Second Chance: The Billionaire’s Contract

A Mother’s Request

Alexander groaned, his eyes adjusting to the soft morning light that filtered in through the blinds. His torso felt strangely warm, and as he looked down, he saw a woman’s hand resting casually across him. With a quick flick of his wrist, he brushed her hand off. A low hiss escaped his lips as he sat up, feeling the weight of the night before pressing down on his chest.

He moved swiftly, stepping into the bathroom, hoping the cool water would wash away the remnants of sleep.

After a few minutes, he came out of the bathroom, fully dressed. His gaze landed on Jessica, one of his many fleeting flings, standing by the bed, fumbling with the bedsheet as she wrapped it around her body. Her face was a picture of confusion, her hair disheveled, and her eyes heavy from a night’s sleep.

“Why didn’t you wait for me to wake up, babe?” Jessica asked, her voice soft but tinged with a hint of annoyance.

Alexander arched a brow, his expression turning cold. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me ‘babe’? We are just flings, Jessica. Nothing more.”

Jessica’s lips parted as if to argue, but he was already cutting her off. “You know how it is. I never do attachments.”

She stepped closer, the sheet still wrapped around her body, her eyes searching his face. “But I…..”

He raised his hand, silencing her. “You need to leave. Now.” His words were firm, cutting through the air.

Without another word, he threw some cash onto the floor, more than enough to cover whatever she’d think she needed to leave. She opened her mouth to speak, but the phone in his pocket vibrated urgently. Without hesitation, he pulled it out and answered it.

“Mr. Hawthorne,” the nurse’s voice crackled through the phone, “you need to come quickly. Your mother... she’s gone into shock again.”

Alexander gripped the phone tightly, as panic surged through him. His mother has been fighting cancer for three years, and every time they thought she was stabilizing, she seemed to fall further. He had the best doctors money could buy, but the cancer was ruthless, spreading faster than anyone anticipated. He clenched his jaw, trying to steady his breath.

Without another word to Jessica, he tossed the phone down onto the bed. “Get out,” he snapped, his voice rising in frustration.

Jessica didn’t say a word. She simply grabbed her things, her face pale, and scurried out of the room.

Within minutes, he was dressed in a sleek black suit, his hair nearly gelled back. He rushed downstairs, his mind only focused on one thing: his mother.

Sophia, his maid, greeted him as he passed, but he barely acknowledged her. “Sophia, escort Jessica out when she’s done,” he muttered as he moved past her, already heading toward the front door.

Outside, the black Mustang sat waiting for him, the driver opened the door. “To the hospital,” Alexander ordered, his voice low and the car pulled away.

As they sped through the streets, Alexander’s thoughts raced. He knew his mother’s condition was dire. They had done everything they could,sought out every possible treatment from doctors all over the world, but none of it seemed to help. He’d heard the latest diagnosis: “Pray for a miracle.” He couldn’t bear it. Not again.

The driver’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Mr. Hawthorne, we’re almost there.”

“Thank you,” Alexander replied, his voice hoarse.

The car came to a screeching halt in front of the hospital. He didn’t wait for the driver to open his door; he was already out of the car and moving toward the entrance, his movements fast.

He passed the nurses and staff, barely noticing them as he hurried down the corridor. His mother’s room was just ahead. He opened the door, and he took a deep breath when he saw his mother, Margaret.

There she was, sitting up, a wide smile on her face as if everything was perfectly fine. Alexander felt a wave of relief flood through him. She was smiling. Despite everything, she was smiling.

“Mother,” he whispered, stepping into the room. “You’re alright?”

She looked at him, her eyes full of warmth. “I told you, there’s no need for you to come everyday. I’m fine, Alexander.”

His jaw clenched. He didn’t want to hear it. “Don’t lie to me, Mother. I don’t want to hear it. You’re not fine.” He took a step closer, his heart aching as he sat beside her.

She chuckled softly, her frail hand resting on his. “I’m fine. Just a little shock, that’s all.”

