Chapter 5

As soon as Dominic left the room, Knox let out a deep, angry sigh and dropped back on the sofa.

“This is all Avery’s fault,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair.

“If she had just shown up like she was supposed to, none of this would have happened.”

He had planned everything carefully. Marry Avery quickly, get Grandpa’s blessing, then go back to his normal life. Simple and clean.

But now?

He had a wife who ate noodles like a wild animal and fights like a ninja.

He covered his face with both hands and groaned. The company would soon be his. That part was good, but living with Isolde for one year and six whole months? Impossible. Absolutely insane.

He had planned to send her away after the wedding. Quietly and nicely. Now those plans were burnt to ashes.

Reeves walked in carefully.

“What?” Knox snapped without even looking.

Reeves blinked. “Nothing. I just came to—”

“Get out,” Knox barked. “Or better yet, stay. I need someone to scream at.”

Reeves stood calmly. “I' m sorry about all this sir,"

"Get lost!" Knox roared.

Reeves nodded. "I will Sir. But your wife might actually have stomach pain, remember?”

“Oh, crap.” Knox stood up fast.

He had completely forgotten she'd retired to the room earlier, complaining of a stomach ache.

"That’s what she gets for swallowing a huge bowl of noodles," he muttered, racing up the stairs.

They both rushed upstairs and knocked on her door.

“Hello?” Knox called. “Are you okay?”

No answer.

He knocked harder. “Hello?”

Still nothing.

Reeves glanced at him. “What’s her name?”

“I don’t know,” he snapped. “We’re going in.”

Reeves stared at him in disbelief. Seriously? He didn’t even know his wife’s name? This was either deeply amusing or absolutely tragic.

They pushed open the door. And there she was, not sick, not groaning, not dying.

She was lying on the bed, laughing carelessly, eyes glued to the screen. The TV was blasting a loud comedy show, with people shouting and running around in silly costumes.

Knox’s jaw dropped. “What the heck did I just sign up for?” he groaned, drowning in regret.

Reeves raised a brow, amused. Hours in, and the mighty boss was crumbling. Karma worked fast.

Knox stormed in, picked up the remote, and turned off the TV with a dramatic click.

Isolde blinked up at them. “Oh. Hi. You’re back.”

Knox stared at her. “You’re not sick.”

“I was,” she said with a sheepish smile. “But then I got better.”

Reeves raised an eyebrow. “That fast?”

Isolde sat up and stretched. “I didn’t turn on the TV, by the way. Mrs. Betty did.”

Knox squinted at her. “Did Mrs. Betty also turn up the volume loud enough to wake the dead?”

She grinned. “Maybe the remote slipped.”

“Slipped?” Knox snapped. “Slipped into max volume?”

Isolde smiled again, then added with a playful laugh, “Okay, okay. I just didn’t want to be alone in silence. That grandpa of yours is scary.”

Knox stared at her. “So you faked a stomach ache?”

“Yup,” she said proudly. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Reeves chuckled quietly, then whispered to Knox. “She’s not stupid. “In her weird way, she kind of saved your butt.”

Knox glared at him. “Saved me? “She just poured extra chili on my already-burning backside.”

Reeves raised his hands. “Sorry sir. I didn't know.”

Knox turned back to Isolde. “Do you even understand what’s going on?”

She shrugged, then flopped back onto the bed. “I’m not stressed, if that’s what you mean.”

That was the final straw. Knox turned to Reeves.

“Leave us. I need a moment with my… with her. Alone.”

Reeves gave a small nod and walked out without another word.

Knox stood there, staring at the carefree woman on the bed, wondering what on earth he had gotten himself into.

After a while, Knox walked over to the single sofa in the room and sat down.

Isolde swallowed hard and looked at him.

“You’re messing everything up for me,” he began, speaking calmly.

If talking gently would help her change her behavior, then he would try it.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, trying to sound innocent.

Knox rubbed his forehead. “I know you didn’t plan this. I didn’t either. But here we are.” He opened his hands in frustration.

“I needed a wife just for a short time. You offered to help. So why are you making it so hard for me? You're killing me slowly.” His tone was still firm, though he was hiding his irritation.

Her eyes widened. “Hard? Kill you? I didn’t mean to—”

“That’s not what I mean,” he cut in. “Your behavior is driving me up the wall. I don’t know how much more of this I can handle.”

