The Billionaire I hate

The preposition

The morning sun filtered weakly through the curtains of Zara’s small apartment. Her mother, Evelyn, was still pale and fragile from fainting the day before. Zara sat beside her, staring at the worn floor, her mind racing.

Three million naira.

The number repeated in her head like a drumbeat. Three million naira for surgery. She had no idea how she could ever gather that much money. Every possibility ended in failure. She had no wealthy relatives, no connections, no magic solution. She felt trapped.

Her phone buzzed suddenly. Unknown number.

“H-hello?” she asked, cautious.

“Miss Musa?” A calm, firm voice answered. “This is an investigator acting on behalf of someone powerful. You need to meet immediately regarding your mother’s health.”

Zara froze. Her heart pounded. “Who… who is this about?”

“You will understand soon. Come alone. It is urgent.”

Zara hesitated. Her instincts screamed caution, but her mother’s life left her no choice.

⸻

The next morning, Zara arrived at a tall, polished office building downtown. Marble floors, glass walls, and a sense of authority pressed down on her. Her stomach twisted as she remembered Jason from Lawson Industries.

The investigator led her through quiet hallways to a large office. And there he was—Jason Lawson—seated behind a massive desk, the picture of power. His eyes flicked toward her, calm but unreadable.

“Miss Musa,” he said, voice controlled. “Sit.”

Zara’s knees threatened to buckle. She remembered the hallway yesterday, the hospital, her mother collapsing. Everything led here.

Jason leaned back, fingers steepled, his gaze sharp. “Your mother requires surgery. I can provide the funds—full coverage. But there is a condition.”

Zara’s throat went dry. “Condition?” she whispered.

“You will enter a legally binding marriage contract with me. One year. After that, we revisit the terms.”

Zara’s world tilted. “I… I cannot… I will never…”

Jason’s voice was firm. “It is the only way your mother receives the surgery. If you refuse, she will not survive.”

Tears threatened to spill. Pride screamed at her, fear paralyzed her, but love for her mother won. She pressed her hands to her chest. “I… I need to think,” she whispered.

Jason’s expression softened just a fraction, gone in an instant. “You have until tomorrow morning. Consider carefully. This is not a request.”

Zara left the office, each step heavier than the last. How could she marry a man she barely knew, a man she had insulted? But her mother’s life left no alternative.

⸻

That night, Zara sat by the window, staring at the city lights. The apartment felt smaller than ever. Her mother’s fainting, the doctor’s words, the hospital bills—they all screamed in her ears. She thought of her father, gone and powerless to protect them. She thought of the man who had humiliated her at Lawson Industries, now holding her mother’s survival in his hands.

She wanted to scream, to run, to cry, but she knew she could not. Pride, fear, and logic all faded before one truth: she had no choice.

By dawn, her decision was made. She would sign the contract.

⸻

Meanwhile, in his penthouse, Jason Lawson was reviewing every detail his team had gathered on Zara. He didn’t understand why this girl obsessed him, why her defiance and courage mattered. Her presence lingered in his mind like a shadow.

“She is going to marry me,” he murmured to himself, voice low. “Whether she wants to or not.”

The line between curiosity and obsession was thin, and Jason had already crossed it. One thing was certain: their lives were now intertwined, and nothing could untangle them.