The Delivery Boy's Contract Bride

CHAPTER : 1 Rain hammered the streets of New York as Adrian Cole rode his old motorcycle through the crowded traffic, desperately trying to complete his final delivery of the night. "Please, just one more delivery," he muttered, glancing at the cracked screen of his phone. "If I complete this order before midnight, I'll finally have enough money to pay the hospital bill." His phone vibrated. A message from the hospital appeared on the screen. URGENT: YOUR MOTHER'S MEDICAL PAYMENT IS OVERDUE. PLEASE CONTACT THE BILLING DEPARTMENT IMMEDIATELY. Adrian's grip tightened around the handlebar. "Just give me three more days," he whispered, as if someone at the hospital could hear him through the rain. "I'll arrange the money somehow. I promise." He had no father, no wealthy relatives, and no one willing to help him. His adoptive mother, Margaret Cole, had raised him with whatever little she possessed. Now, when she needed him most, he could barely afford her treatment. A loud horn startled him. "Hey! Are you planning to die on this road?" a furious driver shouted through his open window. "Move your useless motorcycle!" Adrian looked back apologetically. "Sorry, sir! I'll move!" "People like you shouldn't be allowed on the road!" Adrian said nothing. He had learned that arguing with people who looked down on him only wasted time he could spend earning money. Ten minutes later, he arrived outside a magnificent mansion in Manhattan. He checked the delivery address twice. "Seriously? A single dinner order costs more than my weekly groceries," he murmured, looking at the elegant building behind its enormous iron gates. A security guard approached him with a suspicious expression. "Who are you, and what do you want?" "I'm here to deliver an order, sir. The customer placed it through the application." The guard glanced at Adrian's wet jacket and muddy shoes before laughing. "You expect me to believe someone inside this mansion ordered food from a delivery boy who looks like he slept in a garbage bin?" Adrian swallowed his anger. "You can check the order number. I'm only doing my job." Before the guard could answer, a woman's irritated voice came from behind them. "What's taking so long? I've been waiting for my dinner for twenty minutes!" A beautiful young woman descended the mansion's front steps. She wore an elegant black dress, and her long brown hair fell over her shoulders. Even beneath the soft golden lights, her expression was cold enough to make the guard immediately straighten his posture. "Miss Hart, I'm sorry," the guard said quickly. "This delivery boy was causing a problem." Adrian turned toward him in disbelief. "I wasn't causing any problem. You wouldn't even let me explain." The woman looked directly at Adrian. "Did you bring my order?" "Yes, ma'am. Here it is." He handed her the paper bag carefully, protecting it from the rain with his jacket. She opened it and examined the containers. "Where is the dessert?" Adrian checked the receipt. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but the restaurant didn't include a dessert in the order. The receipt shows only the main course." She held up her phone. "I paid for the complete meal. Are you suggesting that I'm lying?" "No, ma'am. I'm saying the restaurant may have made a mistake. I can contact them immediately." "How convenient. You people always have an excuse." Adrian stared at her, struggling to remain polite. "With respect, ma'am, I delivered exactly what the restaurant gave me. Please don't blame me for something I didn't do." Her eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me how I should behave in my own house?" "No. I'm only asking you to be fair." For a moment, neither of them spoke. The guard stepped forward, eager to defend his employer. "Miss Hart, shall I call the police? These delivery boys sometimes steal food and then demand extra payment." Adrian's face hardened. "Call them if you want. I haven't stolen anything." The woman studied him more carefully. Unlike most people who came to her mansion, he wasn't trying to flatter her or beg for money. Despite his soaked clothes and exhausted face, he was looking straight at her. "What's your name?" she asked unexpectedly. "Adrian Cole." "And how much do you earn in a month, Adrian Cole?" He frowned at the strange question. "Why does that matter?" "Answer me." "Enough to survive, ma'am. Not enough to live comfortably." A faint smile appeared on her lips. "At least you're honest." She took several banknotes from her purse and held them toward him. "Take this. Consider it compensation for your trouble." Adrian glanced at the money. It was more than he usually earned in three days. "I can't accept this." Her smile disappeared. "Excuse me?" "You paid for a delivery. I completed it. If there's a problem, I'll contact the restaurant. I don't need charity." The guard burst out laughing. "Did you hear that, Miss Hart? A poor delivery boy refusing money! Perhaps he's pretending to be a gentleman." Adrian turned toward him. "I may be poor, but that doesn't mean you can buy my self-respect." The woman's expression changed. For the first time that evening, she looked genuinely surprised. "You're either incredibly foolish or unusually proud," she said. "Perhaps I'm just tired of being treated like I'm worth less than everyone else." He turned to leave. "Wait." Adrian stopped and looked back. The woman approached him, lowering her voice so the guard wouldn't hear everything. "My name is Isabella Hart. My father founded Hartwell International, and my family controls businesses worth billions of dollars." Adrian nodded politely. "Congratulations, ma'am. I hope your businesses do well." Isabella stared at him as if he had spoken a foreign language. "Do you have any idea who I am?" "You just told me." "And you're not impressed?" "Should I be?" For several seconds, Isabella said nothing. