I grabbed my keys and phone, desperate to get to the hospital. The doctor called to say my dad was awake, but he needed to remain in the ICU. I was thrilled Dad had regained consciousness, but knowing how expensive a prolonged ICU stay would be filled me with anxiety. I’d have to hire an eldercare attorney to help me navigate all the insurance costs. A lawyer would cost money. And I didn’t have money.
I couldn’t even think about Brad Knight. Was I really considering his offer?
When I arrived at the hospital, the smell of antiseptic clung to the air, sharp and sterile. Dad was propped up in bed, pale, his lips chapped, his eyes open.
“Dad!” I ran to him, giving him a big hug.
His mouth moved slowly, his lips trembling with the effort. “Angela.” It came out hoarse, but he was smiling.
“I’m here,” I said, my voice breaking.
“I… thought… I was a goner,” Dad said.
“You’re not.” I wiped away my tears. “You’re too stubborn to go without a fight.”
I wanted to tell him about everything that happened. About Xavier and Brad. About the proposal. But I couldn’t. So I just squeezed his hand.
“You scared me,” I said.
“Where’s Danny,” he murmured. “And Lucas?”
“They’re on their way,” I said.
“How many days…” he asked. “Have I been here?”
I didn’t want Dad to tire himself out by speaking too much, but I was so relieved he could still speak. “A few days. You need to stay longer.”
He grimaced. “Longer?”
The doctor entered the room, a solemn look on his face. “Angela, a word?”
I nodded, giving my dad’s hand a gentle squeeze before stepping outside.
The doctor’s eyes were kind. “Angela, unfortunately, while doing diagnostic tests, we discovered your father has suffered more than just a stroke.”
The air left my lungs. “What?”
“He has ALS,” the doctor said. “Amytrophic Lateral Sclerosis. It’s a progressive neurodegenerative disease that affects the motor neurons in the brain and spinal cord.”
“No,” I said, my lip trembling.
He gave me a sympathetic smile. “There’s no cure for ALS, but treatment will focus on symptom management and slowing disease progression.”
“How long,” I asked, wiping away my tears. “Does he have left?”
“The average life expectancy for people diagnosed with ALS is two to five years,” the doctor said. “But please don’t lose hope. There are clinical trials, which offer access to experimental treatments…”
I wiped the tears from my cheeks. My dad was going to die. Unless he could get into a clinical trial. He would need appointments, and around the clock care.
“I’ll give you a moment,” the doctor said, sympathetically. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”
He went back into the room to go check on Dad. My heart plummeted into my stomach. Dad’s insurance wouldn’t cover something experimental like a clinical trial. And I would do anything to save his life. Anything. With a deep breath, I felt my resolve harden.
Instead of dialing the insurance company, I called Brad Knight. He picked up on the first ring. “Angela? Is everything okay?”
“I’ve made a decision,” I said, fighting back tears. “And I’ll do it. I’ll marry your son.”
I clenched my hands into fists. “I can’t believe you’re forcing me to marry some gold-digger off the street.”
“Stop,” he said, lowering his voice. “Angela’s not a gold digger. She doesn’t care about her social status. I’ve chosen her because she’s good for you. She’s special.”
Good for me? My father didn’t fucking know what was good for me.
As if he could hear my thoughts, Dad narrowed his eyes.
“Xavier, I will not name you as my successor if you don’t do this. I want you to prove you’re worthy. Be the man I know you can be.”
Fury ignited in my chest. Becoming the CEO of Knight Enterprises was my birthright. And now it came with strings attached. I fumed, pacing around the living room. But this was a simple business transaction. Marry the gold digger, get the title and the inheritance.
Sooner or later—hopefully sooner—I’d get divorced and return to my bachelor lifestyle. Not that I fully intended to give it up in the meantime.
Who the hell was this Angela anyway?
Dad had arranged for our engagement photos to be taken in the garden of his Hamptons estate. I didn’t know who, or what, to expect as I stepped outside onto the lawn.