“My behavior? But this is just how I am,” she said sincerely.

He sighed. “What’s your name?”

“Isolde. Isolde Weston.”

“Are you educated at all?” he asked slowly.

She nodded.

“Did you go to preschool? Elementary school? Middle school? High school?”

“All of them,” she answered quickly.

His brows rose. “All? Then why do you act like this?” He stopped himself before saying more.

“Is it because of the noodles?” she asked in a small voice. “I’m sorry. I said I would pay back. I was really hungry. I haven’t eaten properly in days.”

He stared at her. She didn’t seem to be lying.

“For days?” Knox asked, his voice lower now. “What about your parents?”

There was a brief pause.

Isolde looked down at her hands, then raised her gaze slowly, like she was about to say something deep. Her eyes went all distant and dreamy.

Then suddenly, she grinned. “They chose to leave me.”

Knox blinked. “Leave you? To where?”

She shrugged. “Somewhere very far away.”

Knox stared at her. Was this girl serious? Did she think life was a comedy show?

“And they left no money with you?” he asked carefully.

“I’m independent,” she flexed her arms dramatically, making a muscle that wasn’t really there. With a cheeky grin, she added, “I can fight off any challenge.”

Knox nodded slowly. Yes, of course. She could fight off any challenge, including humans bigger than her.

“Bravo,” he said, clapping once. His tone dripped sarcasm.

“Thank you, oh great gentle gentle man!” she announced like she was on stage.

Then she grabbed a pillow and squished it against her face. “So soft! It must be expensive. Are you really sure you want me to sleep on it? I might ruin its royal dignity.”

Knox felt his temples throb. Was that his blood pressure climbing? He should be heading for a blood pressure test immediately.

After a while, Knox spoke.“That old man is my grandfather. Please try to behave properly,” he said.

She nodded. “It’s just for a few days, right? I’ll try.”

That was the problem. It was supposed to be just a few days. But now, his grandfather had made it eighteen months.

“Hold on, I’ll be back.”

He left the room. Moments later, he returned, holding the marriage certificate.

“Read this.” He handed it to her and sat back down.

She took the paper and read it slowly.

“Do you understand it?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes. We’re really married.” She put the certificate aside. “But I seriously don’t want to marry you. “We don’t match at all. And I honestly don’t even like you.”

“Trust me. You’re the farthest thing from my type," he said flatly. “But it happened, so you will stay.”

“What do you mean? You can’t force me. We’ll get a divorce.” She spat.

“That’s the issue.” He looked frustrated. “If I could, I’d send you out of this house tonight. I’d end this marriage in a heartbeat. I don’t even like you one bit.”

“I hate you even more!” she snapped. “So give me a divorce.”

“I have another offer,” he said, voice calmer now. “Stay married to me for eighteen months. I’ll give you three million at the end.”

Her eyes widened. “Three million?”

“Yes. Or more, if you think that’s not enough,” he added.

She stared at him, not trusting him. “You’re lying.”

He sighed. “By now, you should know I keep my word.”

“Like a real marriage? Full-on husband and wife?” she asked, clearly worried. “Because I’m not letting any man touch me.”

“You’re not even close to my type,” he said sharply. “So don’t worry about that.”

He stood up. “I’ll have an agreement written. I’ll pay half the money now, and the rest when it’s over.”

“You’re serious?” she asked, shocked.

“My assistant will be here soon. Tell him how to send the money. You’ll get it immediately.”

He turned to leave.

“Wait!” she called, getting out of bed. “You just want me to carry the title of wife, right?”

“Yes. That, and show up for family events when needed.” Then he walked out.

She stood there, stunned. Everything felt too good to be true. She didn’t know how long she stood until someone knocked on the door.

She quickly opened it. Reeves stepped in, holding a document.

“Read and sign,” he said, handing it to her.

She took it slowly. It was exactly as Knox had said. An agreement that she would leave after eighteen months.

“How do you want the money paid?” Reeves asked, bringing out his phone.

“To my bank account, of course,” she replied.

“Wait. You have a bank account?” Reeves asked , blinking in surprise.

“Of course,” Isolde said with a small frown. “What do you think I am? A caveman?”

Reeves stared at her, eyebrows raised. A girl who slurps noodles like soup and begs bread from street stalls, had a bank account?

Something didn’t add up. Why did he suddenly feel this girl wasn’t who they thought she was?