The Proposal

The freezing wind whipped across the empty sidewalk, biting through Elena’s thin coat. Her legs throbbed with a dull ache after hours of standing behind the bar at the Onyx Lounge. Every muscle in her back protested as she shifted her weight, clutching her worn bag to her chest. The dim glow of the streetlamp overhead flickered, offering a quiet, fragile sliver of peace, but her mind spiraled into dread. Going home meant facing the suffocating chaos of her family. It meant walking into a house thick with drama, judgment, and the inescapable burden of the Wilder name—a label she would give anything to scrub from her skin.

She stared down the dark, deserted road, waiting for the rumble of the city bus. Instead, the low, predatory purr of a high-performance engine shattered the silence.

A sleek black sports car slid out of the shadows, gliding to a sudden stop right at the curb. Blinding halogen headlights swept over her, pinning her in a harsh, interrogating glare. Elena squeezed her eyes shut, taking a cautious step back. Her pulse spiked. Expensive cars pulling up to lone girls on empty streets never ended well.

The driver’s side door swung open.

Dominic Sterling stepped out into the freezing night.

The breath left Elena’s lungs in a sudden rush. He was devastating. Broad-shouldered and towering, he possessed a face carved with sharp, aristocratic lines and an imposing, dark aura that suffocated the space around him. He moved with a lazy, arrogant grace, shutting the door behind him and leaning against the glossy frame of his car. His piercing gaze locked onto her, pinning her in place.

"Hey," he murmured. His voice was a smooth, low rumble that sliced right through the biting wind.

Elena blinked, her frozen brain refusing to process the image in front of her. She looked over her shoulder, peering into the pitch-black shadows behind the bus stop. Someone else had to be standing there. The enigmatic, untouchable Dominic Sterling did not talk to girls waiting for the midnight bus.

His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. "I’m talking to you, Wilder."

He hit the last name with deliberate, mocking emphasis. The sound of it coming from his mouth made her skin crawl.

"W-what?" Elena stammered, her fingers digging into the strap of her bag. "Me?"

"Yup."

She stared at him, bewildered. "Why are you talking to me?"

Dominic didn’t bother with pleasantries. He stared her down and delivered a blunt, sudden demand that crashed into her nervous system. "Go on a date with me."

Elena froze. The roaring wind seemed to stop. She waited for the punchline, for his frat-boy friends to pop out of the shadows with cameras, but his expression remained unwavering and serious.

"What?" she choked out, her voice barely a squeak. "You have a girlfriend. I literally just saw you with her at the lounge."

Dominic pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his tailored trousers, casual and unbothered. He shrugged. "Not anymore. We broke up." He tilted his head, his dark eyes glinting. "Check the news, Wilder."

Her mind reeled, struggling to make sense of this bizarre alternate reality. He had been practically inhaling Genevieve on the VIP couches an hour ago.

"I don't understand," she managed to say, taking another step back.

"How much?"

Elena frowned, the freezing air burning her lungs. "What?"

He slowed his words down, treating her like she was slow. "I said, how much to go on dates with me?"

The audacity of the question pierced straight through her bone-deep exhaustion. A hot, fierce flash of anger ignited in her chest, chasing away the cold. Her jaw dropped. "You want to pay me to go out with you?"

"Maybe," he replied, his tone supreme and nonchalant.

"Why?" she demanded, her voice rising sharp and offended. "You don't even know my name!"

"I know enough, Wilder."

There it was again. That name. Her hands balled into tight fists at her sides, her nails biting half-moons into her freezing palms. She drew her shoulders back, lifting her chin.

"No." The word left her lips firm and sharp.

Dominic raised a dark brow. "What?"

"I said no." Elena glared at him, pointing out the glaring absurdity standing right in front of her. "What do you mean, why? You don't know me. You ignored my existence yesterday while parading around with your girlfriend, and now you want to buy me? I'm not interested."

For a microscopic fraction of a second, the arrogant smirk wiped clean off his face. A tiny crack splintered his flawless armor. Then, he moved.

Dominic pushed off the car and stepped deliberately closer. His towering frame bore down on her, shrinking the physical space between them until she had to crane her neck to look at him. The scent of expensive cologne and dark liquor invaded her senses.

"You’re a Wilder," he said, his voice dropping an octave into something dark, rough, and distinctly threatening. "Stop acting like you have any pride."

The insult hit her like a physical blow to the stomach. Her chest pulled tight, suffocating under a massive wave of raw fury and sharp humiliation. Her throat burned.

"Please, leave me alone," she said through gritted teeth, holding her ground even as her legs trembled.

Dominic stared down at her defiant face. He took a slow step back, allowing that flawless, arrogant smirk to slide right back into place.

"Three dates," he declared, his voice ringing with absolute, commanding certainty. "Five thousand, for each."

Elena gasped, her eyes snapping wide. "What?"

"You heard me. Sleep over it, Wilder."

He didn't wait for her to answer. He didn't give her a chance to scream at him or reject the money. Without another word, he turned his back on her, folded his tall frame into the driver's seat, and slammed the door shut. The powerful engine roared to life, vibrating the pavement beneath her boots. The tires screeched as he aggressively tore away from the curb, peeling out into the pitch-black street.

Elena stood glued to the sidewalk, alone in the freezing wind. Her mind was a swirling, paralyzing chaos of exhaustion, anger, and flashing dollar signs. She stared into the dark expanse of the road, watching his red taillights disappear around the corner. Her chest heaved with heavy, ragged breaths.

"What the hell?" she whispered into the empty night.