My Billionaire Boss Secret Heir

Chapter Three: The Devil's Proposal

Sophia Hart

I hailed a taxi the moment I stepped out of my apartment building. The yellow cab pulled over with a screech of tires, and I slipped into the back seat.

The interior smelled like stale coffee and old air freshener. I barely noticed. My mind was somewhere else entirely. For the third time in ten minutes, I rummaged through my handbag, pushing aside lip gloss, crumpled receipts, tissues, and loose coins.

My fingers searched desperately for the USB drive containing Ethan Blackwell's revised Q4 reports. Please be here.

Please. Relief washed through me when my fingers finally closed around the tiny device. Thank God.

If I had left it on my kitchen counter, I would have been finished. Not figuratively.

Actually finished. Working for Ethan Blackwell meant mistakes weren't tolerated. Especially expensive mistakes.

I leaned back against the worn leather seat and stared out the window. Every day, I told myself I should quit. Every single day. Then reality reminded me why I couldn't.

Before Blackwell Enterprises, I'd worked as a cleaner in a furniture warehouse.

The pay had barely covered groceries.

There weren't many opportunities waiting for people like me. Not without connections. Not without powerful family members. Not without degrees from elite universities. The world rewarded privilege.

Everyone else fought for scraps.

At least this job paid enough to keep my mother in a hospital bed instead of leaving her untreated. At least Leo could stay in school. My little brother deserved more than the life we'd been given.

So I endured Ethan Blackwell. Because I didn't have a choice. The taxi finally pulled up in front of Blackwell Enterprises.

The massive glass building towered above the city like a monument to wealth and power. I paid the driver and climbed out.

The moment my feet touched the pavement, a familiar voice called my name.

"Sophia!"

I froze. Of course. Emeka.

I turned to find him jogging toward me with his usual easy smile. He worked in accounting and had been flirting with me for nearly a year. Despite my repeated attempts to discourage him.

"You look amazing today," he said.

I forced a polite smile. "Good morning, Emeka."

His grin widened. "No, seriously. You're glowing."

I nearly choked. Glowing? If only he knew. I hadn't slept properly in days. I was drowning in debt. My mother was battling cancer. And I had discovered I was pregnant with my billionaire boss's child.

Glowing was the last word I would have used.

"You should keep doing whatever you're doing," Emeka continued. "It's working."

I laughed nervously. "I'll keep that in mind."

Before he could continue, my phone vibrated.

The notification appeared instantly. Ethan Blackwell Come to my office. Immediately.

My stomach dropped. Immediately. Never a good sign.

"I have to go," I said quickly.

Emeka looked disappointed.

"Maybe lunch later?" "We'll see."

Which was my usual way of saying no.

Without waiting for a response, I hurried into the building.

The elevator ride felt unusually long. I stood alone inside the mirrored cabin as floor numbers flashed above the doors.

Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Each second stretched endlessly. My palms grew damp. Did he know?

The thought wouldn't leave me alone. Had he somehow found out? No. Impossible. Nobody knew. Not even my mother. Not even Leo. Just me. And four pregnancy tests hidden in my bathroom trash.

The elevator finally stopped. The doors slid open. I stepped onto the executive floor. The receptionist nodded politely as I passed.

A few moments later, I stood outside Ethan's office. I knocked once.

"Come in." His voice was calm. Cold. Controlled. Just like always. I pushed the door open.

Ethan sat behind his enormous desk. The morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, casting the city skyline in gold. Without looking up, he gestured toward the chair opposite him.

"Sit."

I obeyed. Silence filled the room. Ethan continued reviewing documents as though I weren't there. One minute passed. Then two. Then five.

The tension became unbearable. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. Finally, he set his pen down. His gray eyes lifted to meet mine. For some reason, that felt worse.

"Sophia."

The way he said my name made my stomach tighten.

"Yes, Mr. Blackwell?"

"I need a favor."

I blinked. A favor? That wasn't what I expected.

"What kind of favor?"

His expression remained unreadable. Businesslike. Emotionless.

As if he were discussing quarterly profits.

"I need a wife."

For a moment, I wondered if I'd heard him correctly. My brain simply stopped working.

"What?"

"I need a wife," he repeated.

My mouth opened. Then closed. Then it opened again. Nothing came out. Ethan leaned back in his chair.

"My grandfather's will contains certain conditions regarding my inheritance and control of the company."

I stared at him. Still unable to process what was happening.

"If I am not married before my thirtieth birthday, I lose voting control."

The room felt strangely small. "You want me to help you find someone?"

"No."

His answer came immediately. My pulse quickened. "No?"

His gaze locked onto mine. "I want you to marry me."

The world stopped. Every sound disappeared. Every thought vanished. I could only stare at him. Surely this was some kind of joke. But Ethan Blackwell didn't joke. Ever.

"I can't marry you."

The words escaped before I could stop them. His expression didn't change.

"You can."

"No."

"You will be compensated."

I almost laughed. Compensated. As though marriage were another business transaction. Maybe to him it was.

"I said no."

For the first time, something dangerous flickered in his eyes. Not anger. Determination.

"The contract includes ten million dollars." My breath caught. Ten million. The number hit me like a physical blow. Ten million dollars. Enough to pay every hospital bill. Enough to clear my father's debts. Enough to secure Leo's future. Enough to save my family.

Ethan folded his hands together. "Think carefully before you answer."

I sat frozen in the chair. Terrified. Conflicted. Trapped. Because for the first time in my life, the solution to all my problems was sitting directly across from me. And he looked exactly like the devil.

My devil. And he had just made it official.