Patricia was floored.
She stared at Oliver,pletely thrown off by what he’d just said. This guy–a big–shot billionaire like him–needed help finding a woman? Was he secretly into men? Or just <b>looking </b>for a trophy wife? Was there some…problem in the hardware department?
Her eyes drifted–maybe a little too obviously–down to hisp.
Mr. Padi’s lips twitched, almost like he was trying not tough.
“Thepany headquarters is moving <b>back </b>to Riverdale,” he <b>said</b>, voice cool and steady. “I need a wife–someone who can help me dodge social traps and business politics. Ms. Martin, you’re smart,posed, and know how to handle people. That’s exactly what I’m looking for. If you’re interested, I think we could be a good team,”
“Our marriage wouldst three years. I’ll have your back, you’ll <b>be </b>my shield. During that time, all the power I have is yours to use. If you need help with your enemies, I’ll handle it. If you’d rather do it yourself, I’ll support you. As long as we respect each other, I’ll give you as much freedom as you
want.”
It was almost too good to be true.
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A billionaire offering her a lifeline–it felt like stumbling across a bonfire in the middle of a blizzard<b>. </b>
Patricia felt like she’d just been hit by a miracle.
No, scratch that–a miracle this big had to be her ancestors blessing her from beyond the grave. Maybe her family tombs had exploded from sheer luck. <fn5488> ???? ????s? ???????s ?? find[?]ovel</fn5488>
“These terms are tempting, but let’s be honest. Precision charity is usually the government’s thing. I know you’re generous, Mr. Padi, but I’m not exactly someone who needs rescuing.”
“If you’re going to offer me something this wild, at least give it to me straight.”
Oliver nodded, totally unbothered. “I am telling you the truth.”
“There’s no rush to decide, Ms. Martin. I’ll be in Toronto for a while<b>.</b><b>” </b>
Patricia didn’t buy it. She racked her brain for any clues, but after weeks of scheming and sleepless nights, she was running on empty.
On the ne, it felt like something inside her finally snapped.
She shifted in her seat, resting her head on her hand, trying to catch even the smallest crack in his perfectposure.
But after hisst words, he just went silent.
She waited. And waited. And before long, sleep started to tug at her.
About half an hourter, Oliver called a flight attendant over and asked her to get the private suite ready.
He undid Patricia’s seatbelt and carefully carried her to the bedroom.
<b>13:32 </b>
“Pour out the water,” he said.
The flight attendant immediately dumped the ss Patricia had been drinking from.
God knew–there’d been sleeping pills in there.
The drama of the super wealthy was way above anything a regr employee like her could ever understand.
She’d honestly thought something scandalous was going to happen on that ne. Maybe a little action behind closed doors. But–nothing happened at all.
Mr. Padi just went back to handling his business in first ss.
He rested with his eyes closed for a bit.
And that was it, until the nended in Toronto.
Riverdale.
News about the vi fire was still blowing up online.
Chelsea, ying the part of the victim’s family, was busy meetingwyers and dealing with the fallout.
Every day, the media coverage kept growing.
No matter what happened, it had to be loud and dramatic. That was Patricia’sst instruction before leaving.
Chelsea sat in awyer’s office, facing the man everyone in Riverdale’s legal world called the Grim Reaper. She asked, “What if they never find any evidence that anyone died?”
“Ms. Ouyang, deaths and arson are two separate things,” thewyer said,ying out both scenarios. “Mr. Parsons‘ advice is to be ready for both oues, and to drag this process out as long <b>as </b>possible–two or three years, if we can. The police will need time to investigate, thenes thewsuit. Whether or not there were casualties isn’t the real issue. The real goal is to stretch this out.”