You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 91

Patricia was floored.

She stared at Oliver, completely thrown off by what he’d just said. This guy—a big-shot billionaire like him—needed help finding a woman? Was he secretly into men? Or just looking for a trophy wife? Was there some...problem in the hardware department?

Her eyes drifted—maybe a little too obviously—down to his lap.

Mr. Padilla’s lips twitched, almost like he was trying not to laugh.

“The company headquarters is moving back to Riverdale,” he said, voice cool and steady. “I need a wife—someone who can help me dodge social traps and business politics. Ms. Martin, you’re smart, composed, and know how to handle people. That’s exactly what I’m looking for. If you’re interested, I think we could be a good team.”

“Our marriage would last three years. I’ll have your back, you’ll be my shield. During that time, all the power I have is yours to use. If you need help with your enemies, I’ll handle it. If you’d rather do it yourself, I’ll support you. As long as we respect each other, I’ll give you as much freedom as you want.”

It was almost too good to be true.

A billionaire offering her a lifeline—it felt like stumbling across a bonfire in the middle of a blizzard.

Patricia felt like she’d just been hit by a miracle.

No, scratch that—a miracle this big had to be her ancestors blessing her from beyond the grave. Maybe her family tombs had exploded from sheer luck.

“These terms are tempting, but let’s be honest. Precision charity is usually the government’s thing. I know you’re generous, Mr. Padilla, but I’m not exactly someone who needs rescuing.”

“If you’re going to offer me something this wild, at least give it to me straight.”

Oliver nodded, totally unbothered. “I am telling you the truth.”

“There’s no rush to decide, Ms. Martin. I’ll be in Toronto for a while.”

Patricia didn’t buy it. She racked her brain for any clues, but after weeks of scheming and sleepless nights, she was running on empty.

On the plane, it felt like something inside her finally snapped.

She shifted in her seat, resting her head on her hand, trying to catch even the smallest crack in his perfect composure.

But after his last words, he just went silent.

She waited. And waited. And before long, sleep started to tug at her.

...

Riverdale.

News about the villa fire was still blowing up online.

Chelsea, playing the part of the victim’s family, was busy meeting lawyers and dealing with the fallout.

Every day, the media coverage kept growing.

No matter what happened, it had to be loud and dramatic. That was Patricia’s last instruction before leaving.

Chelsea sat in a lawyer’s office, facing the man everyone in Riverdale’s legal world called the Grim Reaper. She asked, “What if they never find any evidence that anyone died?”

“Ms. Ouyang, deaths and arson are two separate things,” the lawyer said, laying out both scenarios.

“Mr. Parsons’ advice is to be ready for both outcomes, and to drag this process out as long as possible—two or three years, if we can. The police will need time to investigate, then comes the lawsuit. Whether or not there were casualties isn’t the real issue. The real goal is to stretch this out.”