When she came downstairs, Theodore was already seated on the living room sofa.
After the maid served tea and snacks, Joseph spoke. "To be honest with you, Mr. Farley—when Willow was little, she lost both her parents. My wife and I raised her. All these years, she's been like our own daughter. I can't bear to see her suffer even the slightest grievance. The marriage arrangement with the Farley family should be called off."
From the start, Joseph had opposed the match.
The little girl he'd painstakingly raised wasn't a commodity. He refused to let her sacrifice her happiness for business.
But Georgia had insisted on the alliance, said they'd let Willow decide, then dragged out Victor and made her choose between the two men.
With no other option, he'd agreed to wait for Willow's decision. He just hadn't expected the girl who'd always chased after Victor to actually accept the arrangement.
The Hensons were a dragon's pool and tiger's den. The Farleys weren't any better.
Now that Jesse was also unwilling, he could cancel the engagement without slapping the Farley family in the face.
Theodore's eyes lowered slightly. His long fingers pinched the blue-gray teacup. In the pale light, his expression was unreadable.
He took a sip of tea. "I didn't come to plead for Jesse. I came to propose."
Propose?
To whom?
After everything Jesse said, he still wanted to propose?
Joseph and Georgia exchanged confused looks—then Theodore's next words made their eyes widen.
"I'm marrying Willow."
Willow froze mid-step, confusion flickering across her face.
Her gaze drifted to him.
Today he wore a tailored black suit. The gold cuff at his wrist caught the light. He sat there quietly, radiating an untouchable nobility from head to toe.
A man like this wanted to marry her?
When their eyes met, something in her chest stirred.
Theodore's brow shifted slightly. His gaze stayed level, betraying nothing.
"Mr. Farley, you're joking."
With Theodore's status, why would the Farleys let him marry a woman who brought nothing to the table—one who'd need his support?
His gaze was cool. "I don't joke about these things."
Joseph pressed his lips together. Surprise and shock warred in his eyes, leaving him unsure whether to smile or stay silent.
He'd never imagined any connection with the Farley family.
Theodore paused, then raised an eyebrow. "The marriage between our families is the talk of the town. If we break it off now, Miss Sullivan gets hurt the most. I don't think that's what you want either, Uncle Joseph."
The implication was clear: Willow's reputation was already in tatters. If the Farleys dumped her on top of that, her prospects—marriage or otherwise—would be ruined.
Every circle had its pecking order. Those at the bottom bore the weight.
Joseph understood, but still hesitated. "We should ask Willow what she wants."
"Uncle, Aunt—I'm willing."
Willow knew her uncle pitied her. Even if she never married, he'd support her for life.
But she couldn't be that selfish. Besides, this outcome was better than she'd expected.
Marrying Theodore was like investing in a high-risk, high-return project.
Even if this was just a stopgap for him, keeping her uncle's life's work from collapsing was still a win.
At her answer, something flickered in Theodore's calm eyes.
"I have a business trip in a few days. The return date is uncertain. I'll pick up Miss Sullivan tomorrow. We'll register first, then hold the wedding later. What do you think, Uncle Joseph?"
Joseph blinked. "Isn't that... a bit fast?"
Theodore's voice stayed even. "The sooner you marry, the sooner the Masons can turn things around."
No fluctuation in his tone.
But to Joseph, it carried a hint of mockery.
Shame crept in. He opened his mouth to explain, but Willow spoke first.
"Okay."
She knew the pressure her uncle had been under: the factory stalled, contracts bleeding liquidated damages, shareholders pushing to cut losses and sell.
If she was marrying Theodore anyway, what difference did timing make?
After seeing him off, Joseph watched the car disappear around the corner and sighed. "Willow, that was impulsive."
Georgia's expression was uneasy. "Why would Theodore Farley suddenly show up to propose? There has to be something behind this."
Joseph sighed, looking at his niece. "The Farleys are even more complicated than the Hensons. I'm worried you'll suffer once you marry in."
Even marrying into an equal family could mean suffering—let alone a dynasty like the Farleys.
And Theodore and Willow had no emotional foundation. If something happened, a man like him probably wouldn't protect her.
Willow knew they meant well. She stepped between them, hooked their arms, and smiled sweetly. "Maybe Theodore saw me at the banquet, was struck by how pretty I am, and fell in love at first sight?"
Joseph and Georgia looked at her, then burst out laughing.
"You really inherited your mother's narcissism."
Joseph tapped her forehead, but the worry in his eyes deepened.
Willow tilted her chin up. "I think you've got a bit of it too, Uncle."
Joseph's eyes widened. "Me?"
Georgia laughed. "Who was it sneaking out of bed at midnight to stare at himself in the mirror for hours?"
Joseph shook his head in denial and retreated inside.
Georgia followed.
Willow stood in the doorway, watching them walk in together. Something warm and gentle shone in her eyes.
Early the next morning, she pushed open the balcony door to get some fresh air—and spotted a Maybach parked at the entrance.
She rubbed her eyes, went back inside, and checked the time. 7:30.
Theodore had come this early.
She hurried to wash up and change. By the time she came downstairs, an hour had passed.
"Sorry, Mr. Farley. I kept you waiting."
The driver opened the door. When she got in, the man beside her was reading documents.
Today he wore a white dress shirt—simple, unadorned, but it made him look restrained, noble, elegant.
That face really did add points. In all of Harbor City, looks like his were rare.
Seeing her, Theodore set the documents aside. His voice was low. "It's fine. Did you bring the documents?"
Willow nodded. "Mm!"
Theodore gave an instruction. The driver started the engine.
The cabin stayed quiet. Neither spoke.
Willow watched the street scenery slide backward, debating whether to ask his purpose—even knowing someone like him might not tell her the truth.
But what if?
While she hesitated, they arrived at City Hall.
Theodore didn't rush to get out. He sat at ease and broke the silence first. "If Miss Sullivan has something to ask, ask directly."
Willow's eyelid twitched. She hadn't expected him to read her so easily.
One chance.
She turned—and crashed straight into his deep, fathomless eyes.
"Why do you want to marry me, Mr. Farley?"
