HIS CONTRACTED NIGHTMARE

Your father has only 30 days to live if you don't bring a hundred and fifty million dollars for his heart surgery,” the doctor announced, checking my father's weak heartbeat with an emotionless look on his face. “Please…. just do it. I promised to get the money before he would be allowed to leave. Don't let him die, he's the only family I have… I would do whatever it takes,” I pleaded, falling to the ground as my legs couldn't keep me up. “I'm sorry, Miss William. But my hands are tied even if I wanted to help. My job is at stake, and I have a family to fend for too,” he replied, bowing slightly as he left the room with the mute nurse who had slipped a free drug to me for Father—as she knew my poor state. I muttered a thank you while clasping my hands together, tears drenching my shirt. “Why are you crying, Sugarplum?” my father whispered, his voice weak and frail from the pain his condition had been putting him through. “I'm not crying, Papa. Something fell into my eyes,” I lied, smiling as I walked back to him, holding his hands to reassure him. “You are lying to Pap….” he trailed, falling asleep from the injections he had just been given a few minutes ago. Looking at him resting finally, I couldn't let him slip from my hands. I can't lose everything and be alone in this horrible world. The bill was outrageously high. I have been told 80 million—something is definitely wrong…. I have to do something……. Even if it would cost me everything. "Hey, it’s Stefan. I’m too busy living my f*****g best life to pick up. Leave a message, and if you’re lucky, I might call you back. Maybe.” For the fourteenth time, my boyfriend—Stefan—calls kept redirecting me to his voicemail. “Where is this human when I need him the most..” I snapped, throwing my phone to the passenger seat with annoyance. Leaving me no choice, I had to get to his house. He has connections; he could help—that I hoped desperately. So I switched lanes and drove to his house. Getting in wasn't a problem; I had a spare key, so I was in in no time. As I stepped into Stefan's house, the first sound I heard wasn't his loud blaring music or the smell of burnt meals, but a moan. A masculine moan, and I stopped on my tracks. Stefan's friends brought a woman to his house? He hated that. I dropped my bag and ran to his room, only to stop on my tracks—wincing as it felt like my heart had been pulled out of its sockets. Stefan being f****d by another man. I wasn't homophobic, f**k that. But was this why he started giving me attitude? Why he never wanted to have s*x with me? “Stefan?” I called, and they paused, looking up at me, and soon disconnected when he saw it was me. “What are you doing here? I can explain…. it's not what you think, please….” “Why did you keep me all these years if you knew you liked men? Why did you hurt me and make me feel less of a woman? Why?” I burst into tears and ran away without listening to his begging or his flaccid d**k now dangling between his legs as he chased after me. With that, I went into a taxi. I would get my car later, stopped at the pharmacy, got tons of drugs Papa would need, and I got into the taxi again after successfully hitting everyone who was on the same lane as me. My hands shaking with fear and pain. Why was everything happening to me all at once? Was Fate playing a game with my fate? My phone rang, and I picked it up immediately when I saw the caller. Ivy. “Where have you been? I have been calling you for days, Miss William. Don't f*****g get me scared and make me lose my shits,” Ivy yelled, and a smile crept up my face. “I'm sorry. These past few days have been hell.” “I know. I'm sorry that I can't be with you. But we need my salary…..” “You don't have to, please.” “Nonsense. How much did the doctor say we would need?” she asked, cutting me off. “150 million dollars..” I said, bursting into tears at the extremely ridiculous amount. “We would have to smuggle drugs now,” she said. No humour was traceable in her voice, which means she meant this. “I will call you back,” she said, ending the call abruptly, and I winced. What was she up to? “I can help,” a deep masculine voice said, and I flinched, my phone falling to my thighs, my heart pounding against my rib cage. “What are you doing in my taxi?” I asked, getting my shits together and my voice hardening. “You are in my car, woman,” he replied calmly, turning towards me with a smirk on his face. I looked around, completely shocked at the interior. This was definitely not a cab. “Oh my f*****g goodness. I'm sorry, I will get down now,” I replied, cursing myself inwardly for making such mistakes. “I would give you the 150 million you would need…..” I stopped with my hand on the door's opening button. My heart stopped for a minute. A stranger helping me? Something deadly must be attached to this.. “And what would you get out of it?” I asked cautiously. “You can't possibly be just doing me a favour. Not possible. You are a bad man, and I know your type,” I sassed back, wrong, but I couldn't help it, judging from the tattoos on his hands and the gun I saw him slip back discreetly when he thought I wasn't watching. The doors unlocked, and I got down immediately without waiting for a go-ahead. But his next words stopped me on my tracks, reminding me of what I thought I had buried—or who. “Smart. You will be my bride for 60 days, Фиеста-бомбы, Feisty bomb. It's time to pay your wages…” That name…. only one person could call me that… Him.