The Billionaire's Contract Wife

Chapter 3

Alicia’s POV

Twenty million dollars? My mind was spinning. Just to be a pretend wife? That kind of money could save Dad, but still. It felt crazy. It would cover all the hospital bills, no doubt—but at what cost? Honestly, it’s a bad idea. But also maybe it’s the only one I’ve got.

I could not stop thinking about it throughout my shift. “What did you guys talk about?” Vivian asked. “Nothing important. Just… a sympathiser.” I didn’t want to tell her yet. Not until I knew what I was doing myself. “You okay?” she asked, watching me carefully. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just need to go home.” “You’ve had a long day. I understand.” “Thank you.” I was really grateful for Vivian. I don’t know how I’d be holding it together without her.

When my shift finally ended, I got in my car and drove straight home. The moment I stepped inside, I kicked off my shoes and went straight to my room. I picked up my phone and called Olivia. It rang. Then connected. Thank God. “Alicia! Hii!” “Liv.” “You’re back! How was the shift?” “Girl, so much happened today. You won’t believe it.” “Start from somewhere!” “Okay, okay. So, you remember Vivian?” “Of course.” “She saw me all puffy and moody this morning and kept asking what was wrong. I told her everything, but what we didn’t know was someone overheard. This guy comes back to the coffee shop, asks to see me. I’m thinking, ‘I can’t just step out mid-shift,’ right? But then Vivian whispers my boss says it’s fine, so I go.

And get this, he overheard the whole thing and says he wants to make me an offer. Liv do you know what he offered me? Twenty. Million. Dollars.” “No way!” “Yes way!” “Why would he do that?”

“He said he needs a pretend wife for six months. Ten million upfront. Ten at the end. No kids. Just a wife on paper.” Silence. “Liv, say something.” “This is insane. Beyond insane.” She paused. Then added quietly, “But so is watching your dad fade away when there’s a way to help him. I know how much you love him, Alicia. And right now, you’ve got to put that love above everything else. Think about it.” “I know… but still…” “Alicia, take your time. I trust your judgment.” “Thank you.” There was a beat of silence, then she asked, mischief in her voice, “Okay, but be honest, is he handsome?” I burst into laughter. “He’s actually not bad.” “Oooh! Sounds like someone’s got a new crush.” “Liv, no. The contract says no strings, no love, no babies. Strictly business.” “Uh-huh. Sure.” She laughed. “Okay, okay.” We talked a little longer, then said our good nights and hung up.

But sleep? That did not come. I laid awake, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. Time was not exactly on my side, and a decision had to be made. I thought about Dad. How it’s always been just the two of us. I never met Mum; she died giving birth to me. I don’t really feel her absence but sometimes I still wish she were here. Do I really want to watch the only family I have left die? The answer is obvious: no. I glanced at the clock—1:00 a.m. I’d go to his office tomorrow and give him my answer.

Before trying to sleep, I opened the Google app and searched his name. His pictures came up. Damn. He looked like a flawless god. Then I saw something about an ex. Ugh. A public breakup. Great. I kept scrolling. There were business articles, photos of him at events, gossip headlines, and then one image that made me pause—him smiling. Not his usual stiff, camera-ready smile. A real one. It caught me off guard. He did not look like someone desperate. He looked... lonely. And that scared me more than anything. Because loneliness is familiar. And if I was not careful, mine might start to match his.

I tossed my phone to the other side of the bed and sat up. My chest felt tight. I wrapped my arms around my knees and stared out the window. The streetlight filtered through the blinds, casting lines across the floor like bars in a cell. Would I be locking myself into something I couldn't escape from? Just because it was a contract did not mean emotions wouldn’t get involved. And who would protect me if they did? I remembered something Dad once told me, "Don’t ever sell yourself short, Alicia. Life will test you, but don’t let it define you." But what happens when the test is your father dying in front of you?

I got up and went to the kitchen. Poured a glass of water I did not really want. Pacing. Thinking. I did not ask for this life. I did not ask to be broke. I did not ask to choose between my pride and my father’s life. But here I was.

I returned to bed and pulled out a photo album from under the drawer. Flipping through it, I stopped at one of Dad and me in the hospital years ago—he had broken his arm trying to fix the roof. I was holding a juice box, laughing. He was always trying to protect me, even when he could not afford to. And now it was my turn.

I closed the album. My heart felt steadier now. Still scared, but clearer. Looking at his card, I made a decision. This was not about Michael. Not yet. This was about saving my dad. And if pretending to be someone’s wife for six months—if putting on a show—meant giving my dad a real shot at life, then so be it. Still, I needed rules. Boundaries. A plan.

Tomorrow, I’d walk into his office with my chin high. I wasn’t some desperate girl begging for help. I was making a trade—one that benefitted us both.

But I needed to protect my heart.