

He certainly wasn’t ready for the child, either. Yes, he liked them. He had lots of nieces and nephews from his cousins' side, but he never imagined having his own, yet he needed to have one soonest. How ironic was that?

Meanwhile, she was lost for words. Mary wanted to just stab him with the fork. She was hurt and insulted. For five fucking million? No way! She would never tell him about the child, she thought as she held her stomach and silently prayed to God that Tyler wouldn't know about it. Not yet. Nevertheless, she needed to think more about her situation first. Above all, Mary knew he wanted an heir. Of course, this was all about the heir, right? Was he paying her 5 million to bear a child? Did he expect her to leave her child in his care when this marriage contract ended? Was he that insane?

Yes, she was poor, they needed money, and she owed Tyler about Dave's opportunity to let the world know about his unique arts, and yes, they had struggled for their everyday lives since her parents' deaths, with too many jobs and sacrifices, but she would never sell this child... Wasn't that what it was all about? The heir to the Johnson empire

Long before, with their straitened finances, she and Dave could manage the funds for only one of them to go to college at once. Renting a small apartment and an old beat-up Toyota, they needed more money than they could afford to spend twice. As it was, they’d had to save for five solid years to be able to afford Dave's college. And if he wasn't successful in his arts, no one was going to clap them into debtor’s prison, but they would have to look forward to a quiet life of civilised poverty in some charmingly small apartment. Often, the two of them were forced to celebrate their birthdays at the same time. It had been decided that the most logical way to save money was to buy only one cake for the two of them. Yes, it was already a luxury for them.

And growing up, Mary knew from the outset that she wasn’t the sort who would attract the attention of men. She wasn’t super pretty enough to overcome her lack of expensive clothing, make-up, shoes, and rich friends, and she’d never learned to enjoy parties. She never learned how to socialise and walked delicately, as if she had to glide. She used to walk fast or run, afraid of being late. She never had time to do all those things other girls seemed to know at their age. She always stood with her shoulders straight and tall, couldn’t sit still if her life depended upon it, and walked as if she were in a race—and why not? She always wondered. If one was going somewhere, what could possibly be the point of not getting there quickly?

As for Mary and Dave's situation in France, she didn’t even like the city very much. Oh, she was having a good enough time, and she’d met quite a few nice people, but a France season seemed like a horrible waste of money for her brother, who would have been perfectly content to remain in the country and find some sensible job and would accept his arts, but she knew that for him to expand his audience, they needed to be in the city.

But Dave would have none of that. When they lost their parents, she vowed to take care of him and bring him up with all the care and affection she had given to a child of her own blood. He could be happy and secure in the countryside, but she wanted city life so she could give him a better education. She had countered that there were more opportunities from which to choose in the city, insisting that he would be utterly miserable without his arts, and since Mary could never bear to see her brother unhappy, her fate had been sealed. She did everything to be able to afford his college, sacrificing her happiness, and so here she was—sitting in a somewhat extraordinary garden in a mansion in an elite area of France that was almost fashionable and not her cup of tea.

She sighed and was furious at the same time. She was about to snatch a fork and stab the man who just stared at her. "Mary, I need you to know that my grandfather's day is coming to an end!" Tyler shrieked, his eyes popping out at the unfinished contract on the table. "He is dying."

"No! But Tyler, why do I get the impression that everything you did was just a dull business proposal to you?" Mary inquired, clearly disappointed. "Besides, there's no way I'm signing that contract. I'll never abandon my child," she exclaimed.

"What?" he frowned.

"I'll never accept your five million pounds in exchange for my own child." Her eyes, which were typically associated with tranquilly, glinted sadly as she shed a tear.

"Exchange? Abandon? Why in the world would you think that? Didn't you even read the contract?"

"Why should I? It's clearly useless. You wished for an heir, for a child, right? But did you think about how I would feel? My feelings? I will not, under any circumstances, leave my child behind once our contract expires."

"Stop! Mary," his eyes widening. "What on earth are you thinking? I would never ask you to abandon our child, and I have no intention of divorcing you."

"What?!"