An Unexpected Call
804 Words
“Hello? Who’s this?”
Savannah’s voice came out sharper than intended, brittle from too little sleep and too much worry. She pressed the phone between her shoulder and ear, rubbing her temple as if she could knead away the stress clawing at her skull.
Silence. Long enough to make her stomach twist.
She almost hung up.
Then,
“Jackson Sterling.”
Her breath hitched. That name carried weight. Every news headline, every whispered conversation about billion-dollar takeovers and ruined competitors, he was always at the center. And now his voice, smooth as silk, was right here in her living room.
“You shouldn’t have my number,” she snapped. But they both knew people like Jackson didn’t need permission. They took what they wanted.
He ignored her accusation. “You’re behind on your mortgage. The bank issued final notice.”
Savannah shot upright, heart pounding. “You’ve been prying into my life?”
“Prying?” His low chuckle rolled through the line. “No, Ms. Montgomery. I don’t pry. I monitor. Numbers, properties, debts. You’re just another asset on a spreadsheet.”
She gritted her teeth. “So I’m a line item now? Planning to buy my house when it’s gone? Congratulations, you’ll own one more broken life.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” he said lightly. “I don’t want your house.” A pause. “I want you.”
The words slammed into her. For a second, she forgot how to breathe. “Excuse me?”
“I’m offering a solution,” Jackson continued, his tone all business. “Marry me. It’s a contract, not a romance. You get your house, your father’s care, financial security. I get what I need.”
Her pulse roared in her ears. “You think this is some kind of joke?”
“Good,” he said. “Because I’m not laughing.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. Savannah paced to the window, clutching the curtain edge. The world outside moved on, ordinary and untouched, while hers teetered on the edge of madness.
“You think I’d marry a stranger to pay off my debt? You sound insane,” she hissed.
“I think,” he said, his voice suddenly cool and razor-sharp, “that your pride is the only thing keeping you from survival. But pride doesn’t pay bills. It doesn’t save homes.”
The words cut too deep because they were true. Savannah’s hand trembled, nails biting into her palm. “Why me?” she asked quietly. “You could have anyone.”
“I don’t need anyone,” he said. “I need someone desperate enough to keep her mouth shut. Someone with nothing left to lose. Someone I can trust not to ruin me.”
Her jaw tightened. “You think I’m desperate?”
“I know you are.”
Her anger cracked. “I don’t need saving from you.”
“Yes, you do,” he said simply.
The quiet that followed was unbearable. Savannah pressed her hand against the cold glass of the window. Outside, the city lights blurred. Inside, her heart warred with itself, rage, humiliation, and something darker she couldn’t name.
“You think you can buy me?” she finally said, voice trembling but defiant. “I’m not for sale, Jackson Sterling.”
“You’re not,” he replied. “But your situation is. And I own it.”
Her breath caught, half fury, half disbelief. “You don’t own me.”
“Not yet,” he murmured, and the way he said it made the air feel heavier.
Savannah’s hand clenched around the phone. “I need time.”
“You don’t have time,” he said, his tone turning final, immovable. “Decide, Savannah. Now.”
The line went dead.
Savannah lowered the phone slowly, every muscle locked. She stood in the dim light of her living room, listening to the hollow echo of his command reverberate through her chest. Outside, wind rattled the windowpane. Inside, her pulse thundered like a trapped bird.
For a long moment, she didn’t move. Then her legs gave out, and she sank onto the couch, the phone still warm in her hand. Her eyes darted toward the foreclosure notice pinned on the fridge, its black print stark and merciless.
Her pride whispered no.
Her survival screamed yes.
Jackson Sterling had cornered her neatly, no threats, no shouting, just quiet dominance that left her trembling. He’d stripped her of every illusion she’d clung to, and in its place, he’d left an unbearable truth.
If she wanted to save everything she loved, she would have to walk straight into his world, and risk never coming back out.
Savannah knows she’s one phone call away from losing her freedom… or saving her life. But which one will it be?
- Writer
