His Deal, Her Heart

The paper was not even that heavy, but my hands could not hold it. I kept adjusting my grip like that would help, like somehow the words would change if I held it differently. They did not. FINAL NOTICE. EVICTION IN 48 HOURS. The words blurred, then sharpened again as I blinked too fast. My name sat at the top in bold, unforgiving ink, like it was mocking me. Like it knew I had nothing left to fight with. "Lena." I did not look up immediately. I already knew that voice. The landlord stood a few steps away, his expression stiff, almost bored. Like this was just another routine inconvenience in his day. "I'm sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "I have given you more time than most. I can't delay it any longer." I swallowed, forcing my voice to work. "Just.... a little more time. Please. I'll figure something out." He shook his head. "Two days. After that, the locks are changed." I nodded like I understood, like I accepted it, even though something inside me was starting to panic in a slow, creeping way. He left without saying anything else. For a while, I stayed there thinking. I leaned back against the wall, sliding down slowly until I hit the floor. The cold tiles seeped through my clothes, but I barely noticed. Two days. Where was i supposed to go? My phone buzzed in my pocket. For a second, I did not move. I did not want more bad news, I was not sure I could take it. But the buzzing did not stop. I pulled it out. It was an unknown number. My chest tightened. Something about it made my stomach twist, but I answered anyway. "......Hello?" Silence. Nothing. Just silence. I frowned. "Hello?" Then, a voice, deep, calm, and controlled in a way that instantly made my skin prickle. "Lena." My name. Not a question. Not hesitant, but certain. I sat up a little straighter. "Who is this?" "I have an offer you." I let a short, humourless laugh. "If this is about debt collection, you've got the wrong number." "It is about your eviction." The words hit me like a slap. "How do you know?" "Forty-eight hours," he continued smoothly. "That's how long you have before you lose your home." I could hear my heart pounding, loud and uneven. "Who are you?" "I can solve that problem." My grip tightened around the phone. "And why would you do that?" "Because," he said, his voice dropping just slightly, "you can do something for me." Of course. There it is, nothing came for free. "What kind of something?" "You will meet me,"he said, ignoring the question entirely. "Tonight." My brows pulled together. "I don't even know your name." "You don't need it." I almost laughed, "Yeah, I do." "You can think of someone who's about to change your life." I rolled my eyes even though he could not see me. "That's not creepy at all." "You are running out of time, Lena." "You do not have the option to be careful." I hated that he was right. I really, really hated it. I pressed my lips together, looking down at the eviction letter still crumpled in my left hand. Two days. No savings, nowhere to go. ".....Where?" I asked finally. There was a slight shift in his tone, almost like he had been expecting that answer all along. "I'll send the address." And just like that, the call ended. I stared at my phone. "Wow," I muttered. "Not suspicion at all." A second later, a message came in. An address. That was it. Every instict I had told me this was a bad idea. "Fine, what's the worst that could happen? maybe murder me." The building was nothing like I expected. It made me want to turn back. It was too much. Too tall. Too clean. T oo exoensive-looking. It's definitely not a place someone like me just walks into. I stood across the street for a solid minute , checking my phone to see if it was the address, but the address matched." "Okay," I whispered to myself, more to calm myself than anything else. "You have come this far." The moment I stepped inside, cool air wrapped around me, carrying the faint scent of something expensive like polished wood, maybe, or cologne I could not name. The lobby was massive. Massive floors, high ceilings, and a front desk that looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel. I barely made it two steps in before someone approached me. "Miss Lena?" I blinked. A sharply dressed woman stood in front of me, tablet in hand, her posture perfect, her expression neutral. "Yes.....?" "This way, please." No hesitation. No questions. Like she'd been expecting me. Of course she had. I followed her, my nerves tightening with every step. We moved quickly, passed the reception, into a private elevator that opened without her even pressing a button. When the doors opened, the hallway was too quiet. 'He's waiting," the woman said, stepping aside. I nodded, even though my heart was thumping within my chest. I walked towards it anyway. Each step felt louder than it should have. I stopped in front of the door. I lifted my hand. Knocked. "Come in." The voice was the same. I pushed the door open. The room was large, shadows pulled in the corners, the only real light coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows behind the desk. And him. He stood with his back to me, tall, broad-shouldered. one hand resting in his pocket like he owned not just the room but the entire city. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then he turned. My breath caught. That kind of presence? You notice it. His eyes landed on me. And did not move. Silence stretched, thick and heavy. Then, slowly, he stepped closer. Once. Twice. Until he was standing right in front of me. Close enough that I could feel the weight of his attention pressing down on me. Close enough that I couldn't look away even if I wanted to. "You came," he said gently. I swallowed. "You said you could help me." "I can." "Then what do you want?" For a moment, he just looked at me. Like he was searching for something. Or confirming it. Something flickered in his eyes, gone almost as quickly as it appeared. Then he spoke. And just like that, everything changed. "I've been looking for you."