THE 20 MILLION CONTRACT

*Chapter 1* _“Sign here. And don’t talk to me unless I talk to you.”_ The elevator doors opened to the 40th floor of MultiShield Tower and the cold hit me first. The room smelled like money and expensive cologne and something I couldn’t name. Fear, maybe. Stephen Charles didn’t look up when I walked in. He was behind a black desk that was bigger than my mother’s entire kitchen. Navy suit. White shirt. No tie. *30 years old* and he looked like he owned the air I was breathing. His secretary had called me 2 hours ago. “Mr. Charles will see you now. About your brother.” My hands were shaking. *I’m 20.* I should be in 300L at Uni. Instead I was here because Chidi’s heart was failing and we had no money. On the desk was a folder. Thick. _MARRIAGE CONTRACT_ was written on the top in bold. “My lawyer drew this up,” Stephen said. His voice was low. No warmth. Like he was reading stock prices. “20 million naira. For your brother’s surgery. In exchange, you marry me for 3 months.” I stared at him. “Excuse me?” “You heard me,” he said, finally looking up. Grey eyes. Cold. “Chidi Cullens. 12 years old. Needs surgery in London. Cost: 18 million. You have 2 million in debt from hospital bills. Your stepmother, Amanda, contacted my office.” My chest got tight. “Amanda sold me to you?” “Desperate people don’t ask questions,” he said. “You need the money. I need a wife for 3 months. For business reasons. You sign, we transfer the money today. You don’t, and your brother...” He didn’t finish. He slid the pen across the desk. I read the rules printed on page 2. Rule #1: _Stay in your room unless called._ Rule #2: _Don’t ask questions._ Rule #3: _Don’t talk unless spoken to._ Rule #4: _No contact with the Cullens. They sold you._ Tears burned my eyes. For Chidi. I picked up the pen. My signature looked small next to his. _Assumpta Cullens._ “Good,” he said, taking the papers. “The money will be in your account by 11pm. Sandra will show you to the guest wing. Do not come to my floor unless summoned.” I stood up. My legs felt like water. As I got to the door he said one last thing. “Assumpta. Don’t make me regret this.” I didn’t answer. I just closed the door behind me. Outside, I called the hospital. “The money is coming,” I whispered. “Chidi is going to live.”