Chapter Six

Seven days to find a bride.

He let out a dry laugh, grabbed the paper, crushed it in his fist, then uncrumpled it and flattened it back on the desk. His jaw tightened. "Seven days," he muttered, as if saying it out loud would somehow make it more manageable.

He didn’t trust people easily. He didn’t like depending on anyone. The idea of marriage made his stomach turn. But Nana wasn’t giving him a choice. Marry within a week or she would find him a bride herself—and he knew she would.

He pinned the note on the board above his desk, the words staring back at him like a countdown clock. This wasn’t just pressure. It was war against everything he thought he had control over.

Day One

Adam sat on the edge of his couch, staring at his phone. He hovered over Alex’s name before finally tapping it. A few minutes later, the door opened without a knock.

"Alright," Alex said, walking in with a grin. "You texted me ‘emergency.’ What's going on?"

Adam tossed the phone onto the couch. "Nana gave me a week to get married. Or she’ll pick someone for me."

Alex blinked, then burst into laughter. "That sounds like her."

Adam didn’t smile. "It’s serious. She means it."

Alex sat down, still half-laughing, and pulled out his phone. "Okay, let’s fix your life. Instagram search. Hashtag single and stunning."

A few scrolls later, he handed his phone to Adam.

Adam looked at the screen. Women in perfect poses. Filters. Beaches. Gym mirrors. All polished, all empty. "You think I can marry someone based on how they pose in a bikini?"

"You're not marrying for love," Alex said. "You just need someone who looks the part."

Adam handed the phone back. "You don’t get it. Nana wants someone who feels right. Someone she can accept."

"You’re making it harder than it is. Just pick someone. Say the right things. Sign the papers. Done."

But it wasn’t that simple.

Day Three

Adam went on dates. Coffee shops, rooftop restaurants, lounges with candlelight. He met a fashion blogger, a lawyer, a model, and two influencers. They were all attractive. They smiled, they flirted, they talked about his money.

By the end of each dinner, he felt more drained.

One woman asked if there would be a prenup. Another joked about getting his surname trending.

Adam went home alone every night, tossing his keys on the counter and collapsing on the couch. The pressure was building.

Even sleep offered no escape. His dreams were filled with flashbacks of his mother, the warmth in her voice, how she'd always believed he'd find someone who made him happy. He'd laugh now, if it didn’t sting so much.

Day Four

He sat in his car outside yet another upscale restaurant, head resting against the steering wheel. Another date. Another waste of time.

His phone buzzed.

"Adam," his dad’s voice came through, tense. "Nana’s not doing well. The doctors aren’t sure how long she has."

Adam clenched the steering wheel. Nana had always been his safe place. Even when everyone else doubted him, she never did.

He swallowed hard. "I’ll figure it out."

He didn’t say goodbye. He just stared at the dashboard until the screen dimmed.

Day Five

He was running out of time.

Two days left. His penthouse was a mess—empty cups, pizza boxes, and a laptop that had been on for hours. Dating apps, search histories, messages left on read.

He had gone through ten profiles. Sent messages. Had short calls. Everyone wanted something.

No one felt real.

His phone rang again.

"Adam," his dad said. "She’s asking for you."

Adam stood, grabbed his jacket, and left without a word.

Hospital Room

The hospital was cold, the fluorescent lights too bright. The beeping machines didn’t help. Nana looked fragile, her skin pale against the white pillows.

She opened her eyes slowly and smiled when she saw him.

"Two more days," she said, her voice soft. "If you don’t bring me a bride, I’ll pick one myself."

Adam sat beside her, eyes stinging. "You’re still joking."

"I’m still breathing, aren’t I?" she replied, smiling faintly. "You always said you could handle anything. So handle this."

"I’ve tried," he said quietly. "No one fits."

"You’re not looking for perfect," she whispered. "You’re looking for someone who doesn’t make you feel alone."

He looked away. "I don’t even believe in love, Nana. Not anymore."

She reached for his hand, her grip weak. "Then don’t do it for love. Do it for me. Let me see you with someone by your side, even if just for now. Let me go knowing you won’t be alone."

Adam said nothing. He just sat there, hand in hers, trying to slow the storm in his chest.

Two days left. And still, no one.

He walked out of the room quietly, passing nurses and quiet conversations. The world outside still moved fast,

still looked normal. But inside Adam, everything was shifting.

Something had to change. And fast.