The Billionaires Heart Bargain

EMMA’S POV: A lone figure, draped in shimmering light, commanded the stage. Her voice, an angel’s whisper, silenced the room. A supernova of sound exploded, then faded, leaving breathless echoes and stardust on the hearts of the audience. The woman on stage was Gracie Navada, popularly known as GG Sparks. A signed artist at the same record label I yearned to join, she’d arrived alongside me, but while I faded into the shadows, she shone under the spotlight. Such was my life. “There you are!” a familiar voice boomed from behind. My shoulders slouched as I fought the urge to roll my eyes as Anita sashayed closer. “Why are you loitering? Don’t you know you’re supposed to serve the special guests?” Her shrill voice buzzed like a wasp. “The musicians needed me,” I said, forcing a smile as I turned to the chubby woman. “They requested I wait for GG Sparks before leaving.” “Never mind that, Ella will take your place. I need you for the special guest of honor – just arrived,” Anita purred, a glint in her eye. Again, I wanted to scream, but before I could react, she dragged me away from the stage to the serving room. “Your face looks a bit shiny,” Anita fussed, fixing my sleeves and hair. “Add some powder, brighten up.” Stepping back, I bristled at her touch. “I think I look fine, ma’am. Just give me the tray.” “Alright, alright, you’re right. You look angelic.” Anita flashed a toothy grin, her eyes narrowed. “Carefully with this bottle, it’s worth a fortune. Remember to smile in his presence.” “Yes, boss,” I muttered, turning away from her and the other girls in the cramped room. Anita had chosen me, she said, because I had “the face of an unpolished goddess, beautiful enough to seduce gods.” As flattering as it sounded, it didn’t erase my poverty. We were both still church rats. Taking a deep breath, I plastered on a smile and climbed the VIP stairs. Anita had tasked me with serving the wealthiest man in Lavasron, who, to my surprise, graced this low-budget charity event. I didn’t want the pressure, but the money I desperately needed had spoken. The VIP room offered a stunning view of the event below. Across the room, a broad-shouldered man sat mesmerized by the musician on stage. Dressed in a three-piece grey suit, he exuded an air of quiet power. Sun-kissed skin, strong jawline, eyes like molten chocolate – he was a living Greek god. My breath hitched, momentarily stealing my voice. I stood frozen at the door, having only seen this perfection photoshopped on magazine covers. Sharp brown eyes met mine, causing my legs to turn to jelly. I leaned against the doorframe, desperately regaining my balance. His gaze returned to the stage, and I took the opportunity to approach. A lavish spread sat before him, simplifying my task. I smiled brightly, but he didn’t even glance my way. My smile faltered, and I tore my eyes from his arrogant face, focusing on pouring him champagne. When I finished, I moved to the sidelines, prepared to be at his beck and call for the rest of the evening. A seemingly endless hour passed before the billionaire graced his drink with a sip. His attention remained glued to GG Sparks, understandably so. She was flawless. Just as my phone startled me back to reality, alerting the billionaire as his own phone buzzed, I opened my mouth to apologize. But he was already lost in conversation. Lips pursed, I looked down at my malfunctioning phone, ready to silence it, but the caller made me gasp. “Emilia, your stepmother will inherit everything unless you’re married in two hours!” Edward’s frantic voice whispered. “What?” My brows shot up, confusion clouding my mind. “What are you talking about, Edward?” I questioned the loyal butler who raised me. “No time, child! Do as I say! Hurry to the mansion!” The line died. My phone clattered to the marble floor, tears blurring my vision. How could Vera be so ruthless? It had been two weeks since my father’s passing, and she was already after his fortune. And how could I possibly get married in two hours? Edward’s cryptic words echoed in my ears – the only way to stop her was to fulfill my father’s last wish and get married. But how did that even make sense? Footsteps approached, but I didn’t care. Whether I got fired or embarrassed myself in front of the arrogant billionaire held no weight compared to my grief and anger. All I could think about was my father, his empire built through years of blood and sweat, about to be snatched by a gold digger he’d brought home from the streets. The footsteps stopped In front of me. Sniffling, I looked up at the billionaire. “What do you want?” I choked out, my voice raw with emotion. His cold demeanor remained unaltered as he extended a handkerchief. My brows furrowed, but I hesitantly accepted it. “You asked what I want,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “It’s simple. I want to make a deal with you.” “A deal?” I narrowed my eyes. “You need to be married within two hours. You lack suitors or other options, so I propose – I marry you. That way, you secure your inheritance.” The world around me spun. Was this some kind of prank? Why was this billionaire offering me a way out of my predicament and how in heavens nail did he knew what was going on in my life? “ I know you have questions but if I answer them all, you may not have lost your inheritance by the time I am done,” he said with a devilish smirk that sent chills down my spine. My brows tightened. This was all too good to be true. I rose to my feet and took a step back increasing the space between us. “Mr. Callahan Rehan, why in the world would you want to marry a nobody like me?” I asked curiously. He smirked again but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I am a philanthropist, Miss O’Neil , I term to be drawn to people in need,” he said and I scoffed. “Moreover.” He crossed the distance between us before I could realize it and pinched up my chin. “You are not a nobody, you just chose to leave this way.” I slapped his hand away and stepped back once more. “ How the f**k do you know so much about me? Are you a stalker?” Callahan chuckled as I had told the best joke of the century. He dug his hands in pockets and left them in it. “Don’t flatter yourself, Miss. O’Neil , I will be gaining from our union as much you would be gaining so kindly spare me all your self-righteous bullshit and tell me if you are interested in getting married.“ I was monetarily silenced by his response. Never had I ever met a billionaire who curses. Maybe because this one was 26 years old he was more rash. Regardless of his arrogance, I finally got the answer I had been seeking; he would benefit from this union as much as I would. That was all I needed. “Alright,” I said, my voice steady. “ Let’s do this. Deal.”