Though pride is not a virtue, it is the parent of many virtues.

- George Chapman

The heavy knocks echoed throughout my silent apartment. I actually thought if I ignored it, he would go away but who was I kidding? That man was surely persistent.

The sting on my palm had cooled down though I couldn't have said the same thing about his cheek. I wasn't a violent person. I never had been one. But it was just a reflex of mine. If a random stranger said inappropriate thing to me, there was no way I wouldn't do something to him in return.

And now, he was outside my door, making holes in it to reach me and probably, with all the intention of confronting me for his public humiliation.

Easy, Claire. Take deep breaths. Tyler Sanders isn't a monster or is he?

"Oh, you're not helping!" I stood up, muttering to myself.

My legs were going stiff, they cramped at the sudden movement. I shouldn't have slapped him. That was a overdo but it was done and now what? That slap must had been an ugly bruise to his pride. Yeah, that was why he was pounding my door. The way he was doing it, he would surely break it down and break my neck after. I didn't need another expense on my list nor do I needed to die.

I started walking toward my door and stopped when I reached it, my hand on the knob, my heartbeats accelerating, then I shouted. "You can stop it now."

And he stopped.

"Open the door now." His voice not giving away any of his emotions and I gulped, suddenly realising how much of a mess I made.

The door opened and we stared at each other. No one said anything for a whole minute. It was suffice to say it had been one awkward minute. Then he stepped a foot inside and I immediately stepped back.

Debating whether to let him or not, I had no choice on letting him in. He closed the door behind him. Looking out, I didn't see his bodyguard on the hallway. Thank god, no backup. But looking at his muscular body, he definitely wouldn't need a backup while wrestling me.

When did I become a mousy? I never cowered before anyone and this was my house, I definitely wouldn't cower before this rich man no matter who he was. Nope, not happening.

Back straight, chin up, I made eye contact with him and said icily. "What are you doing in my house? I thought, I told you to stay away."

And his pale grey-eyes turned darker, his fists curled into a tight fist. Was I an idiot to anger this man further?

"I told you I have business with you and I wasn't done when you ran away." He started. "I wasn't done when you inte--"

Suddenly, I felt like I grew a steel backbone because even though he informed his displeasure toward interruptions, I couldn't help myself from interrupting him. "And I was done with whatever you wanted to say. How could you even think I would do something like--"

Suddenly, he raised his voice and stepped into my personal space. "Quiet!"

His hard tone made me shut my mouth completely and I went mute. He looked like a muscular man. He could snap me in half but silly me, couldn't get the hint. I shouldn't have interrupted him.

"I told you not to interrupt me again. Are you always like this? You never let others finish and you make silly assumptions first then slap them?!" He bellowed angrily. I flinched and opened my mouth to defend but he lifted his palm to stop me. "Not a single word more, Claire! You are going to sit and listen to me without any interruption. I mean it, no interruptions at all!"

Then he gestured his head toward the couch, his eyes commanding me to sit there. As if I would follow his unspoken words. I glared at him. I was no dog. He couldn't command me like that.

"Sit, Claire! Now!"

I was wrong. He could command me. Well, it wasn't my fault. He could be scary when angry. What was so important for him anyway? I badly wanted to shout, kick; whatever harm I could deliver on him but I knew, it was impossible. I knew I had to follow his instructions even though I hated it.

There was only a two seat couch and one single couch in my small living room. If he already knew my money problems then I had no reason to be embarrassed about my home. Not everyone was born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Some had to work for it. Even then also some couldn't prosper. Example, Me.

I walked toward the couch in my home all the way glaring at him but he didn't even falter by my glare. I took a seat and he stood in front of me. Turning around, he dropped the magazines from over the coffee table in one swipe and sat down on the table.

Wait, this giant will break my coffee table! No! He better not break it.

He gave me a strict stare and said. "You're going to only listen and speak after I finish."

I rolled my eyes at him but he didn't even bat an eye on me. Yeah right, like that was going to happen. I had a bad habit. Bad habit of interrupting. I wonder how would I restraint myself from interrupting him. But I had a feeling it wouldn't be too difficult. I already became mute after all.

He took a deep breath and spoke up but I wasn't expecting what came out of his mouth. "I have a six year old daughter."

My mind screeched to a hold. A daughter? If he had a child already then why did he need me? I swear to God above, if this guy said something about a heir, as in a male heir for his business empire or something, I would punch his face right then and there. No matter how worse my hand turned out to be later on. Wait, where was the mother?

As if sensing the question in me, he added. "She lost her mother when she was born. It has been six years already."

His body suddenly became tensed as if talking about his wife was painful. Well, she was his wife. Ofcourse, he would be hurt while talking about her. He must had loved his wife a lot to still be hurt like that after six years.

My mind was still trying to comprehend that this man had a daughter before he threw at me that he was a widow too. After all the things happened with me from the moment we met, I was already with a headache.

When he noted my obedient silence, he continued. "She's just a six year old but no one could stop her daily tantrums. She doesn't like people that easily. She doesn't let the nannies I hired, stay long enough to get closer to her instead she drives them away. She barely tolerates my mother who has been with her since day one. And me? Half the time, she is angry at me."

