Contract Flames

The Price

The next morning, Leo was worse.

Aurora woke to the sound of him whimpering. She rushed into his room and found him curled up on his side, knees drawn to his chest, breathing fast and shallow through the oxygen tube.

“Baby, talk to me,” she whispered, kneeling beside the bed. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” Leo mumbled, voice small and broken. “My back… my legs… it feels like fire this time.”

She helped him sit up slowly, her heart cracking with every wince he tried to hide. She gave him his pain medicine, adjusted the oxygen flow, and spent the next hour rubbing his back in the slow circles the nurses had taught her. Even then, he kept biting his lip so he wouldn’t cry out loud. At ten years old, he was already trying to protect her.

“I’m sorry, Rory,” he whispered during a quiet moment. “I hate making you worry.”

Aurora’s eyes stung. “You never make me worry, superhero. This isn’t your fault.”

She stayed with him until the medicine kicked in and he drifted into a restless sleep. Only then did she allow herself to cry silently in the bathroom, hands gripping the sink so hard her knuckles turned white.

Jane arrived shortly after. One look at Aurora’s face and she knew.

“You need to make a decision,” Jane said quietly in the kitchen. “Leo’s getting worse. The doctor called again yesterday about those new tests. If the crises keep coming like this, he might need regular blood transfusions soon. That’s money we simply don’t have.”

Aurora leaned against the counter, staring at the unopened hospital envelope that had been mocking her for days. “I know.”

She told Jane everything — the folder, the terms, the baby clause, the money, the safety net. Jane listened without interrupting, flipping through a few pages of the contract.

“Holy s**t, Aurora,” Jane said softly. “This thing even has clauses about private medical transport if Leo needs emergency care. This isn’t some half-assed offer. This is real.”

“Yeah.” Aurora rubbed her face with both hands. “But it comes with a price. I have to live with him. Act like his wife. Try for a child within the first year.”

Jane was quiet for a long moment. “You don’t have to love him,” she said gently. “You just have to survive. For Leo.”

Aurora closed her eyes. The weight of those words sat heavy on her chest.

Later that afternoon, after Leo had settled into a deeper sleep, Aurora sat on the edge of her bed with her phone in her hand. She stared at Adrien’s business card for nearly twenty minutes. Her thumb hovered over the numbers. She put the phone down. Picked it up again. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Finally, she dialed.

He answered on the second ring.

“Aurora.”

His voice was calm, but she could hear the alertness in it.

“I read the contract,” she said. Her voice sounded steadier than she felt. “I have questions. A lot of them.”

“Name the time and place,” he replied without hesitation. “I’ll be there.”

They met at a quiet café far from her usual jobs — a neutral place with soft lighting and private corners. Adrien was already waiting when she arrived. Two coffees sat on the table. He looked composed as always, but there was something careful in the way he watched her sit down.

“Ask me anything,” he said before she could speak. “No secrets.”

She pulled out the folder, pages marked with sticky notes.

“Section 7.3,” she said. “Living arrangements. You want us under the same roof the entire time?”

“Yes. It has to look real. My mother isn’t stupid. Separate bedrooms are allowed, but we need to share the same residence.”

Aurora nodded slowly. “And the child part… if I’m not ready? If I want to wait?”

“We negotiate timelines together,” he said. “I’m not a monster. I won’t force you into anything. But we both need this deal to work.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “Why me? Really. There are thousands of women who would jump at this kind of offer.”

Adrien leaned back slightly. “Because that night… even with the drugs… there was real chemistry between us. That makes the story believable.”

He stopped there, letting the words sit between them.

Aurora’s fingers tightened on the edge of the table. “How do you even know about my brother?”

Adrien didn’t look ashamed. “Your name tag gave me your full name. After that… I did some digging. I needed to find you, and I needed to understand what you were fighting for.”

She scraped her chair back and stood up. “You had me investigated?”

“I had to know who I was offering this to,” he replied calmly. “I’m not a monster, Aurora. I lost my father when I was young. I know what it feels like when family is slipping away. I don’t want your brother to suffer if I can prevent it.”

Aurora’s hands were shaking. The offer sounded like salvation and a cage at the same time.

“I need real time,” she whispered. “And I want my own lawyer to look at everything before I agree to anything.”

Adrien slid another document across the table. “This is an addendum with extra protections for you. If at any point you feel unsafe or want out early, there’s a significant settlement. I had my lawyers add it this morning after our last conversation.”

She took the folder with trembling fingers and walked away without another word, her mind spinning.

That night, after putting Leo to bed, Aurora stood at his bedside for a long time.

His small chest rose and fell with the help of the oxygen. His drawings were scattered around him — superheroes, mostly her. In every picture she was strong. Unbreakable.

She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and whispered, “I’m going to fix this, baby. Whatever it takes.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she made her final decision.

Tomorrow, she would call Adrien again.

Tomorrow, she would say yes.