His Contract Bride

Amara Reyes stared at the hospital bill in her trembling hands, the numbers blurring through the tears burning in her eyes. ₱1,480,000. The amount may as well have been a million dollars more. There was no way she could afford it—not on her meager salary as a bookstore assistant, not with her brother’s treatments piling up like a mountain determined to crush her. "Miss Reyes," the nurse said gently, "your brother’s condition is stable for now, but if we delay the next round of medication—" "I know," Amara interrupted softly. "I’ll find a way. I promise." She clutched her bag tighter and walked out of the hospital into the sticky heat of Manila’s early evening. The city’s chaos buzzed around her—honking horns, rushing crowds, the scent of street food—yet she felt hollow, as if the world were moving and she wasn’t. Her phone buzzed. Unknown Number. She hesitated, then answered. “Miss Reyes?” A deep male voice, smooth and cold like glass. “This is Charles Weston. I represent Mr. Ethan Blake. He’d like to see you. Tonight.” Amara froze. “Ethan Blake? The CEO of Blake Enterprises?” “Yes. He has an offer. It concerns your brother.” Her heart skipped. “What kind of offer?” “Something… life-changing. A car will pick you up at 8 PM.” Click. She stared at the phone, a thousand questions swirling. Why would one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the country want anything to do with her? At exactly 8 PM, a sleek black car stopped in front of her tiny apartment. The driver said nothing, simply opened the door. Amara sat stiffly, clutching her worn purse, wearing the only decent dress she owned—a navy blue one she used for interviews. The drive led to an exclusive penthouse at the top of the Blake Tower, all glass, steel, and silence. She was led into an office so large it could hold her entire apartment three times over. And then she saw him. Ethan Blake. He stood by the window, tall and sharp in a tailored black suit. Chiseled jaw, piercing gray eyes, and a presence that made the air seem thinner. “You came,” he said without turning. “I didn’t have a choice,” she replied, trying to steady her voice. He turned to face her. “Good. I don’t like wasting time. So I’ll make this quick.” He placed a folder on the desk and slid it toward her. “A marriage contract,” he said. “One year. In exchange, I’ll cover all of your brother’s medical bills. A private room, best doctors, everything.” Amara stared at him. “Are you insane?” “Some say I am,” he said coolly. “But I need a wife. Not for love—don’t flatter yourself—but for business. My grandfather’s will states I must be married by the end of the month to inherit Blake Enterprises.” “Why me?” “I need someone desperate. Someone who won’t get attached. Someone who will keep her mouth shut and play her role.” “And you think that’s me?” Ethan smiled faintly. “I did my research. You’re proud. But you’d sell your soul to save your brother.” Her face flushed. “You arrogant—” “Call it what you want. But the contract stands. One year. You’ll live in my house. Pretend in public. Attend events. No touching—unless we need to. After that, we go our separate ways. You get the money, I get the company.” Amara opened the folder with shaking fingers. The contract was real. So was the amount written under “Compensation”. ₱3,000,000. Enough to pay all the bills, move into a safer place, maybe even start fresh when it’s all over. “I don’t trust you,” she whispered. “Good,” he said. “Trust leads to trouble.” Silence stretched between them like a wire ready to snap. “If I do this,” she said slowly, “you keep my brother safe. Promise me.” Ethan nodded. “He’ll be treated like royalty.” She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the last of her pride crumbling. “Fine,” she said, voice like steel. “You’ve got yourself a bride.”