My Contractual Husband Is Actually A Billionaire CEO

Chapter 2: The Decision

Emma woke up the next morning to the sound of her mother coughing in the bathroom. She lay in bed for a moment, staring at the water stain on the ceiling that looked like a bird with broken wings. The business card from Alex sat on her nightstand where she'd placed it before sleep, like a small white rectangle of possibility and fear.

"Emma, breakfast is ready," her mother called weakly from the kitchen.

Emma found Maria standing at the stove, stirring scrambled eggs with one hand while gripping the counter with the other. Her mother had always been strong – working double shifts as a hotel housekeeper to raise Emma alone after her father left when Emma was eight. But now she looked fragile, like she might break if Emma hugged her too hard.

"Mama, you should be resting. I can make breakfast."

"I need to stay busy," Maria said, dividing the eggs between two chipped plates. "The doctor called this morning while you were in the shower."

Emma's fork stopped halfway to her mouth. "What did he say?"

"They want to move the surgery up. Friday instead of next week. They said..." Maria's voice trembled slightly. "They said it's growing faster than they thought."

Friday. That was only four days away. Emma felt the room spin slightly. She had until Thursday to give Alex an answer, and now her mother needed surgery on Friday. The timing felt like the universe pushing her toward a decision she wasn't ready to make.

At work, Emma couldn't concentrate on anything. She sat at her small desk in the corner of Henderson & Associates, pretending to review tax documents while actually googling "marriage contracts" and "fake marriages" on her phone. Most of what she found was about immigration fraud or movie plots. Nothing helpful about whether what Alex was proposing was actually legal or safe.

During her lunch break, she called her best friend Sofia, who worked at a law office in Brooklyn.

"You want to do what?" Sofia's voice was so loud that Emma had to hold the phone away from her ear.

"It's just for one year, Sof. And it would save my mom's life."

"Emma, this sounds like human trafficking or something worse. You don't know anything about this guy."

"He seemed normal. Professional. And it's not like that – we'd live separately."

"Normal guys don't offer strangers a quarter million dollars to marry them," Sofia said firmly. "There has to be something wrong with him. Maybe he's married already, or he's into weird stuff, or—"

"Or maybe he's just really rich and needs help with a business deal," Emma interrupted. "People do fake marriages for green cards all the time."

"That's different, and you know it. Look, can you at least meet him somewhere public again? Maybe I could come with you?"

"I don't think bringing backup to a business meeting would look very professional."

Sofia sighed. "Promise me you'll be careful. And if you decide to do this crazy thing, make sure you have a good lawyer look at the contract first."

After lunch, Emma found herself googling Alexander Stone instead of working. There were thousands of results – Alexander Stone the historical figure, Alexander Stone the football player, Alexander Stone the author. Nothing about a businessman who might need a fake wife.

The afternoon dragged by. Every time the phone rang, Emma jumped, thinking it might be the hospital with more bad news. By five o'clock, she felt like her nerves were made of exposed electrical wires.

At the diner, Emma moved through her evening shift like a robot. She took orders, served coffee, and cleaned tables, but her mind was somewhere else entirely. Her manager, Ruth, a tough woman in her fifties who'd been running the place for twenty years, noticed.

"You're somewhere else tonight, honey," Ruth said, wiping down the counter next to where Emma was refilling sugar dispensers. "Everything okay at home?"

Emma looked around the diner. It was Tuesday night, so the usual crowd was there – Mr. Peterson reading his newspaper and drinking decaf, the group of college students sharing nachos and complaining about professors, and the young couple in booth three who came in every week and always split a piece of pie.

These people felt real and safe. The conversation with Alex felt like something that had happened to someone else.

"My mom's sick," Emma said simply.

"I'm sorry to hear that. You take care of yourself too, okay? Can't pour from an empty cup."

When Emma got home at eleven, her mother was already asleep. Emma sat at the kitchen table with Alex's business card in front of her. She picked up her phone three times to call him, then put it down each time.

What if Sofia was right? What if Alex was dangerous? But what if he wasn't? What if this was the miracle she'd been praying for?

Emma opened her laptop and tried searching for Alexander Stone in New York business directories. Still nothing useful. She looked up Romano's Café and found it had excellent reviews and cost about what she made in a week for one dinner. Alex had chosen an expensive place, which either meant he really did have money or he was putting on a very good show.

She pulled out a notebook and made two lists, like her mother had taught her to do when facing big decisions:

Reasons to Say Yes:

- Mom gets surgery and lives

- $250,000 would change everything

- Only one year

- Alex seemed honest

Reasons to Say No:

- Could be dangerous

- Don't know anything about Alex

- Marriage is sacred

- What if something goes wrong?

Emma stared at the lists. The 'yes' reasons were shorter, but they were also life and death. The 'no' reasons were all about fear of the unknown.

She walked quietly to the living room and looked at her mother sleeping. Maria's face was peaceful now, but Emma could see how much weight she'd lost. Her cheekbones were sharp under her pale skin, and her wedding ring – which she still wore fifteen years after Emma's father left – was loose on her thin finger.

Emma remembered being twelve years old when her mother got laid off from the hotel. Maria had sat at this same kitchen table, paying bills with the last of their savings, and told Emma they might have to move in with Emma's aunt in New Jersey. Emma had been terrified of leaving her school and friends. But somehow, Maria had found another job and made it work. She always made it work.

Now it was Emma's turn to make it work.

She went back to the kitchen table and picked up her phone. Before she could lose her nerve, she dialed Alex's number.

He answered on the second ring. "Hello, Emma."

"How did you know it was me?"

"I gave you my private number. You're the only one who has it."

That was odd, but Emma pushed the thought aside. "I have some questions about the arrangement."

"Of course. Go ahead."

"Is it really legal?"

"Yes. We'd sign a prenuptial agreement stating that this is a business arrangement with no romantic expectations. After one year, we file for divorce citing irreconcilable differences. Very standard."

"And we'd really live separately?"

"Completely separate. I'd provide you with an apartment – nicer than what you have now – but you'd live alone. I'd only need you to attend maybe six or seven events with me over the course of the year."

"What kind of events?"

"Business dinners. A charity gala or two. Nothing complicated. You'd just need to smile and make small talk."

Emma took a deep breath. "The money would be available right away?"

"Monday morning. Wired directly to your account."

"I need the surgery scheduled for Friday."

There was a pause. "That's very soon. Is your mother's condition serious?"

Emma was surprised that he remembered her mentioning her mother. "Yes. Very serious."

"Then we should move quickly. Can you meet me tomorrow night to review the contracts? Same place, same time?"

Emma closed her eyes. This was it – the moment where she either jumped off the cliff or backed away from the edge. "Yes. I'll be there."

"Emma?" Alex's voice was gentler now. "For what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing. Your mother is lucky to have a daughter who cares so much."

After he hung up, Emma sat in the quiet kitchen for a long time. She'd just agreed to marry a complete stranger. But for the first time in months, she felt like she could breathe properly. Tomorrow night, she'd sign papers that would save her mother's life.

In the living room, Maria stirred and called out softly, "Emma? Is that you, mija?"

"Yes, Mama. Go back to sleep."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Emma looked at the business card one more time, then put it carefully in her wallet. Tomorrow, everything would change. But tonight, she would sleep better than she had in weeks, knowing that she'd found a way to fight back against the impossible situation that had been crushing her family.

Outside, the city hummed with late-night energy, full of people making their own desperate choices and holding onto their own small hopes. Emma was just one of millions, but tonight, her hope had a name and a phone number, and that felt like enough.