Chapter two
There was warmth.
And a voice —— soft, melodic, and comforting. A woman's voice, humming a lullaby that danced faintly at the edge of Goodness's consciousness.
She saw a garden.
Roses. Laughter.
And her mother.
Eleanor marwood, radiant in a flowing dress, knelt in front of a little girl with wild curls and tear-filled eyes.
" Don't cry, baby" her mother whispered, brushing her cheeks. " you're strong you always have been. But when time comes… let someone be strong for you, too."
Goodness opened her mouth to speak, to reach out——
But the image blurred, fading like fog under the morning sun.
She stirred.
The scent of clean linen and something woody—— cologne, expensive and faintly familiar—— filled her sense. Her lashes fluttered open. The ceiling was high, painted with gold accents. She wasn't in an alley anymore. She was in a bed. A massive, cloud-soft bed.
And then— she felt it.
The warmth behind her.
She turned slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim of light of the room.
Xavier Ashford was seated on the edge of the bed, his face surprisingly close to hers, watching her like he hadn't looked away once.
His tie was loose, jacket discarded. There was a tension in his posture—— like he wasn't sure whether to move closer or farther away.
" How long… was I out?" She whispered, her voice rasping.
"About seven hours," he replied, voice low. " you fainted on me. I should be offended."
Goodness blinked, slowly sitting up. " you brought me here?"
"No I left you in that alley for rats to find," he said dryly but his eyes softened. " of course I brought you here. What did you expect?"
"To wake up alone."
A silence stretched between them.
And he did something she didn't expect.
He leaned in—— slowly, deliberately, His face was inches from hers now, eyes flickering from her lips to her eyes and back again. There was no smirk, no smugness. Just a quiet intensity.
"I meant what I said" he murmured. " I have a proposition."
She swallowed hard, her heart thudding. "Why me?"
His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, slow and careful. "Because you're the only one I'd never let belong to someone else."
Goodness's breath caught at his words, and for a second, she forgot the cold, the fear, and the endless weight pressing on her chest since the night she ran.
She pulled her gaze away from his and steadied herself. "You said you had a proposition."
Xavier leaned back, the closeness gone, replaced by something more… executive. His expression sharpened like a man stepping into his boardroom.
"Yes," he said, voice cooler now. "I'm offering you a contract marriage. In public, we'll be the perfect couple—engaged, then married. In private… you'll keep your space, and I'll keep mine. It's strictly business."
Her lips parted, stunned. "Marriage?"
"It solves both our problems," he said, crossing one leg over the other. "You need protection. A home. A fresh start. I need a bride. My father's handing over the Ashford empire—but only if I'm settled and 'happily married.'"
Goodness blinked. "That's insane."
He smiled faintly. "No, it's convenient."
She folded her arms. "And what, exactly, do I gain from this—other than being paraded around like a trophy?"
His gaze sharpened, but not unkindly. "You'll have shelter. Security. A new identity, if you want it. I'll pay off your school debts, put your name on a joint account, and ensure no one from your past gets near you again—unless you want them to."
Her jaw tensed. "And what do you get?"
"A CEO title. Control of Ashford Holdings. And the right to claim what's always been mine."
She stared at him, unsure what that last part meant—and too afraid to ask.
"Why me?" she finally whispered. "You could've chosen anyone. Models. Heiresses. Why pick the girl you used to torture in high school?"
He smirked—oh, that smirk.
"You think I haven't been watching you all this time?" he asked, leaning closer again. "You think I didn't know where you were, what you were doing, who you were becoming?"
Her brows pulled together, confusion and something like heat flaring in her chest. "How did you even find me tonight?"
Instead of answering, he tilted his head and gave her a lazy smile. "You're still as dramatic as ever, Marwood. Collapsing in a freezing alley in the middle of the night. Honestly."
She narrowed her eyes. "Xavier—"
"Shh," he cut her off, reaching for the drawer beside the bed. He pulled out a sleek, black folder and handed it to her. "Read the terms. You'll find it generous. Especially considering your situation."
She looked down at the folder, hands trembling.
"You're serious about this?"
"As a heart attack."
"And if I say no?"
His smile vanished.
"Then you walk out of here with nothing. No protection, no money, and eventually… back into the hands of your loving stepmother."
She stared at him, heart pounding. The room felt suddenly too quiet.
"Tick-tock, Goodness," he murmured, standing. "The world out there isn't kind to girls like you. But in here? You'd be a queen."
Goodness stared down at the contract in her hands, her mind swirling with disbelief, outrage, and something else she couldn't name. Xavier turned to grab his watch from the dresser.
A knock at the door broke the moment.
"Come in," Xavier called, voice clipped.
The door opened, and a tall man stepped in—sharp suit, glasses, and an air of calm efficiency. He looked like the kind of person who kept billionaires alive and on time.
"Elias," Xavier said, not looking up. "This is Goodness Marwood."
Elias gave her a slight bow. "Miss Marwood. A pleasure."
She blinked at him, trying to process everything, especially how casual they all seemed about her being here—like this was just another Tuesday.
"We have to leave now, sir," Elias said. "The board meeting starts in less than an hour."
Xavier nodded, then turned back to her. His voice softened just enough to surprise her. "I'll be gone for a few hours. While I'm out, you'll be in good hands."
He opened the door further. An older woman stepped in—graceful, silver-haired, wearing a modest navy dress and a knowing smile.
"Goodness," Xavier said, "this is Martha Hale. She practically raised me."
Martha stepped forward, eyes warm as she looked Goodness over. "My, my… you're even prettier than he described. Come, dear. Let's get you out of those wrinkled things."
Goodness flushed. "Wait—I—what do you mean?"
Xavier raised a brow. "You think I'd let you sleep in damp, dirty clothes?" He smirked. "You're lucky Martha handled it and not me."
Her cheeks burned. "You—"
"Relax," he interrupted, clearly enjoying her flustered state. "I averted my eyes. Mostly."
"Xavier!" she snapped.
He laughed—an actual laugh, smooth and deep—and then glanced at his watch.
"I have to go. Martha will get you settled. Eat something. Read the contract." His tone dipped again. "We'll talk more tonight."
And just like that, he was gone—Elias trailing behind him, the door clicking softly shut.
Goodness stood frozen for a beat.
Then she looked down.
Her eyes widened.
The nightgown she was wearing was soft silk, pale lavender, delicate lace at the sleeves. Elegant. Expensive. It definitely wasn't hers.
Martha gave her a gentle pat on the arm. "You've had quite the night, dear. Let's get you something warm to drink and dressed properly. You're going to need your strength."
Goodness looked at her, then back at the door Xavier had walked through.
This wasn't a dream.
This was the beginning of something terrifying, insane… and strangely, not entirely unwelcome.