Marrying The Supposed Gold Digger (Valerie)

During the Fourth of July, car sales surged, keeping Valerie at the dealership until late into the night

After her last customer left, she found herself alone, recalling that a typhoon had hit Kranson City that day. The winds had started at noon, and now a light rain fell

Valerie locked up the dealership and reached for her scooter keys, intending to ride home. But then she hesitated, remembering her pregnancy Reluctantly, she decided against it, concerned for the baby’s safety if the scooter slipped.

She pulled out her phone and called for a ride, the first time in a long while. As she waited curbside, her phone rang. It was Katherine,

“Valerie, it’s raining out. Let my boyfriend drive you home?” Katherine offered, sounding worried.

“No need to bother. I’ve got a cab coming” Valerie replied.

“Okay then. But seriously, Valerie, don’t be shy. My boyfriend is grateful for how you look after me; he’s eager to thank you in person,” Katherine

insisted.

Despite their brief acquaintance, Katherine’s cheerfulness and warmth were endearing. Valerie smiled. “You’ve never mentioned a boyfriend before

Katherine burst into laughter. “Well, I’m 99 already, about time I had onel–You’re 25, right? You’re gorgeous, how come you never mention any guys? Maybe I should hook you up.”

As they spoke, a black sedan pulled up and flashed its light. Valerie quickly stashed her umbrella and hopped in the back.

On the phone, Katherine kept pressing, “Valerie, we can’t spend our lives just working. We gotta have some fun! So, spill it. What kind of guy are you into?”

Half–laughing, half–exasperated, Valerie joked, “Alright, fine, he’d better be a freaking millionaire at least!”

But she didn’t notice the driver tense up slightly at her comment.

After finally shaking off Katherine, Valerie hung up, only to find the car hadn’t moved from its spol.

Valerie realized she hadn’t given her name and quickly said, “Sorry, I’m Valerie.”

Usually, when booking a ride, one just enters the destination on the app, gets in the car, and confirms the name and where they’re headed. She had been distracted by her phone call and forget.

Valerie apologized, but even after giving her name, the driver didn’t budge.

The dim lights barely illuminated the broad back of the man facing away from her, sending a shiver down her spine.

Rainy night, a strang

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Hernerves frayed, she discreetly took out her phone and started recording, feigning nonchalance as she attempted small talk. “The rain is really coming down tonight, huh? By the way, what’s your name?*

Whatever his intentions, she now had a recording. It was evidence for a complaint or, if necessary, to contact the police.

Unfortunately, she had no self–defense tools. If things turned sour, she planned to tows her wallet as a distraction and make a run for it.

Amidst her internal turmoil, Valerie was completely unprepared when the man in front suddenly turned to face her

The face was both unfamiliar and eerily familiar, his eyes cold and threatening.

Under the night sky, she felt like a little rabbit, helplessly staring down a menacing wolf, frozen in her seat.

The wolf–like figure smirked slightly, his lips parting to reveal sharp, predatory teeth, and said chillingly, “Matthew Grant, your husband.”

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