Even with Matthew’s intimidating aura, when Valerie considered things, she felt like a total scumbag. After all, she'd pushed for this marriage, and he'd even secured an apartment for them. His attitude made her feel incredibly guilty, as her true goal was to use him and keep their baby.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Grant. I’ll try my best,” Valerie said. She'd decided to be a good wife to compensate.
Matthew furrowed his brow, perplexed. What was she getting at? he wondered skeptically. Try her best at what? Was she promising not to cheat?
“Again, if I ever catch you cheating in the next six months…” he said.
Valerie quickly interrupted, “I won’t, Mr. Grant. You have my word.”
“Aren’t you scared of me?” he asked, surprised by her smile despite his intense glare. His subordinates usually fled at the slightest frown.
Valerie found his behavior peculiar. Why does he seem obsessed with people being terrified of him? He’s not a monster, she thought.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Grant, but I don’t understand why you keep asking if I’m afraid of you,” Valerie replied, her brow furrowed. “You’re my husband now, and we need to make this work for the next six months. I intend to live peacefully with you.”
She looked around the apartment—it had two bedrooms, plenty of natural light, and a convenient location near her work. Her rent was due soon; moving in would significantly stretch her budget. If I move in here, I could really stretch my budget a lot further, she thought, giddy. Valerie lived by a simple philosophy—she never turned down a freebie.
“So, which room is mine, Mr. Grant? Or do we…” Valerie asked awkwardly, remembering his comment about her wifely duties. She wasn't sure if that meant sleeping together.
“There are two bedrooms,” Matthew answered. “I won’t do anything until we develop genuine feelings.” While open to some fun, he had no real interest in Valerie. Their previous encounter was an accident, and he didn't want her as a constant presence. She simply wasn't qualified to be his family's hostess.
Valerie sighed with relief, secretly pleased. She wanted to compensate by cooking or cleaning, but the idea of sleeping with him felt awkward. Little did she know, Matthew noticed her relief and found it unsettling.
“Alright, let’s get a few things straight,” Matthew stated firmly. “First, don’t enter my room or touch my things without permission. Keep it down after 11 p.m.—I need quiet. The living room and kitchen are shared.”
He continued, “And I have a housekeeper once a week. Otherwise, you’ll be cleaning.” Matthew expected Valerie to bristle, but she remained cheerful.
“Is that all? Okay, I think I can do all of that, Mr. Grant. By the way, can I bring my things tomorrow? And my hamster?” Valerie asked.
Matthew was speechless. This wasn't the reaction he expected. Normally, people cowered under his instructions, but Valerie seemed unfazed. Interrupting her, he said, “This is your home now, so do whatever you like. And you can stay tonight, since there’s a typhoon.”
He supposed he'd make the best of it. Valerie was his wife, so he couldn't mistreat her. He assumed being married to him must be torture for a gold digger.
His words unexpectedly warmed Valerie's heart. Coming from a family where she felt like an outcast, having her own place was exhilarating.
“Thank you, Mr. Grant. I hope we can make this work,” Valerie said gratefully before going to her bedroom.
There, she appreciated her surroundings. She made the bed, placed a lamp on the nightstand, and sank into the mattress, feeling contentment. No matter what life throws my way, I adapt, she thought. This arrangement will be no exception.
Mr. Grant may be tough, but I’ve dealt with worse at work, she mused. At least he’s easy on the eyes. But I can’t let him know about the baby; that’ll make the divorce harder. As long as I can tough it out for six months, it’ll be over.
Valerie stroked her flat belly. “Baby, don’t worry, I won’t let anyone take you away,” she muttered.
Chapter II
Across the hall, Matthew stared at Valerie's door, bewildered. Her reaction—no panic or tears, just calm gratitude—left him self-doubting.
He'd grown accustomed to fear for thirty years, even from his family. He expected the same from Valerie, but she was the exception. Her calm response threw him.
Matthew called Charles. “Prepare these things for me…” he instructed.
The next morning, after Valerie left, a briefcase arrived. Inside were documents detailing a regular job, a reliable car, a mortgage-free house, and over $100,000 in the bank. These were the essentials of a comfortable middle-class life—the kind he believed everyone deserved. From now on, that's the life he planned to lead.