The Billionaire’s Contract Bride

Lena’s POV “I can’t pay it right now.” There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone. “Ma’am, the balance is due before we can schedule the next round of treatment.” I closed my eyes and pressed the phone harder against my ear, as if that could somehow make the amount sound smaller. It didn’t. “I just need two more weeks,” I said. “Please. I’ll get the money.” “I understand, but our policy” “Please.” My voice shook, and I didn’t like it. “She’s my mother. I’m handling it.” The lie tasted bitter the moment I said it. I wasn’t handling it. I hadn’t been handling it for months. After the call, I sat at the kitchen table and looked at the envelopes in front of me. Hospital bills. Medication costs. Letters asking for payment. I had seen them so many times that I already knew what they were about. I always thought working hard would be enough to fix my problems. Now, I wasn’t so sure. My phone buzzed again. This time, it was work. Client meeting moved up. Black Holdings. Be there in twenty minutes. I looked at the time and stood immediately. There was no room to sit around feeling sorry for myself. I had learned that much. I grabbed my jacket and the documents I needed before leaving my apartment. Twenty minutes later, I arrived at Black Holdings. I had been there before, but I still felt nervous whenever I walked into Damian Black’s office. Everything in the office looked expensive. Damian was standing near the window when I walked in. He turned when he heard the door open. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “Miss Carter.” “Mr. Black.” He pointed to the chair in front of his desk. I sat down and put my folder on the desk. “You’re the one drafting the contract?” “That’s right.” “I assume you’ve gone through the preliminary terms.” “I have.” He took his seat, his attention settling on me. “I need a wife within ninety days.” “I know.” “The marriage will last one year.” “I know that too.” He looked at me for a moment, like he didn’t expect me to be so sure. “I want the arrangement to remain private between us as much as possible. Publicly, however, there will be expectations.” “What kind?” “My wife will attend certain events with me. She’ll be seen with me when necessary. People will need to believe the marriage is real.” I made a note in my file. “And the payment?” “It’s in the documents.” “I saw it.” “Then you know the amount.” “I want you to say it.” For a moment, his face changed. He looked a little annoyed. But he still gave me the number. I stared at him for a moment. Then at my notes. That amount could clear every bill sitting on my kitchen table. It could pay for my mother’s treatment. Not just the next round. Months of it, maybe more. I swallowed and forced myself to look back at him. “That’s generous.” “It needs to be.” “Because you’re asking a stranger to marry you.” “Exactly.” I studied him. He didn’t look like someone who needed help from anyone. He looked calm and sure of himself. Everything about him suggested that if there was a problem, he simply found a solution. “So why not marry someone you already know?” His answer came without hesitation. “Because everyone I know wants something from me that has nothing to do with money.” I raised an eyebrow. “Money is easier to negotiate than feelings?” “Usually.” There was something almost unsettling about how easily he said it. I looked down at the contract again. I should have been asking about the woman he wanted to marry. I should have been discussing the legal terms, making sure every clause protected my client. Instead, I heard myself speak. “What if it’s me?” The room went quiet. Damian didn’t answer immediately. He simply looked at me. “You’re my lawyer.” “I was your lawyer before this conversation.” “This isn’t a joke, Miss Carter.” “I’m not laughing.” He leaned back slightly. “Why would you want to do this?” I could have told him the truth. I could have told him about my mother lying in a hospital bed. About the bills I could no longer keep up with. About the phone call I’d received twenty minutes earlier. But I didn’t want his sympathy. “I already know the terms,” I said. “You want someone who understands the arrangement. Someone who won’t expect anything beyond what’s written in the contract.” “And you?” “I won’t.” “You don’t even like me.” “I don’t need to like you.” His jaw tightened. It was the first real reaction I’d seen from him. He stood and walked toward the windows. For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. Then he said, “You understand what this could do to your career?” “I understand.” “People will talk.” “People always talk.” “You’re a lawyer. Marrying your own client could become a problem.” I looked down at the contract. “It could also save my mother’s life.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. Damian turned around. “Your mother?” I immediately regretted saying it. “That’s not your business.” “You made it my business when you offered to marry me.” He wasn’t wrong. I hated that. He walked back toward the desk and stopped in front of me. “You’re willing to give up a year of your life for money?” “I’m willing to spend a year doing something I already understand in exchange for something my family desperately needs.” He studied me carefully. “You don’t know what you’re agreeing to.” “I’m a lawyer. I read the contract.” “That isn’t what I mean.” I looked up at him. “What exactly do you mean?” His expression didn’t change. “You’re agreeing to marry a man you barely know. Whatever you discover about me after that is your problem.” There was something about the way he said it that made me pause. But I pushed the thought aside. I didn’t have the luxury of being curious. “I don’t walk away from things,” I said. “Careful. That’s the kind of thing people say before they do.” “Try me.” For a moment, neither of us moved. Then Damian reached for the pen on his desk and held it out to me. “If you’re certain, sign it now.” I looked at the contract. My name wasn’t on it yet. Once I signed, this wouldn’t be a discussion anymore. It would be a legal agreement. A marriage. One year of my life. One year with a man I barely knew. But somewhere across the city, my mother was waiting for treatment that I couldn’t afford. I reached for the pen. I didn’t know if I was saving my mother’s life or making a huge mistake. I signed anyway.