The Deal With The Alpha

Chapter 3: The Billion-Dollar Insult

The shrill ringing of my phone dragged me out of a sleep that felt too short. I fumbled for it on the nightstand, my head throbbing with exhaustion. The digital clock read just past 8:00 AM. I squinted at the screen; the number was completely unfamiliar.

“Hello?” I mumbled, my voice rough.

“Good morning, Miss Smith. My name is Drake Wellington.” The voice on the other end was smooth and professional.

Alpha Kilian Judge’s secretary. My heart immediately leaped into my throat, a sudden surge of fear replacing the morning grogginess.

“Mr. Wellington,” I repeated, sitting bolt upright. “Is something wrong? Did I make a mistake last night?” My mind raced through the orders I’d served, terrified I’d broken a glass or offended a guest. I couldn’t afford to lose my job.

“On the contrary, Miss Smith. The Alpha was… very impressed.” There was a pause that felt strangely calculating. “He would like to have a private discussion with you at the end of your shift tonight. He needs to see you in Executive Suite 1802 at midnight.”

My hands were shaking as I held the phone. A private meeting with the Alpha? It sounded less like a job opportunity and more like a summon. “A private discussion? About what, exactly? I’m just a waitress.”

“It concerns a matter of business that requires your utmost discretion,” Drake replied, his tone assuring but firm. “Please understand, this is not a request that you can decline. The Alpha expects you at midnight. He values punctuality.” He hung up before I could manage another question.

I stared at the phone, my mind spinning. Was I getting fired? Had I stumbled upon some secret he wanted silenced? Thinking about this, I stood up and got dressed, heading to the hospital.

At the hospital, Richard was stable but still weak. I leaned over his bed, whispering my worries to him. “Something strange is happening, Rich. The Alpha wants to see me. I just hope I can keep this job.”

He blinked slowly. “Don’t let anyone scare you, Amb,” he managed, his voice strained. “You’re stronger than you think.” I held his hand until my phone alarm rang, reminding me I had to leave for my first shift. His words gave me a small, desperate sliver of courage.

The entire workday felt like I was walking toward a cliff edge. I kept my head down, serving guests, but my thoughts were consumed by the looming midnight deadline. Every time a door opened, I expected to see Drake Wellington there, confirming the summon. The hours crawled by with agonizing slowness.

Finally, my second shift ended. I was exhausted. It was 11:45 PM. I clocked out. I adjusted my uniform one last time as I prepared to go meet the Alpha, reminding myself that Richard’s survival was the only thing that mattered.

I knocked on the door of Suite 1802 precisely at midnight.

“Enter.” It was Alpha Kilian’s deep, emotionless voice.

I pushed the door open, stepping inside. Kilian Judge was standing exactly where he had been the night before, by the window overlooking the city. He wore a simple white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscled forearms, somehow making him look even more formidable. Drake Wellington stood a few feet away, holding a slim, leather-bound folder.

“Alpha,” I acknowledged, keeping my voice low and respectful.

Kilian turned slowly, his blue eyes sweeping over me with that same unnerving intensity. He didn’t offer me a seat.

“Miss Smith. Thank you for coming. Let’s dispense with the pleasantries.” He gestured toward Drake. “Drake, present the documents.”

Drake stepped forward, placing the leather folder on a nearby desk and opening it to reveal a thick contract. “Miss Smith, the Alpha is aware of your financial situation regarding Richard Benson’s surgery.” My breath caught in my throat. How did he know?

Kilian took a step toward me. “I have a business proposition for you, Amber. A simple exchange.” His voice was cold, transactional, like he was negotiating a stock price.

He walked past Drake and tapped a clean fingernail on the contract. “I will pay the five million dollars immediately, covering the surgery and all recovery expenses. And I will deposit an additional five billion dollars into an account under your name.”

I gasped, the sheer weight of the number making my head swim. My first coherent thought was: Richard will live.

“In exchange,” Kilian continued, leaning down slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “you will sign this contract and become my wife for one calendar year. This is a contract marriage.”

I stared at him, the reality of his words crushing the brief hope his offer had given me. My mind scrambled, trying to process the monstrous sum and the monstrous condition. A contract wife? I was supposed to sell myself, not just for the money, but for a bizarre transaction with a man who barely hid his disdain for me.

“You… you want to buy me,” I whispered, the words tasting bitter. My initial terror was rapidly changing into a furious, burning humiliation.

Kilian straightened, his expression utterly unmoved. “I am purchasing a temporary arrangement that suits my needs, and I am providing for yours. Do not mistake this for sentiment, Amber. It is a business transaction. No love, no claims, no expectations beyond appearing in public when required.”

“And what about the five billion?” I asked, my voice laced with disbelief.

“It’s the price of securing your loyalty and your silence for twelve months. It’s the price of a life,” he said coldly, his gaze daring me to argue. “You keep the money whether you stay or go after the year is up. All you have to do is sign.”

I looked at the thick contract, then at the man standing before me; arrogant, cold, offering me a gilded cage. Yes, Richard needed the money, but Kilian wasn’t offering me salvation; he was offering me a profound insult. He saw me as a commodity, desperate and easily purchased.

“No,” I said, the word ringing with a force I hadn’t known I possessed. My decision was instant and absolute.

Kilian’s cold mask finally cracked, replaced by a flicker of genuine surprise. “Excuse me?”

I took a deliberate step back toward the door. “I said no, Alpha. You are right, I am desperate, but Richard is not the only one I have to protect. I have my dignity.” Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “I will find another way to save him. I am not for sale!.”

Before he could speak, I turned sharply, flung open the heavy suite door, and ran out, leaving the billionaire Alpha and his offer behind in a wave of hot, stinging pride. I had nothing but my desperate hope, but I had refused the contract. Now I just had to figure out how to save Richard without his terrifying five billion dollars.