"Why do you look so down, Adrian?" Sean asked, offering a small, tired smile as he lay back against the hospital pillows.
"I'm fine, Grandpa. I should be asking you that. What happened? I thought you were getting better," Adrian replied, his voice tight, worry carved into his expression.
Sean let out a small sigh. "I'm okay. Really. I'm guessing your father already told you? The diabetes came back. It's not surprising for someone my age, Ad. Comes with the territory when you're past eighty."
Adrian clenched his jaw, refusing to accept that so casually. "But you were fine. You looked fine."
Sean gave him a gentle smile, the kind meant to reassure but only made things worse. "You're going to be okay, Adrian. My grandson is strong. I've always known that."
"Don't say that," Adrian muttered, his eyes darting away. "You're scaring me."
"I just want you to know I love you. Always have."
"I love you too, Grandpa. But no, I won't be okay. I don't want to lose you."
Sean's smile remained soft, but his eyes shimmered with something deeper. Sadder. "You'll be okay. You always are."
"Grandpa?"
"Hm?"
"Is something wrong?"
Sean looked up at him seriously. "Can I ask you something, Adrian?"
"Of course. Anything."
"You really mean that?" There was a flicker of something playful, mischievous even, in his grandfather's eyes. It made Adrian pause for a second, stomach tightening with suspicion.
"Yeah. I mean it."
"Anything at all?"
"Anything."
"You won't go back on your word?"
"Nope."
Sean nodded slowly, like locking in a deal. "Good. I want you to get married, Adrian. That's what I want. I want to see my grandson married before I go."
Adrian blinked, stunned. Then he rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, "Grandpa… is there anything else you'd like instead? Something more reasonable? A fishing trip? A new watch? A dog? I can get you a really cool dog."
Sean gave him a flat look. "No. Just that. That's all I want from you. You promised, Adrian. You said anything. Don't try to wiggle out of it now."
Adrian stared.
Speechless. Completely thrown. He never saw it coming. And too late, he realized he'd just walked right into Grandpa's trap.
Adrian wanted to say no.
God, he needed to say no.
But the words wouldn't come. He'd already made the promise and if there was one thing Sean Williams had taught him growing up, it was this. A man's word matters.
He hadn't expected this, though. Of all the things Grandpa could've asked for fishing trips, family dinners, even a damn vacation together, this was what he wanted?
Marriage?
Hell.
His thoughts spiraled. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Marry a stranger just to fulfill a dying wish? Fake it? Bribe someone? Find a rent-a-bride?
He rubbed a hand down his face, the weight of it all crashing on his shoulders.
"There will be someone by your side," Sean said again, his voice thinner now. "Someone to take care of you. Someone to love you when I no longer can. That's all I want, Adrian. I just want to know you won't be alone."
That broke him.
Because he knew.
He knew this wasn't about control or legacy or pressure. This was love. His grandfather's way of protecting him even in death. A final, desperate wish from the one person who had never, ever left him.
Adrian exhaled sharply, jaw tight. He hated this. Hated the ache in his chest. Hated how much he cared.
He looked at the man who raised him, who saw him at his worst and still called him strong.
And he gave in.
"Fine," he said, voice low, nearly a whisper. "I'll get married."
Grandpa Sean smiled.
Not a triumphant smile. Not smug.
Just soft. Grateful. Relieved.
And that… made it worse.
His grandfather's words kept replaying in his head like a broken record, looping endlessly, refusing to stop.
It was driving him insane.
I want to see my grandson married before I go.
He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead as he walked into the building, ignoring the greetings, the nods, the wide-eyed interns who probably heard about his latest tabloid disaster.
He didn't care.
He didn't have time to care.
Marriage? To who?
He didn't even have a girlfriend. Not even a friend with benefits. All he had were exes who hated his guts and a reputation that screamed "emotionally unavailable billionaire with mommy issues."
He reached his office floor and headed toward his corner suite like a man on a mission. A very confused, very reluctant mission.
"Good morning, Mr. Adrian. I've placed the meeting summary from yesterday on your desk," Bianca said, stepping aside as he approached.
He stopped.
Just… stopped.
His eyes slowly drifted to her. Up and down.
Bianca stood with her usual calm demeanor, clipboard in hand, dressed in her standard crisp white blouse and black skirt. Hair tied back. Glasses. Completely unreadable—as always.
Average. Normal. Not flashy. Not seductive. Not someone who tried to catch his attention.
And maybe that's what made it click.
She was quiet. Efficient. Professional to a fault. She never flirted. Never lingered. Never gave him anything more than what was required.
And she'd lasted two years. Two entire years, which was a record in Adrian's world of high-turnover secretaries who usually quit or got fired within six months.
She was the only constant he had in this damn building.
Stable. Safe. Real.
Perfect.
His brain short-circuited for a moment.
Is this insane? Absolutely.
Is this better than dragging a model off Instagram and begging her to wear white for a day? Hell yes.
At least Bianca won't livestream our wedding for followers and a collagen sponsorship.
"Bianca," he said suddenly.
She looked up from her tablet. "Yes, sir?"
"Marry me."
"…I'm sorry?"
Her voice cracked slightly, the first trace of actual emotion he'd heard from her in months.
"Marry me," he repeated, slower this time. "Please."
Bianca blinked. Stared. Like he'd just asked her to skydive into a volcano.
Adrian stood there, heart racing in the stupidest way possible, thinking—
Well… this is either going to solve everything.
Or blow up my entire life.
***