And then I saw her. A gorgeous blonde with Playboy playmate curves and an angelic face. Time seemed to slow down as she walked toward me. But then I got a closer look at my future wife. She was staring up at me with those defiant green eyes, and I recognized her.
The girl from the park.
“You,” I said. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Hi,” she replied, ignoring my insult. “It’s nice to meet you…properly.”
Under different circumstances, I might have liked Angela. She was beautiful, with intelligent green eyes and the kind of blonde hair women paid lots of money for, but hers was natural. In my father’s eyes, she could do no wrong.
She was a saint.
An angel.
All because she showed up with my mom’s favorite flowers and talked to my dad when he was feeling lonely. And he thought it was a sign from Mom.
I watched her with narrowed eyes. Why was she here? What did she want from me?
Angela saw me staring, and gave me a shy smile. Then she placed her hand gently on my arm.
“Hey,” she said. “I don’t want us to start off on the wrong foot. I know this situation is weird, but can we at least try to be nice to each other?”
I felt the tension in my shoulders relax. My annoyance and anger faded beneath her touch, and I found myself lost in her eyes. But then I came to my senses.
I wasn’t going to fall for this woman. Not a chance in hell.
POV ANGELA:
Xavier no longer wore a baseball cap and sunglasses. His chiseled face was clean-shaven, his hair combed back. He wore a deep blue suit, Armani, or something equally expensive, and looked like a model out of Vogue. And he was glaring at me.
Brad had pulled me aside just before Xavier arrived to remind me, “You can’t tell anyone about the arrangement. Including Xavier.”If Brad hadn’t asked me to sign a non-disclosure agreement, I would have told Xavier he was the last person on earth I wanted to marry.
Looking at Xavier was kind of like looking into the sun. The intensity of his gaze was almost unbearable. But my hand was still resting gently on his arm. He hadn’t pulled away, or asked me to move it. That was a start. A small one, but hopeful.
Then, without any preamble, the photographer walked up, clapped his hands together and smiled at us. “Wonderful! It’s golden hour. Let’s begin shooting.”
Brad’s garden at his estate in the Hamptons was decorated with strings of globe lights. Climbing pink roses formed arches over winding paths, as romantic as an Italian grotto. There were fountains, sculptures, manicured hedges and a pool. I’d never seen such a beautiful garden.
“Over here,” the photographer said, leading us in front of the blue delphiniums and purple hydrangeas. “Put your hand on his chest. Like that.”
I felt myself blush as I touched the hard muscle of Xavier’s chest through the fine wool of his suit. He smelled intoxicating, just like he had in the park.
The camera shutter clicked. “Good. Now look deeply into each others’ eyes. You’re in love!”
I swallowed, trying to hold eye contact.
“She needs a touch up!” The photographer called out.
A lovely woman named Sky had done my makeup before the photoshoot, applying contour and delicate fake lashes. She hurried across the grass in her heels.
“You need just a swipe of powder,” she said, dusting me with her makeup brush. “Here and…here. We don’t want you to look shiny.”
“Am I sweating that much?”
Sky laughed. “No, not at all. You’re human. And my job is to make you look poreless. There, all finished. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You’re really nice.”
Sky winked and hurried off. The photographer began snapping away, asking Xavier and I to pose in different parts of the garden.
“Now kiss,” the photographer said. “Go on.”
I stiffened. Xavier’s lips tugged into a smirk.
“What’s the matter, Fiancée? Afraid I’ll bite?”
I rolled my eyes.
Xavier bent towards me, and I tilted my chin up, expecting a quick peck. But when he kissed me, it was slow and sensual. I felt a spark of attraction ignite like a fire. I couldn’t help it—I closed my eyes and kissed Xavier back, wrapping my arms around his neck. Xavier grabbed my waist, pulling me close.
When the kiss ended, his lips brushed my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He spoke in a voice just above a whisper. “I don’t know who you are, or what you want. But I recognize a gold digger when I see one. And I’m going to ruin your life.”