Magaret eyes softened. “What about the company? Who’s running it now?” she asked, a look of concern crossing her features.

He sighed. “The company can wait for a while, Mother. You’re more important.” He smiled faintly, trying to reassure her.

She shook her head, her smile still unwavering. “You’ve always been a good son. But you know how I feel about this. I want to see you settled. I want to know you’ll be taken care of when I’m gone.”

He clenched his jaw, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading. She had been pressuring him about marriage for years.

“Mother…” His voice was low. “I don’t want to get married. Not now. I can’t.”

Her eyes twinkled, knowing full well what he was going to say. “Well, it’s my last wish. Before I go, I just want to know you’re with someone who will love you and take care of you.”

Alexander ran a hand through his hair, frustrated but resigned. “Alright, alright. I’ll do it. I promise, I’ll get married. But you have to promise me something too. Take your medication. Don’t give up.”

Magaret smile widened. “I promise, I’ll take it. And you… you better keep your word. I’ll be waiting to meet your bride the next time you visit.”

His chest tightened as he stood up. “You’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll see you soon.” He kissed her forehead softly before turning to leave.

But as he reached the door, his mother called after him. “Alexander,” she said, her voice a little softer now. “Please… find someone who will truly love you. It's all I ever want.”

He nodded. “I will, Mother. I will.”

After finishing at the hospital and instructing the doctors to care well for his mother, Alexander headed back to his car and instructed the driver to take him to the Hawthorne Corporation headquarters.

On the drive, his thoughts remained heavy. His mother’s health was failing rapidly, and he was desperate to fulfill her wish, even if it meant finding a wife to make her happy.

Arriving at Hawthorne Corporation, Alexander entered the bustling office, his eyes scanning the area.

He approached his receptionist, Sophia. “What’s going on here?”

“Mr. Hawthorne, there’s something you should know.”

He turned to her, his patience running thin. “What is it?”

“Yesterday the media captured a woman being chased out by one of your employees. They couldn’t get her face, but the woman is said to be Daniel’s Kane wife,”

“Interesting," Alexander murmured. “Find out everything you can about her. I want to know who she is,” he ordered.

Soon after, Alexander made his way to his office and sat down in his high-backed chair, waiting.

Shortly, a knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” he said.

Sophia stepped in, handing him the files and exited the office. He went through it carefully. Raine Winslow. An orphan, forced into marriage, and now divorced with a young daughter, two years. He saw the potential in this, this could be his solution. A woman with no real prospects, no family, no future, but perhaps the perfect candidate to be the wife his mother always wanted.

***************************

In the evening, Alexander stepped out of his sleek black car, his gaze sweeping over the familiar neon-lit bar. As he pushed open the door to the bar, Ophelia’s voice rang out. “Well, well, look who decided to show his face,” she teased, her hands on her hips, a warm smile lighting up her face.

Alexander’s serious demeanor softened just a bit. “Ophelia,” he greeted, stepping forward. “It’s been a while.”

“Been a while?” she laughed, her voice a blend of mock surprise and genuine amusement. “Try months, Alexander. What? You got so rich you forgot your old friends?”

“Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Work’s been… chaotic.”

“It always is with you.” She shook her head, waving her hand dismissively, but there was a fondness in her eyes. “Sit, sit. Or are you here for a drink? Because if you are, the first one’s on the house.”

Before Alexander could respond, the door to the lounge suddenly burst open, and Stephanie came running out, her tiny feet pattering against the wooden floor.

“Raine!” Ophelia’s voice was both amused and exasperated. “I told you to keep Stephanie in the playroom.”

Alexander eyes shot up at the mention of Raine. This was her daughter. Hecrouched down, letting a gentle smile touch his lips. “Hey there, little one. What’s your name?”

Stephanie clutched a small, worn-out teddy bear to her chest and whispered shyly, “Stephanie,”

“Well, Stephanie,” he said, his voice warm, “where’s your mommy?”