MARRIED TO THE COLD HEARTED BILLIONAIRE

The hospital bill lay heavy in my hand, the numbers blurring as tears filled my eyes. Three hundred thousand dollars. I didn’t even have three hundred. “Miss Johnson,” the nurse said softly, “if you can’t make the payment today, we’ll have to stop your mother’s treatment.” The words cut through me like a knife. My mother’s life depended on money I didn’t have. And there was only one person I knew who could help me… even if he was the last person I wanted to beg. By the time I stood outside the glass doors of Stone Enterprises, my knees were trembling. Alexander Stone, my boss, was known as a ruthless, cold-hearted billionaire. He didn’t believe in mercy, and yet… he was my only hope. I pushed the door open. He was sitting behind his massive desk, a silver watch glinting on his wrist, his icy blue eyes fixed on his computer screen. The moment those eyes lifted to me, I felt my throat tighten. “What are you doing here without an appointment?” His voice was low, sharp, and utterly emotionless. I clutched the bill in my hand. “Mr. Stone, I—I need an advance on my salary. Please. My mother—she’s in the hospital. If I don’t pay, she—” His gaze flicked to the crumpled paper I held out, then back to me. No emotion. No pity. “I don’t run a charity, Miss Johnson.” The words stole the air from my lungs. I had prepared for rejection, but not this cruelty. My knees nearly gave way, but I forced myself to stand tall. “Please, sir,” I whispered, my pride breaking with every word. “I’ll work overtime, I’ll take extra shifts—anything. Just don’t let my mother die.” Silence. His eyes narrowed, studying me as though weighing my very soul. Then, suddenly, he leaned back in his chair and said something I never expected. “There is… one way I could help you.” My heart leapt. “Anything. Just tell me what I need to do.” His lips curved into a cold, almost mocking smile. “Marry me.” The room spun. I gripped the edge of his desk, certain I’d misheard him. “E-excuse me?” “You heard me,” he said smoothly, standing and walking toward me with the calculated grace of a predator. “One year. You’ll be my wife in name only. In exchange, I’ll pay for every one of your mother’s treatments… and more.” Shock and disbelief collided in my chest. Was this some kind of sick joke? “You’re insane,” I breathed, stumbling back. He tilted his head, eyes glittering with cold amusement. “Perhaps. But your mother’s life is running out of time, Miss Johnson. What’s it worth to you? Your pride… or her heartbeat?” My mouth went dry. My pride screamed at me to walk away, but my mother’s face—the woman who had sacrificed everything for me—flashed before my eyes. One year. One deal with the devil. And I knew I was about to say yes.