CHAPTER 2 — MARA’S CRISIS
1368 Words
The universe must have woken up in a foul mood—because Mara Lopez’s life was already falling apart before noon.
She stood behind the counter of Brew Lab Café, wearing the same faded apron she’d worn for two years straight. Her hands smelled like burnt espresso, her hair frizzed from the steam machine, and her nerves were on their last thread.
Rent was due.
Her mother’s medical bills were stacking up like a skyscraper.
And the tip jar was almost empty.
Of course.
Because life enjoyed kicking her when she was already choking.
“Order for Lily!” she called, handing out a mocha with a tight smile.
The door chimed again—someone entering—and she didn’t bother looking up. If she made eye contact with one more rude customer, she might scream.
Then her phone buzzed.
Her stomach dropped when she saw the name.
St. Augustine Medical Center.
Not again.
She slid into the back hallway, thumb trembling as she answered.
“H-Hello?”
“Mara Lopez?” a nurse replied.
“Yes—what happened? Is my mom okay? Did something go wrong with—”
“Mara, your mother collapsed again. Her blood pressure dropped dangerously low. We need authorization to run additional tests—immediately.”
Mara pressed a hand to her chest, breath slipping.
“How much?” she whispered.
The nurse paused.
Never a good sign.
“Approximately twelve thousand dollars.”
Mara’s knees weakened.
“Twelve thousand—”
She laughed, a broken, painful sound.
“I don’t even have twelve hundred.”
“If she doesn’t get the tests,” the nurse said gently, “her condition may worsen.”
Mara squeezed her eyes shut.
“I… I’ll find the money. Please stabilize her. I’m on my way.”
She hung up and pressed her forehead to the wall.
This was it.
The breaking point.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
Her world was sinking and there was nothing—nothing—she could do to stop it.
Unless she got money. Fast.
She stormed out of the café, ignoring her manager’s shout.
Her mother was all she had left in this world. She wouldn’t lose her too.
---
Hours Later — At the Hospital
The antiseptic smell hit her first.
Then the silence.
The fear.
Her mother lay pale and unconscious, tubes running into her arms.
A doctor stepped forward.
“Mara, she needs the tests today. We can’t wait.”
Mara nodded quickly, wiping her face.
“Just do it. Please.”
“We need a deposit,” he said softly.
Mara clenched her jaw.
“I’ll get it. I promise.”
But promises meant nothing when your bank balance showed $42.17.
She pulled out her cracked phone, scrolling desperately through old job listings. Nothing paid enough. Nothing fast enough.
Then—suddenly—a screen popped up.
MEDICAL COMPATIBILITY CANDIDATES NEEDED.
Compensation: $350,000.
Strict confidentiality required.
Call for screening.
She froze.
Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars?
Her hand tightened around the phone.
“This has to be a scam,” she muttered.
No one paid that much money. Not for anything legal.
Still… desperation did strange things to the mind.
She clicked the number.
The call connected instantly.
“Kane Global Medical Division,” a crisp woman’s voice said. “State your name.”
Mara blinked. “Uh… Mara Lopez.”
“One moment.”
She heard the clicking of keys, the shuffle of papers.
“Age?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Any chronic conditions?”
“No.”
“Do you have a history of pregnancy complications?”
Mara jumped. “Pregnancy—? What exactly is this for?”
The woman ignored the question. “Do you smoke?”
“No.”
“Drink?”
“Only when life punches me too hard.”
The voice didn’t react.
“You’re preliminarily compatible. Report to Kane Tower tomorrow at 8 a.m. for final evaluation.”
“What? Wait—what is this even—”
The line clicked off.
Mara stared at the phone like it had insulted her ancestors.
“Kane Tower? As in the skyscraper owned by that heartless billionaire?”
Her chest tightened.
Everyone knew Alexander Kane.
The coldest, richest man in the city.
A CEO who fired people for spelling errors.
The devil in a suit.
Great.
Wonderful.
Exactly the type of demon she needed right now.
She looked through the glass at her unconscious mother.
Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars…
Her breath shook.
She had no choice.
---
Next Morning — Kane Tower
Mara stood at the entrance, looking painfully out of place among polished marble and billionaires in designer suits.
Her clothes were clean but worn.
Her shoes are cheap.
Her confidence was non-existent.
A guard scanned her ID, raising an eyebrow.
“Kane Global Medical Division. 59th floor. The elevator on the right.”
She nodded and stepped inside.
Her heart hammered as the elevator shot upward.
Fifty floors.
Fifty-five.
Fifty-eight.
Ding.
The doors opened.
A woman in a white lab coat approached immediately.
“Mara Lopez?”
“Yes.”
“Follow me.”
They entered a private wing—quiet, sterile, expensive. Machines hummed softly. Nurses glided like ghosts.
Mara swallowed hard.
“What is this place?”
“A medical evaluation facility,” the woman replied.
“For a highly confidential project.”
Mara stopped walking.
“This project… it involves pregnancy, doesn’t it?”
The woman hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Surrogacy.”
Mara felt the floor sway under her.
Surrogacy.
A child.
Not hers.
Her heartbeat raced, panic clawing at her chest.
“No. No, I— That’s— That’s too much. I can’t—”
“If you are chosen,” the woman said calmly, “you will receive $350,000. All expenses paid. Private accommodations. Full medical support.”
Mara froze.
She saw her mother’s pale face.
The oxygen tube.
The unpaid bills.
Her throat tightened painfully.
“How long is the process?” she whispered.
“Nine months. Living under monitored conditions.”
“Monitored?” she repeated.
The woman’s eyes sharpened.
“You will receive the full explanation from the client.”
Mara frowned.
“What client?”
Before the woman could answer, a deep, cold voice echoed from behind them.
“Me.”
Mara’s blood turned to ice.
She turned—slowly—and came face to face with a man who looked like sin carved in marble.
Alexander Kane.
Tall. Sharp. Ruthless.
His cold grey eyes met hers—assessing her like she was a problem to be solved.
Or property to be bought.
Mara’s mouth opened.
Closed.
It opened again.
“You?” she breathed.
Alexander’s expression didn’t shift.
“You’re here for a medical evaluation,” he said, voice like ice sliding across steel. “Not conversation.”
Mara bristled. “You could tone down the attitude—”
He stepped closer.
She stepped back.
“You are not here to negotiate,” Alexander said quietly.
“You are here because you need money. And I need an heir.”
Her heartbeat stopped.
He leaned in, voice low, cold, commanding.
“If you agree to my terms, you will move into my penthouse. You will follow every rule I set. You will obey without question. And you will carry my child.”
Mara stared at him in disbelief.
“Are you insane?”
“No,” he said calmly.
“Just efficient.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
“You think I’m just going to say yes to—this? To you?”
Alexander’s lips twitched—not a smile.
More like a warning.
“You’re free to walk away, Miss Lopez. But we both know you won’t.”
She flinched.
He knew.
He knew exactly why she was here.
He had seen her desperation the second she walked in.
Her voice was shaky. “I don’t like you.”
“I don’t require your affection,” he said coldly.
“Only your cooperation.”
Their eyes locked—fire against ice.
Enemies.
Instantly.
And neither would back down.
Mara has entered Alexander’s world…
And he intends to control every breath she takes.
- Writer
