Chapter 1
1062 Words
The hospital room was cold, silent, except for the steady beep of the monitor beside the bed. Felicia stood frozen at the foot, her eyes glassy, holding back the flood behind them. On the bed, her mother, Olivia, lay unconscious, pale and motionless.
Dad, please… save her, she whispered, her voice trembling.
Across the room, Johnson, reeking of whiskey, let out a low, bitter chuckle. He wobbled slightly, clutching a half-empty bottle in one hand and a crumpled photo in the other.
Save her? he repeated, raising a brow. Do you have any idea what a surgery like that costs? He waved the photo in the air.
I’d rather spend that kind of money finding you a new mom. What do you think of her? He smirked, flashing the image of a stranger.
Felicia’s hands clenched into fists as her vision blurred with tears. She reached out, grabbing his wrist.
How could you? She broke her back for you. Paid off your gambling debts. And now you throw her away like trash?
Johnson jerked his arm free.
Don’t guilt me, Felicia. I’m tapped out. He leaned in, eyes glassy, words slurred with venom.
You want to save your mother? Then earn it.
His gaze raked over her with cruel suggestion.
That face, that body, you could make a killing on your back for your old man. He laughed, low and bitter.
Some ‘old man’ you are, she said, breath catching in her throat.
Tears finally spilled over as her voice cracked.
You make me sick.
He turned his back on her, wobbling toward the door.
Then start picking out a grave, he muttered, disappearing without another glance.
Felicia sat at the edge of the hospital bed, her eyes locked on her mother’s fragile, unmoving face. A storm swirled behind her gaze, tears threatening to spill but barely holding.
The door creaked open, and a nurse stepped in, urgency in her tone.
Miss Felicia… the surgery deposit is due now. Your mother needs the operation immediately.
Felicia nodded slowly, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She looked back at her mother, gently brushing a strand of graying hair from her forehead. Then, with trembling hands, she reached into her bag and pulled out her phone.
She hesitated….then dialed.
Roy… I need your help. My mom she’s really sick. It’s urgent. She needs surgery, and I…
The voice on the other end cut her off, cold and careless.
Not my problem. If you need cash, go find some guy who’ll pay for your company.
Felicia froze, breath catching in her throat. Her eyes welled up.
What… what did you just say? she whispered, voice cracking.
A dry chuckle followed.
You want the truth? I only stuck around because you were hot. But now? Treating me like an ATM? Don’t call me again.
Click.
The line went dead.
Felicia sucked in a sharp breath, her shoulders trembling. She leaned closer to her mother, her voice barely a whisper, soft enough not to stir the silence in the room.
Even Roy turned his back on me, she murmured, eyes stinging. It’s just me now… and I have to save you, Mom. I will. No matter what it takes.
She blinked back the tears, swallowing the lump in her throat. Her gaze fell on a small card resting on the bedside table one she hadn’t noticed before. Curiosity and desperation pulled her hand toward it.
A number. A name. A clinic.
Compensation for Egg Donation was printed boldly across the front.
Felicia stared at it for a long moment. Then, without another word, she slipped the card into her pocket, stood tall, and quietly left the room carrying nothing but her fear, her love, and a promise.
Felicia dialed the number with shaky fingers, her breath uneven as the line rang.
I heard you pay thirty thousand per egg, she said quietly. Can I… sell more than one?
She didn’t wait for a response. She ended the call, turned around, and walked blindly through the hospital corridor, grief weighing her steps. Her foot caught on the edge of a rug, and she stumbled forward.
Strong hands caught her mid-fall.
She looked up, straight into the eyes of a stranger. Not just any stranger, he was striking. Tailored suit. Clean scent. Quiet power. His touch was steady, yet his gaze was unreadable.
Daniel Andrew. Young, wealthy, single, and cursed by time.
They both instinctively bent to pick up the card that had slipped from Felicia’s hand. Their fingers brushed. His eyes flicked down, reading the words on the card.
Egg donor, he read aloud, a hint of surprise in his voice.
He looked at her again. Thirty thousand? A pause. Is that what you think your body is worth?
Felicia's eyes narrowed. Her voice was tight but low.
Give it back, p*****t.
She snatched the card from his hand and turned away.
He caught her wrist gently, not letting her go just yet.
I didn’t mean it like that, he said, softer now. She turned slightly, lips parted but silent.
If you died on that operating table for thirty thousand dollars, he added, would it have been worth it?
Then he released her, walking off into the night without another word.
Felicia stood frozen. Her legs trembled beneath her. Her mother’s pale face haunted her memory. The world felt heavier than ever. She bit down hard, the pain grounding her, but the tears still threatened to spill.
Hours passed. She wandered the streets in silence. It was late. The sky cracked open, and the rain poured down.
A sleek, black car pulled up beside her.
The window rolled down.
Daniel.
She stepped closer, soaked and shivering. Her voice was raw.
Egg donor, she said, almost mockingly. You said thirty thousand dollars was cheap. So tell me, how much would you pay for me?
His jaw tightened. There was something between anger and disbelief in his eyes.
So that’s all it takes? he asked coldly. A few thousand more… and you’d sell yourself?
Their eyes locked again, this time with something more than tension. A question lingered between them; neither of them was ready to answer.
I’m still a virgin. Please, pay for my first night. I have no other choice.
The man behind the wheel didn’t flinch. His eyes, unreadable.
Get in, he said flatly.
- Writer
