THE BILLIONAIRE'S CONTRACT WIFE

Elara Quinn had exactly $312.47 in her bank account. And her mother had thirty days to live. "The surgery is $50,000, Miss Quinn without it, your mother won't make it past the month." The doctor's words kept replaying in her head as she sat in the tiny flower shop even hospital bill was already overdue. Three nights ago, her best friend Chloe had forced her to do something desperate. "Just post it, Elara! One dinner could pay for your mom's meds!" Chloe had begged. So Elara posted on a site where rich men pay for companionship her photo,no face just her hands holding pink roses, with the caption: Florist, 24, Needs help, Not that kind of girl. She deleted it after ten minutes, ashamed. But ten minutes was enough for Damien to see it. The bell jingled. A man walked in, not a customer. A storm in a black suit. Damien Thorne, 32, Billionaire. The man who owned half the city and felt nothing for anyone in it. "I have a proposition for you, Miss Quinn," he said, placing a black folder on the dusty counter. He slid his phone forward, on it her deleted photo. "I saw your post. You said you needed help,I'm here to give you exactly that." Elara's blood ran cold "That was a mistake,I deleted it!" "And I saved it," he said coldly,"My grandfather needs me to get married in order for the Thorne legacy continue." "What does that have to do with me?" He opened the folder inside was a contract and a check of $50,000. "Be my wife for thirty days,live in Thorne Manor, wear the ring and convince my grandfather,he hands over my father's company to me and after thirty days, you leave,divorced with an extra $50,000 for yourself." She stared at the words _CONTRACT MARRIAGE_ stamped in bold red. "And if I say no?" His eyes darkened. "Then you know what to expect of your mom" Tears burned her eyes "Is this a threat?" "It's a business deal" He slid a sleek black pen towards her, his fingers brushing hers. She looked at her mother's hospital bills on the counter and at the man who could ruin her or save her with one signature. Her hand shook as she picked up the pen. "Sign here, Miss Quinn," he whispered, leaning close. "Thirty days as my wife, and your mother lives."