Valerie ended the call and hopped on her scooter, heading for city hall. Lost in thought, she was oblivious to her surroundings, not even noticing a car parking beside her.

Only when engulfed by a shadow and met with a pair of blue eyes did she realize a stranger stood before her.

Valerie's heart skipped a beat as she took in his formidable presence. His tall, imposing figure commanded attention, and she felt a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. His light gold, frameless glasses added sophistication to his stern countenance. His intense, cold gaze seemed to penetrate her, emanating undeniable authority.

Despite her solid 5'4", Valerie had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. "Damn, he's tall," she thought, "and kinda hot, too."

The night they met was a blur. Fleeing the next morning, she hadn't given his appearance much thought. Prepared to marry him sight unseen, she was pleasantly surprised. "Well, at least our kid will be cute," she mused, a smirk playing on her lips.

Valerie was impressed by his impeccable outfit, which screamed sophistication and wealth. He exuded an unapproachable elegance, reminiscent of untouchable tycoons she'd seen on TV. However, her attention shifted to his vehicle—a Chevrolet in an unexpectedly adorable macaroon blue.

The contrast between his polished appearance and the cute car caught her off guard. Surprise and amusement washed over her. "Didn't see that coming," she thought, finding it intriguing how appearances could be deceiving. She sighed with relief.

Extending her hand confidently, she introduced herself: "Hey there, I'm Valerie Warren."

Matthew Grant didn't return the introduction but asked, with a raised eyebrow, "You're the one who called?" His tone was frosty and unwelcoming; he didn't shake her hand.

His icy assessment made Valerie feel like she was undergoing a full-body scan.

"How can you prove you were the woman that night?" he questioned.

After a beat, she retorted, "That night we made love, you kept kissing my chest, leaving a mark that's still there. Want to check?"

Her bluntness left Matthew speechless. After a pause, he asked, "You sure about marrying me?"

His dark tone sent a ripple of panic through her, but Valerie was on a mission. She wasn't normally this forward, but she'd committed and would see it through.

"Sir, you said you'd give me whatever I asked for. Don't tell me you're the type to go back on your word," she said, her voice unwavering.

"Do you even know who I am? You're ready to marry me?" Matthew was incredulously amused.

He'd assumed this was a shakedown—that she'd demand money and leave. To his surprise, Valerie aimed for a much bigger prize: integrating herself into the prominent Grant family, pillars of Kranson City high society, renowned for their vast fortune and sterling reputation.

Kranson men were typically faithful, but that night, Matthew had been drugged and engaged in a wild romp with Valerie, who'd also been drugged. When she'd left the next morning, he'd assumed she was unlike the usual money-grubbing women.

Yet, here she was, brazenly angling to become Mrs. Grant—a notion that disgusted him.

However, Valerie seemed to have misread the situation. "Hey, no need to stress," she said. "Even if we get hitched, I won't ask you for a penny. We'll keep our finances separate. I take care of myself. Plus, judging by your car, you might not be making much more than me, so don't worry about me siphoning off your cash."

Her pride was evident. As a top-performing sales rep at a Kranson City car dealership, with a lucrative side hustle, she earned a respectable $6,000 a month.

Valerie appraised Matthew again. He was attractive, his attire high-end. But her gaze shifted to his vehicle—a Chevrolet she doubted would fetch more than $6,000.

"A girl driving something like this, okay, I get it," she thought skeptically. "But a guy? That screams low income. That suit's probably a front." A twinge of judgment crept in as she sized him up.

Matthew was once again speechless. He glanced at the car, realizing the implication. He'd rushed from his company, encountering people he'd rather avoid, and was driving his subordinate's car.

"She really thinks this is my car? And she has no idea who I am?" he thought, his expression darkening.

"You're not scared of me?" he asked.

Valerie shot back confidently, "Why would I be?" She'd dealt with deadbeat men before, and his presence meant he was a man of his word.

Matthew looked at her intently, and she met his gaze.

"Let's go," he said, straightening his collar.

"Huh?" Valerie hadn't caught up.

"We're getting that marriage license, aren't we?" Matthew frowned slightly.

Grant men didn't typically rush into marriage, but Matthew was determined not to go back on his word. He didn't want to be in anyone's debt or appear to be reneging on a promise. Now, he was more intrigued by whether Valerie was genuinely unaware of his identity or playing a cunning game.

If she's manipulating me, I can think of a hundred ways to make her regret this, he thought.

What Matthew didn't realize was that Valerie only wanted a responsible father for her child—the idea of marrying a Grant heir hadn't crossed her mind.

Hearing his agreement, Valerie sighed with relief. "Hell yes. My baby won't be a bastard!" She hastened to keep up with his quickening stride.