His Homeless contract bride

Amelia's pov “If I spend my last twenty dollars tonight, I'll have nothing to eat tomorrow.” I stood under the cracked roof of a closed pharmacy. It was raining. Somewhere behind me, the shelter's kitchen light was still on. If I hurried, I might catch the last of the soup before the pantry gets locked. I turned. Half a block down, an old man in a soaked coat had folded to the ground beside a parked car, one hand still stretched toward the door handle he hadn't reached in time. I ran towards him. "Sir? Sir, can you hear me?" I dropped to my knees beside him." Heart," he managed. "Pills. Left pocket." My hands were shaking, but they didn't stop moving. I found the small orange bottle, popped the cap, and tipped a pill into his palm. "Here. Can you swallow this dry, or do you need water?"" Water," he rasped. There was no water. There was, however, a twenty-dollar bill in my pocket and a convenience store on the corner that never closed." Don't move," I said, running towards the store. I was back in under two minutes, "Small sips," I told him, cracking the cap and tilting it to his mouth. "Not too fast." He drank. "You didn't have to do that," he said, once his breathing had evened out." You were dying on a sidewalk. I wasn't going to stand there and watch."" Most people would have called for help and kept walking."" Most people have somewhere warm to walk to." I kept my voice even. "I didn't have anywhere else to be." He studied me, "What's your name?" I hesitated. "Amelia," I said finally." Just Amelia?"" Just Amelia's all you're getting from someone you met four minutes ago."" Fair enough,” he smiled. Two black SUVs pulled up so fast, doors opened before the vehicles had fully stopped. Men in dark coats were moving with an urgency that told me exactly how much this man mattered to somebody." Mr. Kingsley!" One of them was already crouched on his other side, "Sir, can you hear me? We need to get you to the car."" I'm fine," the old man said, waving off his hands and reaching for his arms. "I'm fine. This young woman got to me faster than any of you did." The bodyguard's eyes swept over me, "We should still get you to Dr. Whitfield," the man said, turning back to his employer." Yes, yes." The old man let himself be helped up this time, though his eyes stayed on me the whole way. "Give me a moment." Once he was steady, he reached into his coat and brought out his wallet. I was already shaking my head before he opened it." I don't want anything," I said." I didn't say you did." He held out a card instead. "In case you ever need something. Or in case I want to thank you properly, since my heart isn't trying to kill me." I stared at the card without taking it. "You don't owe me anything."" That's exactly why I'm offering." His voice had an edge of amusement now, "The people who think they're owed nothing are usually the ones worth paying attention to." I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing, and after a moment he tucked the card into the pocket of my sweater himself." Go on," he said. "Before you catch your death out here on my account." He left, but slowly, glancing back twice before he ducked inside his car. Then I walked back to the shelter, barely making it for dinner time. Grace was already scraping the bottom of the pot when I pushed through the door." You look like something the storm dragged in and then decided it didn't want." Grace set down the spoon. "Where were you? Your spot was almost given to the Henderson’s."" There was a man. He collapsed on Fifth, by the pharmacy." I removed my sweater, "Heart attack, I think. I had to get him water." Grace's eyebrows went up. "You spent your dinner money on a stranger."" I spent it on a man who was turning gray on the sidewalk. There's a difference."" Is there?" She served me a bowl of soup. "Sit. Eat before it's cold. You could be a saint with a full stomach, the same as an empty one."" Was he all right? The man?"" I think so. His people showed up eventually." I paused, the spoon halfway to my mouth. "He gave me a business card."" You didn't take his money?"" He tried. I said no." Grace shook her head slowly, "One day that stubbornness is going to get you somewhere good. I keep waiting to see where."“I know it has not gotten me anywhere yet, but remember I'm not doing it for favors,” I pointed out.“That's the problem,” I pause. “The rich keeps taking advantage of the poor, and you just let it happen.”“We have been friends for so long, you know by now I don't believe in that. I just helped out an old man who needed saving. You don't expect me to let him die,” I held her hand. She exhaled. “I'm just trying to watch out for you.”“I know,” I hugged her, knowing she was the best thing this cruel life gave me. Inside the car, Arthur Kingsley said nothing for several blocks. His driver kept glancing at him in the mirror, waiting for instructions that hadn't arrived." Sir? Dr. Whitfield's office, or the mansion?"" The mansion." Arthur was still turning toward the window. "Wait.”" Sir?" He didn't answer right away. He was thinking of a photograph he hadn't looked at in three years. A young couple at a company gala, laughing at something. Daniel and Elizabeth had that same face as the girl who saved him." Sir, are you all right?" Arthur pressed two fingers to his chest, though it wasn't his heart giving him trouble now." Turn around," he said quietly. "I want to see where that girl went."" Sir?"" Just do it." The driver nodded. “But sir… your health.”“Just do as I say.” Arthur frowned." Daniel," he whispered, so quietly the driver didn't hear it. "Your daughter is still alive?"