chapter 2 :- proposal

Los Angeles, One Month Later

Stella quickly fell into a routine at the Salvatore estate. Mornings began with breakfast in the solarium, followed by homeschooling lessons tailored to Ava’s quiet intelligence. Afternoons were filled with art projects, storytelling, and sometimes just lying in the grass naming cloud shapes. In the evenings, Dominic would join them for dinner—briefly, always dressed sharply even at home, always carrying the weight of a hundred decisions in his shoulders.

He wasn’t warm. But he wasn’t cold, either. He was watchful. Respectful of her space. Protective of Ava. Sometimes he would sit in on their reading sessions, listening in silence, as if absorbing the softness he had long forgotten. He rarely smiled. But when he did, even for a second, it made her chest tighten in confusing ways.

One evening, after Ava had gone to bed, Stella found herself in the library—one of the only rooms in the mansion that felt lived-in. She was curled up on the leather couch, sipping hot cocoa, flipping through a picture book she’d found tucked between two thick volumes on economics. She didn’t notice Dominic enter until he spoke.

“I have a proposal for you.”

She jumped, nearly spilling her drink. “Geez. Could you wear a bell or something?”

A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up.”

He stepped closer, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a folder—not unlike the one from her first day. He sat in the armchair across from her, placed the folder on the table, and leaned forward.

“I need you to marry me.”

There was a long pause.

She blinked. “I’m sorry—what?”

“Just on paper. It’s for Ava.”

She stared at him like he’d grown horns. “Are you serious?”

“Very.”

He opened the folder. Inside was another contract. Simple. Direct. Marriage agreement. No romance, no legal claim to assets, just a strategic move to strengthen his case for permanent custody of Ava.

Stella set her mug down slowly. “Okay, pause. Why would I need to marry you for that?”

“My late brother’s ex is contesting my custody. She’s claiming instability in Ava’s home life because she’s being raised by a single man with no immediate maternal figure. She wants Ava back—for the child support, not the child.”

“And you think making me your pretend wife fixes that?”

“It would look better in court. More stable. Traditional. And… Ava already sees you as family.”

The words landed with weight. Ava. Sweet, giggly Ava who had taken Stella’s hand the second day and said, “You’re my favorite grown-up.” Stella adored that little girl more than she expected—more than she realized until that moment.

But still.

“This is crazy,” she said. “People don’t just ask for fake marriages over hot cocoa.”

“Desperate times,” he replied. “And it’s not fake in the eyes of the court. It’ll be legal. But temporary. One year, maybe two. Just long enough to secure the adoption. After that, we can quietly divorce.”

“And what happens if it leaks to the press?” she asked. “You’re a public figure.”

“I’ll handle it.”

She stood up, pacing. “This is insane. This is… I mean, what would people think?”

He watched her calmly. “They’ll think I’m finally settling down. That Ava’s found a mother. That maybe—just maybe—I’m capable of love.”

Stella stopped. Her heart skipped.

“You’re not,” she said quietly. “Capable of love, I mean.”

His eyes darkened. “Ava’s proof I care deeply. But love… romantic love… That’s not part of the deal.”

Stella looked at the contract again. The paper was crisp. The offer, surreal. Her head said run. Her heart whispered Ava’s name.

And her lips, despite everything, said:

“I’ll think about it.”

Dominic stood, gathering the folder. “I’ll need your answer soon. The hearing is in three weeks.”

As he left the room, his voice drifted back: