Love at First Night: The Billionaire's First Love-Chapter 17: Hey! Let’s get married.

>Mallory

By the time Mara pulled up to the front steps of the Bryce mansion, Asher had fallen asleep on my shoulder again. He always shut down after too much stimulation—and the airport had been more than enough for one day.

I held him close as I stepped out of the car. The evening sun cast warm streaks across the marble façade, making the estate look softer than it probably intended to be. Old wealth always tried to look intimidating, but all I could think about was whether they had carpets thick enough that Asher wouldn’t trip.

Mara hopped out first, waved at a few security guards, and strode toward the entrance like she owned the place—probably because she practically did.

But the moment we passed the threshold, a small army of attendants lined up in perfect formation.

"As expected," Mara muttered under her breath.

They bowed in unison. "Welcome home, Miss Bryce."

Asher instantly stiffened, pressing his face into my neck. My arms tightened around him instinctively. His little fingers curled into my shirt like he was bracing himself for a storm.

"It’s okay," I whispered, rubbing his back. "They’re just people. Nothing scary."

But I could feel the tremor in his body—the simmering panic he couldn’t voice yet. Mara noticed too. Her eyes softened a fraction.

"Alright, that’s enough," she snapped at the attendants, waving them off. "You’re scaring the kid. Go bother someone else instead."

The attendants scattered so fast I almost laughed.

Mara turned to me and sighed. "Sorry. I forgot how dramatic this place is when I’m gone for more than a week."

"It’s fine," I said. "Asher’s just tired."

And overwhelmed. And clinging to me like a barnacle. But that was our normal.

"Come on," Mara said, gesturing for us to follow her down a long hallway. "I put you in one of the guest wings so nobody annoys you while you settle in."

"You really don’t have to do this, I could just rent a hotel or somethin’" I reasoned but Mara just looked at me bored.

"I knew you would say that. Just pay me after you got payed." she answered.

We walked past ornate vases and heavy portraits until we stopped in front of a tall double door. Polished wood. Golden hinges. The kind of door that told you someone important—or at least expensive—was inside.

"This one’s vacant," Mara said. "Should be a good place to—"

She paused.

Frowned.

Tilted her head.

"That’s... odd."

"What is?"

She pressed her ear to the door. "I swear I locked this before leaving the country." She jiggled the handle.

I shifted Asher on my hip. "Do you think someone’s—"

Mara pushed the door open.

And I forgot how to breathe for a moment.

A man sat by the tall window, sunlight setting his fiery red hair ablaze in the soft glow. He was slumped sideways in a chair, long legs stretched out, one arm dangling while the other clutched a book to his chest in a loose, possessive grip. His head rested against the window frame, lashes surprisingly long for a man who radiated so much lazy arrogance.

He was... beautiful. In that careless, annoyingly effortless way some men were. The ones who didn’t try yet somehow made the world look like their backdrop.

He also appeared completely dead to the world.

Mara pressed her fingertips to her forehead. "Of course."

The man didn’t stir.

"KAIZER!"

He jolted so hard he nearly fell out of the chair, the book flying from his hand and hitting the carpet with a soft thud.

"What—why—the hell, Princess?" he sputtered, blinking rapidly as he straightened up. His voice was warm, slightly rough from sleep, and somehow boyishly bright all at once.

"Princess?" I echoed under my breath.

"She made us call her that for a whole year when she was five," Kaizer said, pointing at her accusingly while rubbing his eyes. "Pink plastic crown. Bedazzled. She cried if we didn’t bow."

"Wait–Who are you?"

"Shut up!" Mara hissed, cheeks flushing. "Why are you here? And since when do you read books?"

Kaizer looked genuinely offended. "Excuse you—I read."

"Yeah, Mr. Effortlessly Genius. Whatever." Mara rolled her eyes.

"And yet I learn things!" he fired back, then paused as his gaze slid over to me.

Or more accurately, to the small child squeezed against my shoulder.

His posture straightened. His expression lit up with pure curiosity—the golden-retriever kind that promised absolutely nothing good for its owner.

"Oh?" He leaned forward slightly, blinking, his height suddenly very apparent. "Did you bring me a wife?"

"WHAT—NO!" Mara snapped. "Don’t touch them."

I blinked, caught between laughing or walking out. A wife?

Kaizer ignored her completely. His eyes swept over me quickly but not in a way that felt predatory—more like he was studying a shiny new toy. He then leaned further down until he was nearly eye-level with Asher.

My stomach clenched automatically, protective instinct spiking.

But Asher didn’t hide this time.

He stared back.

Quiet and observing.

Then Kaizer tilted his head. His red hair fell forward, framing his face.

His eyes widened.

"Oh?" he murmured. "The mole."

He reached up as if to point, but hesitated at the last second, lowering his hand respectfully. "The kid’s got a mole under his left eye."

Mara blinked. "Yeah? So what?"

"He looks like you," Kaizer said plainly, then looked at her with exaggerated suspicion. "Is this your son?"

Mara threw her hands up. "I WISH!"

Kaizer turned back toward me, squinting as if trying to uncover a secret. "Really? Because the resemblance is uncanny."

"It’s not mine," Mara groaned, "and you think I’ll hide him if he’s mine. Grandpa would be so so happy."

"You’re so insufferable, get a wife!" she added. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Kaizer ignored her again—apparently a habit. He flashed me a grin that could probably sell millions in dental commercials.

"Hey," he said brightly, "Let’s get married."

I almost dropped my child.

"KAIZER!" Mara screeched, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"What?" he asked, genuinely confused. "You always tell me to settle down."

"She has a kid!"

"And? You think I can’t support a family?" he said, puffing his chest out proudly. "My company’s more successful than yours."

Mara let out a strangled noise. "Get. Out."

"Why? I live here."

"Not in THIS room!"

He just smirked. Mischievous. Charming. Completely insufferable.

"And besides," he added, glancing at Asher again, "the kid’s cute. And polite. He hasn’t tried to bite me."

"Asher doesn’t bite," I said before I could stop myself. Ruffling Asher’s hair who’s back at burrowing his face on my neck.

"See?" Kaizer said triumphantly. "Perfect. Approved."

"MALLORY, don’t engage," Mara warned.

I pressed my lips together, unsure whether to laugh or back away slowly.

Kaizer clapped his hands suddenly. "Great. So. Marriage. Let’s put a pin in it."

"No!" Mara barked.

He winked at me. "Think about it."

Then he snatched the book off the floor, brushed imaginary dust off his shirt, and headed toward the door—completely ignoring his sister yelling at him.

As he passed me, he slowed just enough to lean in conspiratorially. "I’m serious, though. Think about it."

Then he walked out, humming, as if he hadn’t just proposed to a stranger he’d been awake for roughly three minutes to meet.

When he vanished down the hallway, Mara let out a long, murderous sigh.

"I’m so sorry," she said. "He’s defective."

"I... see."

"He won’t bother you again," she promised, then paused. "Well. He will. But I’ll try to stop him."

A tiny smile tugged at my lips. "It’s fine."

"It’s not, he’s annoying, and that’s worse," she grumbled, then opened the closet doors. "Anyway. You two rest here. There are pajamas in the drawers, towels in the bathroom, and if you need anything, call me. I’m next door."

Asher shifted in my arms, sleepy and warm. I kissed his hair again.

"Thank you, Mara," I said softly.

She turned, her expression gentler than usual. "You’re home now. Just rest. Tomorrow we’ll deal with the... wedding sabotage. Or whatever."

I nodded.

Mara squeezed my shoulder, gave Asher a little pat on the back, and slipped out of the room.

The door clicked shut.

Leaving me alone in a mansion, with my sleeping son...and the lingering echo of a red-haired stranger’s voice:

Think about it.

I exhaled slowly.

"Yeah," I whispered. "Not happening."