Now, that was a pained look I never wanted to see upon his face. The realisation that his own daughter stayed angry at him most of the time hit me hard. "I don't know what you said but she instantly liked you, Claire, She likes you enough to call me daddy. I don't like being called dad. She calls me that when she's angry. She's just a child but she's a complicated child. Now, she started calling me daddy and I want to keep it that way."

Huh? Like? His daughter knew me? How? And daddy? Wait, what was happening again?

Confused, I stared at him expectantly. Who was his daughter?

As if he understood my unspoken question, he answered. "Little Ariel. You called her Little Ariel. At least that's what she told me."

I widened my eyes as recognition hit me deep. Little Ariel? Her sweet face flashed before my eyes and I could picture her warm, innocent smile. How could that girl be his?

I shook my head and nodded at him to continue. "When I asked her who you were, she said you are her new mommy."

My mouth parted on their own and a silent gasp escaped from me. My cheeks started warming up and I couldn't understand how he could behave so normally.

When his daughter was sad and alone in the playground, I approached her with the intention of just making her happy. I never thought she would get attached to me and declare me her mommy.

"Claire." He said. "My daughter means everything to me. I put in a lot of thoughts into this and when I said I want you to be the mother of my child, I didn't mean it in the way you were thinking."

He leaned his head down to be at my eye level since I couldn't look at him as he went on. Gosh I had to be stupid. All blame goes to my dirty thoughts. Yes, they had been bugging me since I met him. So, when I heard mother of my child, my brain immediately took me to the intimate side but I couldn't tell that to him. That would be like suicide. No, thank you!

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you." He told me, softly. I felt a finger on my chin lift my face up and my heart started thumping fast, the traces of heat from his finger spread all over my face. I could feel my heart racing at the first touch. Why was I acting like a blushing teen?

He cleared his throat and then uttered those words that started a new beginning for me. "Claire, I want you to be the mommy my daughter needs. She needs you more than you think. I can do anything for my little girl. Anything. Claire, I...I want you to marry me, be the mother of my daughter and complete my family."

His intention were slightly clear to me but still hearing those words out loud made me freeze.

What do I say to someone who proposed me? Wait, was it even a proposal?

I thought my life was only crazy but now it just got super crazier. I needed time. Yeah, time to absorb all of this. Time to think over all of this. Time to get my decision. Time to think whether he'd be helping me or I would be helping him most. Well whatever it was, we both would be helping each other in more way than we could imagine. As far as I could feel, the whole thing didn't settle in me yet. That was why I hadn't freaked out.

Tyler Sanders gazed at me intently, waiting for something. "Claire, say something."

Oh, he was waiting for my reply. Did I go mute all of a sudden? Oh right, I was already mute. I felt tongue tied. My mouth felt so dry. Wait a minute, I just realised something.

I looked at him and spoke up finally. "I never interrupted."

An amused expression crossed over his face and he chuckled slowly, shaking his head as he stood up. "Yes, Thank you for that."

And I realised another thing. I stood up as well and walked toward my kitchen. One minute later, I walked out with a glass of water and he was standing where I left him, with a confused expression on his face. I gave him the glass and said. "You must be thirsty after all the talks."

He simply nodded in gratitude and took the glass, taking sips. As if in a daze, I watched him put the glass on his mouth. His lips were full, a faint pink; slight stubble coating the skin above his top lip and over his jaws. I swallowed hard. This man just asked me to marry him.

Please, don't freak out just yet.

When he returned the glass, I placed it on the coffee table while Tyler Sanders cleared his throat and exhaled. "I'm waiting, Claire."

Rubbing my hands, I nervously started. "Um well, I don't know what to say." When he raised his eyebrows, I clarified. "I need time. It..it is too much. I mean, I just met Little Ari--Ah your daughter yesterday and today this....I need to think."

He couldn't expect me to answer now, could he? This was my life. Marriage wasn't a joke. This was a big decision. And it seemed like, he understood my hesitation because he nodded then he pulled out a black box and I widened my eyes.

Holy crap! He came prepared!

He leaned down and left it on the table before stepping away. "It's up to you. I won't force you to do anything. If you agree then there's the ring." I looked down at the box and this whole matter became more real to me. "And if you don't agree then...well keep it, I bought it for you anyway. And there's my card under it. Call me when you're done deciding."

I was gobsmacked. I knew when I woke up today, something would happen. I had a mixed vibe feeling for today and now I was confused whether this offer was good or bad.

Mr. Tyler Sanders formally extended his hand yet again today and I glanced at it. "You're suppose to shake it." He said, a small smile tugging at one corner of his lips.

Those lips.

His whole face transformed from a cold face to a relaxed one. This businessman had a great poker face which was quite irritating me. I felt like I was talking to a statue. But no, he could smile. Not a full blown smile but for now, a half smile would do. He was human after all. A small smile has its own wonders.

Since I was cooled down from my earlier rage phase, I lended my hand. His big hand swallowed mine and I thought I would melt right there. His hand was rough and warm. And I became a warm puddle.

And that was the last touch I had of him. Three days went away and I was still thinking, looking at the black box containing a three stone diamond ring which was worth more than anything I had ever seen.