Chapter 5

The man standing behind Alice was none other than Alexander Knight.

His lips curled into a faint smirk as he gazed at her. His voice, smooth as honey, carried an intoxicating warmth.

"Mother needs rest to recover. Was there truly nothing you couldn’t bring to me instead? Must you disturb her?"

Alice froze, speechless.

Before she could protest, Alexander wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her out of the room.

"Son, have a proper talk with Alice about your marriage. Treat her well," Margaret called after them.

"Don’t worry, Mother," Alexander replied coolly before shutting the door behind him.

Alice was dragged down the hallway, her feet barely keeping up with his long strides.

By the time they reached the end of the corridor, the warmth in his expression had vanished, replaced by an icy glare.

Without warning, his hand shot out, gripping her throat as he slammed her against the wall. His eyes were sharp, like a blade glinting in the dark.

"Prisoner," he hissed. "You’ve been testing my limits, and now you dare show your face to my mother? If anything happens to her, I’ll make sure you suffer a fate worse than death."

Alice gasped for air, her face flushing crimson. "I… didn’t… know… Margaret… was your mother," she choked out.

Now it made sense—why he despised her yet insisted on marriage. Back in prison, Margaret had once joked about wanting Alice as a daughter-in-law.

Alice had thought it was just a passing remark.

She never imagined Margaret had been serious.

His grip tightened. "You expect me to believe that? All your little games—playing hard to get—wasn’t it just to raise your price? Did you always plan to marry into the Knight family and live like a noblewoman?"

Alice closed her eyes, refusing to defend herself.

If he wanted to kill her, so be it. At least she’d be with her unborn child forever—reunited with her mother in death.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

But then, his grip loosened.

He exhaled sharply, regaining his composure. His voice remained cold, commanding.

"My mother has two months left to live. I’ll fulfill her wish and marry you—but don’t expect me to touch you. After two months, we divorce. You’ll get your payment. But if you try anything, I’ll make your life hell."

Two months?

Alice’s heart ached at the thought.

She sucked in deep breaths, steadying herself before speaking. "So… this is a business arrangement?"

"What else?" He scoffed, raking her body with a disgusted look. "Did you actually think I’d want you as my real wife?"

The memory of that night flashed in her mind—the marks on her skin, the shame.

Of course he found her repulsive.

She bit her lip. "I’ll agree, but I have one condition."

"Speak."

"Open an account for me in a major city—any city."

If she returned to her hometown with a fatherless child, the judgment would be relentless.

She refused to let her baby face that cruelty.

Alexander studied her skeptically. "That’s it?"

Her voice hardened. "And I want $30,000 in cash—now."

That would cover prenatal care, living expenses, and a trip home to visit her mother’s grave.

His lips twisted into a mocking smile.

Greedy to the bone.

Even with the promise of a payout, she still demanded an advance.

If he gave her $30,000 today, would she demand $50,000 tomorrow?

A bottomless pit.

Disgusting.

He pulled out his phone and made a call. Within minutes, his assistant, Nathaniel Brooks, arrived with an envelope.

Alexander counted out $5,000 and shoved it at her. "You’ll get the rest in installments—if you behave."

$5,000?

It wasn’t enough for checkups, rent, or job hunting.

"Ten… ten thousand," she bargained weakly.

"Two thousand," he countered, his voice freezing her blood.

"Five. Just five," she pleaded.

"One."

Alice clenched her jaw, fighting back tears. If she pushed further, he’d take even that away.

At least $1,000 would cover a doctor’s visit.

"Fine. One."

He tossed the money on the floor.

"Play your part well, and I’ll draft the contract. Fulfill it, and you’ll get your full payment. But the allowance? That depends on your performance."

Alice dropped to her knees, scrambling for the bills.

Dignity didn’t matter—not when this money meant survival.

"What did you say?" she asked, clutching the cash.

Alexander’s lip curled. "Follow me. And remember—one wrong word, and you lose everything."

"I won’t mess up," she whispered.

She wasn’t doing this for him.

Margaret had been kind to her in prison. If these were her last days, Alice would honor her—deal or not.

They returned to the room, Alice forcing a bright smile.

"Aunt Margaret, Alexander and I were just discussing the marriage certificate. You don’t mind, do you?"

"Silly girl, I want you two married as soon as possible!" Margaret took her hand, whispering, "Are you happy with my son?"

Alice feigned shyness. "Very."

"Go get your certificate today. I want to hear you call me ‘Mother’ soon."

Alice squeezed her hand gently. "Of course, Aunt Margaret."

That afternoon, they stood in city hall.

They took the photo. Pressed their fingerprints. Recited the vows.

Even as the official stamped their marriage certificate, Alice couldn’t believe it.

She was married.