Excuse Me, Sir. Shall We Get Married?

Five minutes later, Andrea was already being led to Harold's study.

She hadn't planned to stay long, so the summons was more than welcome, though she kept her expression neutral.

After her grandfather's death, Harold had taken control of the Smith family, calling all the shots. Now, inside his study, Andrea sat across from Harold and Grace, her patience wearing thin.

Harold wasted no time. "Andrea, the Caddells have sent a marriage proposal. Accept it. The third young master is a fine man and owns shares in the Empire Conglomerate."

Grace chimed in quickly. "Say yes, and you'll restore your father's reputation and gain power as the first young mistress of the Caddell family."

Andrea's eyes went cold. So, they brought her here to force a marriage? Six years ago, the Smiths had publicly disowned her, ruining her reputation. Now they wanted to use her again?

Harold continued, ignoring her reaction. "Accept the marriage, and the Smith family will announce your return. You'll also take over your mother's company—once you're married."

Andrea's anger flared. She didn't remember any clause in her mother's will that required her to marry to take control of the company. Her voice was steady, cold. "No."

Harold blinked, stunned. He hadn't expected her refusal. "What do you mean, no?"

Andrea leaned back, arms crossed. "I won't marry the third master of the Caddells."

"Why?" Grace demanded, her face painted with too much makeup.

A slow, dangerous smile spread across Andrea's lips as she raised her left hand, showing off a diamond ring. "Because I'm already married."

Silence. Harold and Grace were too shocked to speak. Andrea stood and excused herself, walking out of the study. Halfway to the door, she was blocked by her stepsister, Jane.

Jane sneered. "Andrea, it's been a long time. You've changed... a lot."

Andrea's smile was ice. "And you haven't changed at all."

Jane didn't like that. "How have you been? I see the bastard didn't make it."

Andrea's reply was a hiss. "It's none of your business."

Jane chuckled, delighted to have gotten under Andrea's skin. "Who knows what that child would've become if it had survived? If you ask me, I'm glad the bast—"

"Say it again," Andrea whispered, "and I'll leave a mark on your face."

Jane paled, swallowing her words. Andrea walked off without looking back. She'd had enough of them. As she exited the mansion, she was resolute.

The Smiths had wasted no time trying to control her again, but this time, she wasn't the powerless girl they had tossed aside.

At the hotel, Andrea headed straight to the daycare center to pick up Christine. The sight of her daughter playing eased the tension in her shoulders.

"Mommy!" Christine ran over, hugging Andrea's legs.

Andrea knelt down, hugging her tightly. "Did you have fun, sweetie?"

Christine nodded eagerly. "Yes! I made new friends!"

"I'm glad," Andrea replied, though her mind was still on the Smiths. Back in their room, Andrea listened to Christine chatter about her day, but her thoughts were on what she'd learned at the mansion.

A phone buzzed on the bedside table, pulling her attention. An unknown number. Her brows furrowed—she wasn't expecting a call.

"Hello?"

"Andrea Pierce?" A deep, unfamiliar voice.

"Who is this?" she asked, her tone placid.

A pause, then, "I have information about your mother's company. Meet me at the Garden Café in an hour. Come alone."

The line went dead. Andrea stared at the phone. Who could this be?

Christine's voice broke through her thoughts. "Mommy, are you okay?"

"Yes, sweetie." Andrea forced a smile. "Mommy just has to go out for a bit."

Christine pouted. "Can I come with you?"

"Not this time," Andrea said softly, kissing her forehead. After settling Christine in with the hotel daycare, Andrea quickly changed and left the room.

The ride to the Garden Café felt like an eternity. Her mind kept running with possibilities of who the caller was. When she arrived, the café was moderately busy. She spotted a man alone in a corner, his face partially hidden by a fedora.

"Andrea Pierce?" he asked as she approached.

"Yes. And you are?"

"Someone who knew your mother well," he replied, gesturing for her to sit.

Andrea sat, her eyes narrowing. "You said you had information about my mother's company."

The man leaned in, lowering his voice. "Your mother was involved in a secret project—something Harold's been trying to bury."

Andrea's pulse quickened. "What project?"

The man pulled out an envelope, sliding it across the table. "Details are inside. Be careful—Harold will do anything to keep this quiet."

Andrea picked up the envelope. "Why tell me? What's in it for you?"

The man smiled coldly. "Let's just say I have my reasons. You're not the only one who wants Harold to pay."

"What do you expect me to do with this?"

"That's up to you. But Royal Age Industries is just a tip of the iceberg."

With that, the man stood up and walked out of the café, leaving Andrea lost in thought. After a while, she picked up the envelope and walked out of the café.

Outside, Andrea was about to get a taxi when her eyes caught sight of talk figure standing a little far off from her. She couldn't help complimenting the blue suit on the man's body within her, his long, straight legs, and his perfectly polished, black leather shoes.

Even from where he stood, with a phone to his ear, the man possessed an aura akin to royalty.

After complimenting his outfit for a while within her, Andrea turned her focus to the road to get a cab. Just then, the man's voice slightly raised and she heard what he was saying.

"I don't care what you do, Edward, find me a wife! I cannot risk it anymore. I don't care who she is, just find me someone. Anyone!"

Andrea paused and once more, turned in the man's direction. Was he so eager to get married that he was willing to marry just anyone?

With that, a thought came to Andrea's mind. Turning on her heels, she made her way to where the man stood and softly said, "Excuse me, sir. Shall we get married?"