Marcus Van Levi could not fathom what form of business people could have at such godly hour of 3AM in the night; that too around the commercial area. He could not hear any noise –curtsy to the sound proof walls- though he preferred to. He could see the cars zooming past one another from where he stood on the 21st floor of the building.

The bustling sound of the urban life always seemed like a ballad to his ears. He inched closer to the wall to ceiling window in his office to get a better look at the ant sized speeding cars; longing to go out on a drive.

Unfortunately, there were reporters camping outside the building.

Perhaps, he had one too many drink as his face felt warmer than usual but he was certain that he was sober.

He leant his forehead against the glass; the cold surface soothing his blazing skin. He let out a sigh of relief; quite rare considering the last few weeks.

Silence rang through his ear, giving him space for breathing from those hectic days.

It would have been much more comfortable if he had headed upstairs; to the penthouse. But he preferred his office and the view it provided.

Not that it was a sight to behold as it was blocked by the sky-scraper in front.

Marc pushed himself off of the glass and plopped himself up on his desk. His eyes immediately fell on the stack of business magazine of the previous day.

Despite of having no credible source light in the room except for the light reflected off of the muted television, he could read the captions without a struggle.

It was an article he had found himself reading again and again throughout the day. And each time he wondered how his brother had created a mess of such degree.

The 'mess' had apparently worked out in his favor. Or so people were saying.

He didn't want to think about that anymore and instead tried to focus on the television screen. He absentmindedly flipped through the channels until his fingers froze on a particular one.

A familiar face caused his breathe to hitch and he hurriedly turned on the volume.

Unfortunately, he had landed himself right at the place he was trying to avoid.

Lim Marković- a famous wedding dress designer- appeared on the screen. His usual RBS still intact but he seemed to do it intentionally this time as he asked the girl what love was in her opinion. The girl smiled at the question confidently before opening her mouth to answer.

Marc's ears strained to listen but he forced himself to turn the television off. He need not know it.

He was reminded of his father's words; it was the first time ever he had asked something from him.

The company was everything to his father- Jonathon Levi. He grew up watching his father expand their business- that his great grandfather had built -bit by bit.

He both admired and feared the love his father had for his work.

His brother had already disappointed their father. He could not make his father go through that once again.

'The Martez Deal' was highly important for them to reestablish their image and keep the investors from withdrawing.

He had to gain their trust and secure the deal.

Even if it meant-

His eyes shifted towards a black velvet box.

His jaw clenched as he glared at the small box on top of his desk and wondered why he had brought himself to buy it.

He felt a heaviness looking at the box and wanted to throw it out of the window; out of his life even.

But couldn't. The previous hazy state vanished and his mind cleared up.

His brother's unnecessary favor was costing him a lot but he felt like paying the price. That scared him to no end.

He clenched the box in his hand tightly as a newfound anguish surged through him and dialed up a call he had been dreading throughout the week.

After a few rings, a voice spoke up, "What? What do you want?"

"I will marry her, Dad." He paused looking at the box still clutched in his hand, "I'll do just as you say."