MARRIED TO A STRANGER

Anna's POV “Looks like someone tried to kill her, do you know who?” I blink to the sound of voices and the steady beap of a monitor nearby. When I finally open my eyes, I see two men talking and another deep, cold voice reaches my ears. “No, I don't.” I shut my eyes again, feeling a pain in my head. My head is banging aside from the pain from my forehead. “Call the police…her last location.” That is the last muffle word I heard before a face shows up above me. I turn slightly to face the most intense pair of grey eyes ever and it had my blood pumping rapidly, my heart stuttering. He is the kind of man who turn heads without even trying. He doesn't have a smile on his face nor a frown. His face looks plainly unreadable, yet goddamn attractive. His gaze holds a familiarity I can't place with those piercing eyes and I wonder if we know each other. “Hey, are you okay?” His question jerks me back to life and I realize something isn't right. I dart my eyes away from his and glance around. There is a strip attached to my veins. White walls and the smell of antiseptic whiff psst my nostril and it hits me. I'm in a hospital. Wait, what happened? I try to sit upright but I fall back on the bed with a wince leaving my lips. Instinctively, he grabs my hand and help me sit up slowly just as I notice there is another man beside me in a white lab coat with a stethoscope hanging lazily around his neck, confirming my suspicions of being in a hospital. Still, I ask, my voice barely in a whisper. “Where am I?” The two of them exchange a knowing look before the stranger asks. “Will you please check her?” The doctor nods and begins to examine my heartbeat with the stethoscope. While he is examining me, I keep staring at the stranger, wondering who he is, what happened to me and why he is here with me. I begin to think of why I am here in the first place. And suddenly, it dawns on me. “Don't you remember anything? What happened?” The man inquire with curiosity as soon as the doctor moves back. When I don't say a word, he turns to the doctor squarely. “She is fine. The Benzodiazepines in her system has been flushed out, but she needs to be placed on bed rest for the rest of the day to check if she's fully out of danger.” Benzodiazepines? What the hell?! I watch the man nod his head at the doctor who walks out after a few more instructions. “What does he mean by that? Was…was I drugged?” I am deeply scared of thr possibility of that. “What the hell happened?” He stretches a phone at me and I see it is mine. Broken beyond damage. When I hold the phone in front of me, my appearance shows on the screen and I see the small bandage on my forehead. Panic seizes my chest as another pain shoots through me instantly. “You were in a car accident,” the stranger sits next to me after dragging a chair closer to my bed. “And it turned out you were drugged.” “What?” I exclaim in disbelief, my eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Your car brake was tampered with so it failed but I was lucky to be passing by when I saw your car almost off the cliff,” he completes and my heart darts forward again in fright. Did I just go through a near-death experience? My heart is pounding so hard, I can hear the sound, as I process it all. I always have the boys check my car before heading to work, how can my car brake fail and none of them figured that out before I left home? “Is there anyone who would want you dead?” The next question that rolled off his lips makes me gasps loudly, and I stare at him in silence. If I was asked this question a day or two days ago, I would have said a loud no. But now I am not sure I am confident to say no one wants me dead. Warren and I are supposed to be married in two weeks. But this morning, I found him having s*x with my step-sister, Sophia. Sophia left immediately I caught them and Warren wouldn't say a word to me despite my confrontation. When I realize he wasn't remorseful about his act, I left his place and hurry back home, hoping to see Sophia. Sophia wasn't home by the time I got in. Then I decided to leave for work. I knew I was going to lose my mind trying to figure out what went wrong if I stayed back at home. Now, I remember becoming drowsy immediately after taking a drink of the coffee I saw in the living room. I was thirsty and that was the only thing I took before jumping back into the car and driving off. That was the last thing I remembered. “I can help you if you want to. Just tell me whatever it is you remember,” the man insist, making me spare him another quick glance. Is he a police officer or what? I was desperate, hence the hurt. Warren and I need to be married for me to inherit my father's company. That is his only legacy, and if I don't get married in the next two weeks, I will lose it all to Sophia and her mother. Warren knows all of this because I was honest with him from the start. I thought we were both on the same boat_not getting married meant losing something we both valued. Now that I think of it, Warren doesn't need me to get his company. What he needs is just a woman, and Sophia could be that woman. Sophia, on the other hand needs to get me out of the picture to get both Warren and the company. “Were you coming from home?” The stranger asks me again, jerking me out of my reverie. Slowly, I shake my head. “Oh, where were you coming from?” I don’t reply and I don't look away from his intense gaze. The fact that Sophia and Warren were the last people I saw is enough evidence. Those two are the only people who would want me dead, including my step-mother. I was so worried about our wedding plans getting ruined that I was willing to take him back if only he would apologize to me. But now, he can go to hell for all I care. Apparantly, not only does he not want me anymore, but he also wants me dead. However, I have to look for a way not to lose my inheritance. That is the only thing that remains of my father. That is his legacy and I will protect it eith everything I can. All I need to do right now is to get married? But to who? Warren is the only man I have ever been with and we’ve been together for two years. “Hey.” The stranger waves a hand in my face. “If you don't feel comfortable with me, I could call the police instead.” He brings out his phone, looking up at me for approval. But my mind is elsewhere. I am staring at him, from his messy but styled hair to his broad-shoulder built like a brick wall, to his piercing eyes, chiseled jawlines, down to the white shirt hugging his muscled body and finally his shiny black shoe. He looks like a gym instructor or an investigator. So I nod my head in approval. He will do. “OK, let's call the police then,” I hear him mutter, taking my nodding for an approval to call the police. “No!’ I grab his hands to stop him from dialing the number, my hands melting into his large hands. “No?” He asks, brows furrowed. “No,” I repeat loudly. “I want something else.” He brows rose high in confusion before asking. “What do you want?” “Marry me!” I blurt out quickly with my heart pounding, my body trembling with the excitement of marrying a total stranger to get what I need. To get back at Warren and Sophie and most importantly, to get my inheritance. “What?!” He exclaims loudly in disbelief. I nod intermittently, more convinced of my impulsive decision. “Will you marry me?”