Bound by the billionaire’s contract

“I have an offer for you.” The words fell like air in her ears. Arianna turned, wondering who would utter such an outrageous thing in a hospital. She thought it was a mistake at first, maybe someone on a call, so she kept her face buried in her palms again. But the voice was directed to her. Gradually, she raised her head, and her eyes locked onto the tall man’s sharp gaze, about six feet tall. A diamond watch was fixed on his wrist. His expensive suit drew the attention of the visitors in the waiting room. Arianna’s eyes went wide, her mouth opened. She blinked rapidly and said, “Excuse me,” trying to center herself. Grayson Hawthorne. She had heard about him in magazines and under headlines for multi-million-dollar deals. The youngest billionaire and the kind of man every lady admired. He was untouchable, feared, admired. Grayson stared at her for some time and moved closer to her. Arianna held on tight to the bills the doctor had handed to her, each number moving across her mind. She swallowed hard, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Grayson repeated, his voice calm. “One-year contract marriage. I provide the funds for your father’s bills.” His eyes switched to the trembling sheet in her hand, then looked back at her. “You are desperate, and I can solve your problem.” Desperate. The word stung in Arianna’s ears. She knew it was true, but hearing it from a stranger who wasn’t supposed to exist in her world sounded like an exposure. “I heard your conversation with your friend earlier. You don’t know if you can afford the money. I sensed the fear in your voice. That’s why I’m here to give you an offer.” Grayson’s words raced through Arianna’s mind with disbelief. She managed to steady her voice, despite it cracking. “Why should you care?” “Because I need something from you,” Grayson replied with a commanding voice. He moved towards Arianna. Though his voice was calm, the words pierced Arianna’s chest. “As I said earlier, a wife.” Arianna blinked, shaken. “A… what?” “A wife,” Grayson replied. The word hung between them, absurd and impossible. Samantha was shocked beside her; her hand flew to her mouth in surprise. “What did he just say?” Grayson did not look at Samantha. His eyes stayed fixed on Arianna. “One year. You wear my ring, stand by my side, and the world sees you as Mrs. Hawthorne. In return, your father’s bills for his surgery and treatment are paid. Deal done.” Arianna gripped the paper hard. Her chest burned, her red eyes fixed on Grayson. She recalled the moment when her dad lectured her about how he would walk her down the aisle, as well as her landlord’s rent and the loan people she had borrowed money from. The nights she had calculated what couldn’t be calculated. Arianna knew she couldn’t afford the money, yet her pride still refused to yield. Her fist tightened slowly. She whispered as her eyebrows came together, shadowing the fire in her eyes, “That’s insane. You can’t just walk up to someone and” “I can,” Grayson cut in smoothly but with a sharp voice. His tone didn’t rise, but it carried finality. “I don’t do charity, Miss Arianna. I do business. You need something I have. I’m offering you a way out.” “You think I would sell myself to you just because you have money?” Arianna said, her voice cracking. Grayson’s expression didn’t change. He replied to Arianna with a soft smile. “I think you should go back to school because it seems you have lost your grammar. I never asked you to sell your body. It’s called trade. You have twenty-four hours to decide.” He reached into his suit pocket and drew out his black card. With precise motion, he dropped it on Arianna’s seat, then turned back and said in a sharp voice, “That’s my card.” Then he turned and walked away. Grayson glanced over his shoulder, no dramatic exit, just the confident man who had delivered his terms and knew the world would bend to them. The visitors in the waiting room moved aside for him as he passed, as though some force pushed them aside. Within some seconds, the doors behind him closed, leaving silence in his wake. Arianna glanced at the card, confused, her heart beating so hard she could hear it in her ears. Samantha held her hands tightly. “Arianna,” Samantha whispered, her voice trembling. “I think you should accept his offer. Lucio will send his men after you again if you don’t pay back the money you borrowed in the next two days.” Arianna’s lips parted, but she could not talk. Her eyes stayed locked on the black card the cold billionaire had left for her. Pride screamed to throw it in the bin behind her. But her father’s pale face was weary, fighting for breath with the oxygen mask strapped to his nose, and her chest ached. Arianna’s throat tightened, her eyes turned red, and tears streamed down her face, soaking the collar of her shirt. She wanted to tell Samantha she agreed, but her pride wouldn’t let her. “I have to go and see my dad,” Arianna told Samantha as she reached for the tissue in her bag, wiping her tears. She had to look presentable for her dad. Her eyes burned, but she forced the tears back. Samantha held her hands and told her she wasn’t alone. She encouraged Arianna to stay strong for her dad and gave her a warm hug. Before she could speak, her father’s door opened. A nurse hurried to her in the hallway, her shoes pounding against the floor. Her face looked like a balloon losing air. Samantha and Arianna looked at each other and sensed something was wrong. Another doctor rushed into her father’s ward. Arianna’s chest raced, and she ran toward the ward, but a nurse slammed the door in her face. The curtains dropped. Before she could speak, a nurse came out of the ward, her eyes locked on Arianna. “Miss Arianna, it’s your father.”