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed. "You really are different." "With respect, Miss Hart, I'm late for my next shift. If there's nothing else, I should leave." He started toward his motorcycle, but her next words made him stop. "I need a husband." Adrian slowly turned around. "I'm sorry. What did you just say?" "I need a husband," she repeated calmly. "And I think you might be exactly the person I'm looking for." He stared at her, wondering whether the rain had finally affected his hearing. "Miss Hart, I deliver food. I don't know anything about your family, and I've never even met you before tonight." "That's precisely why you're suitable." "That makes absolutely no sense." "Then let me explain. My father died six months ago. His will contains a condition that gives me control of his remaining shares only if I'm married before my twenty-fifth birthday. My birthday is next month." Adrian folded his arms. "Surely there are hundreds of rich men who would happily marry you." "Unfortunately, most of them want my money, my connections, or control over my company. The man I marry must sign a legal agreement protecting my inheritance." "And you think a delivery boy is your solution?" "I think someone who doesn't care about my wealth might be." Adrian almost laughed. "Miss Hart, you don't know anything about me." "Then I'll pay to learn what I need to know." He immediately shook his head. "I'm not interested." "One year," she said. He stopped again. "What?" "A one-year contract marriage. You will live with me, attend family events, and play the role of my devoted husband. In exchange, I'll pay you five million dollars." Adrian's mouth fell open. Five million dollars. That amount could pay his mother's medical bills, secure her treatment, and change their lives forever. But something about the offer frightened him more than it tempted him. "Why me?" he asked quietly. "Because my stepbrother, Damian, believes he can frighten any man who marries me into leaving. He won't take a poor delivery boy seriously until it's too late." "And what happens if I refuse?" "Then I'll find someone else." Adrian looked at the money still in her hand, then at the luxurious mansion behind her. "I need time to think." "You have twenty-four hours." She handed him a black business card. "Come to my office tomorrow morning at nine. If you accept, my lawyer will prepare the agreement. If you don't, forget this conversation ever happened." Adrian took the card reluctantly. "One more question, Miss Hart. If this is only a business arrangement, why do you look so frightened?" Isabella's confident expression vanished. Before she could answer, a black car pulled up beside the mansion. A man in an expensive charcoal suit stepped out, holding a telephone. He looked at Adrian, then at Isabella, and his face twisted with contempt. "Isabella, who is this beggar?" "Damian, this is Adrian Cole." Damian laughed. "Another one of your little charity projects?" "He's leaving," Isabella replied sharply. Damian ignored her and walked toward Adrian. "Listen carefully, delivery boy. Whatever my stepsister has promised you, forget it. You don't belong anywhere near this family." Adrian met his gaze. "I wasn't aware I needed your permission to stand on a public road." Damian's smile disappeared. "You arrogant little nobody." "Damian, stop it!" Isabella snapped. But Damian had already pulled out his phone. He stared at the screen, and the color suddenly drained from his face. "That's impossible," he whispered. Isabella frowned. "What is it?" Damian looked from his phone to Adrian, then back again. "Adrian Cole," he repeated slowly. "Where did you get that name?" Adrian's stomach tightened. "From my mother, obviously. Why?" Damian took a step backward. For the first time, the powerful businessman looked genuinely terrified. He turned toward Isabella and spoke in a trembling voice. "Do you know who you've just offered to marry?" "He's a delivery boy. What are you talking about?" Damian raised his phone. On the screen was an old photograph of a newborn baby wrapped in a white blanket, beside a silver bracelet engraved with two words. ADRIAN COLE. Below the photograph was a confidential message from an unknown sender. THE MISSING HEIR HAS BEEN FOUND. IF ADRIAN COLE DISCOVERS THE TRUTH, THE ENTIRE HART FAMILY WILL BE DESTROYED. Adrian stared at the photograph. He recognized the bracelet. His mother had kept an identical one locked inside an old wooden box for as long as he could remember. He had asked her about it once, when he was twelve. She had cried and told him never to mention it again. Now, standing beneath the rain-soaked lights of the Hart mansion, Adrian realized that the woman who had raised him might have been hiding something far more terrible than he had ever imagined. Damian slowly lowered his phone. Then he looked Adrian directly in the eyes and whispered the words that changed everything. "Your mother didn't adopt you because she wanted a child, Adrian. She took you because someone paid her to hide you." Adrian felt the world tilt beneath his feet. "What did you just say?" Damian opened his mouth to answer. But before a single word escaped, Isabella's phone rang. She answered it, listened for three seconds, and went completely pale. A man's cold voice came through the speaker. "Miss Hart, cancel the marriage proposal immediately. If Adrian Cole spends another night believing he's an ordinary delivery boy, he might survive." The caller paused. "But if you tell him whose son he really is, someone will kill him before sunrise."