Christian did not seem fazed in the slightest by what I said, just as I expected. He remained unmoved, as if I was telling him about the weather and not him being a major stockholder in my family company. I did not know what I was expecting, but it certainly was not the answer he gave me.
A simple, “So?” He did not deny it.
My brows drew in closer in possible, my lips parting at how casual he was being over the whole thing. “That is more shares than even I do as a Montague.” I have 10%, just like all my other siblings. Up until recently, I thought we are second to my father who has 23% being the major shareholder for valid reasons, while the others are distributed amongst the other shareholders.
And yet, under the shares I found to be odd and had Amy check, I came to realize it all belongs to Christian Ian Kingston, easily making him the second largest shareholder in my company. He is being way too casual about this than I expect really.
“-you have shares under a pseudo name.” I added.
Christian shook his head. “It actually isn’t.” He pointed out. “Besides,” He released a huge sigh, “What is wrong with buying out your shares to be part of the company? Is there a law that says I cannot do that or something?”
There is not. He knows that more than I do, and that is why is he is being more causal about this than I like. And unfortunately for me, I cannot use that against him even if I want to. And I don’t.
He continued, when I did not say anything. He intertwined his fingers in front of him, his cool eyes pinned on me. “-tell me, Isabella. Why are you here? I doubt you came over to make a fuss about me owning more shares than you do.”
I pressed my thumbnail into my index finger, every fiber in me screaming at me to get away from this man, for I wanted nothing to do with him. But, I had to yet again remind myself of the position I am in, and that I am in no place to be all picky and choosy.
So, I swallowed down my pride, and leveled my expression before meeting his gaze with my unwavering ones. “I need help.” I vocalize the words out, keeping my pride aside and tuning the small voice in the back of my mind telling me I will regret this.
Christian held my gaze unwavering, his head tilted to the side. “Do you want me to sell my shares to you or something?” He asked, though his tone was light. He released a breath, leaning forward as he reached his hand out to undo his tie with one hand, and I hate to admit how he could make the simple action seem so attractive. When he took it off, he dropped it by the side, then met my gaze again. “I hate to say it, but even for you, I cannot sell it.”
“I don’t need you to sell it.” It would cost a shit ton, and I don’t have the time to process transfer of shares in such a short time.
He nodded slowly, seeming to already know I will say that. “What do you want then?” He asked again, his voice low. “Just the words Isabella, and it is yours. I promise.” Though he was still being casual, his promise seems to hold more gravity than I expected. His eyes, the eyes don’t lie and his told me he meant every word he said.
My stomach quivered at the thought, butterflies filling it as I felt my breath knocked from the intensity of his gaze. Pushing against those thoughts though, I released a small breath, preparing myself for what I am about to say.
A beat passed. Then another. And another.
I eventually parted my lips to speak, our gazes never once leaving his other. The words escaped my lips surprisingly soft, when I was aiming to sound strong. “Marry me.” My words were a breathless whisper, but it seemed to reach him because his brows arched, surprise clouding his expression.
I am certain he did not expect me to ask him that. Perhaps, to vote for me tomorrow? But certainly not marriage so I do not blame him for being surprised, even I am shocked by my actions. But, there is no turning back now.
He blinked, for the first time since I have met him, he seemed at lost for words. “What?”
His lack of words gave me the surge of confidence I needed, for my shoulders straightened. Reaching down I opened the file I had placed in front of him, revealing what is there before I straightened my spine again, our gazes aligning. Then, I spoke again, this time my voice was strong, and so were my words. “A contractual marriage to be specific,” I added. “Be my husband, for a year.”
***
Isabella Montague.
Christian did that thing of his, where he arches a brow, and does it so slowly, it would have one questioning their decision that earned them such an act. The lark that masked his expression earlier, and that laid back aura had disappeared, leaving a man stunned by the offer placed right in front of him, for valid reasons of course.
A beat passed, the tension in the air thickening as silence reigned between us, nothing exchanged but a look. Mine was filled with determination, unwilling to back down while his, it was penetrating, as if trying to unravel all my layers and see what my true intention is behind this all.
I do not blame him, I would do the same thing. Because ultimately, regardless of our weird relationship-if we can even term it that, at the end of the day, we are both in the business world, and know what will benefit us, and what will not. It is in our nature to only make decisions that will benefit us.
“Marriage?” He replied after a while, repeating the word as if to test how it sounds. He then released small, humorless laugh, “You want me to marry you?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.