30 Days With Mr Billionaire

(New York City) (Ayla's POV) The piercing scream of my alarm clock jarred me awake, as it broke through the weird dream I was having. I jolted in fright, my body soaked in sweat as the images of the dream flashed in my head. Just then I looked at the time. 7:30 a.m. "Oh my god! Hillcrest interview!" It was by 8:00 AM and I hadn't even showered yet. I sprang out of bed, my legs tangling at the sheets as I ran into the bathroom. The hot shower helped to clear the fog in my mind, but I still couldn't shake the lingering images from the dream. There was fire everywhere and I heard someone screaming a name repeatedly. Sera. I shook my head forcefully, water drops spraying in all directions. "Focus Ayla." I told myself sternly. "Dreams won't pay Dad's hospital bills." I needed this Hillcrest job more than ever. I pulled on my finest business clothes, a navy blue suit that I had bought secondhand and altered to fit my petite figure. I stumbled out of the house with the now cold coffee in hand, waving down a taxi. "Hillcrest tower." I told him as soon as I got in. The ride to Hillcrest's downtown headquarters felt like forever. My palms were sweaty as I moved through the gleaming glass doors, my heels clicking on the marble floor. The receptionist, a young woman, smiled at me. "Ms. Ayla Marco?" I nodded. "Yes it's me.' "This way please." My heart was racing against my ribcage as I followed her down a corridor lined with expensive artwork. The conference room was intimidating, dark wood, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Three people occupied the far end of a massive table: two men in expensive suits and a woman with sharp eyes and a bright smile. "Please, have a seat," the woman said, gesturing to a chair facing them. "I'm Margaret Hart, and these are my colleagues, Dr. Harrison and Mr. Anthony." I smoothed my skirt and sat. "Thank you so much for this opportunity. I'm highly honored to be here." "We've looked at your academic credentials," Mrs Hart started. "Extremely impressive. But we require someone with a particular talent...the talent for engaging with ancient objects on a level beyond mere historical understanding." My heart skipped. "I believe I possess that talent, Ma'am." She gestured to Mr Anthony, who handed her a small object covered in a white cloth. "We want you to examine this piece of work. Take your time and tell us your findings." I leaned forward as the cloth was peeled away, revealing a strange, dark pendant, roughly triangular, shaped somewhat like a dragon and inscribed with faint symbols I hadn’t seen in years. I swallowed, trying to steady my breath. "Obsidian stone. Early Bronze Age work, perhaps ritual. The runes are old, older than the Nordic scripts. This object wasn't just decorative, it was used in binding rituals. Perhaps soul binding for reincarnation purposes." My voice rose as I spoke about the object. "From the energy and preservation, it was intentionally sealed with ancient blood magic. It is potentially deadly if not handled with care." The silence that followed lasted what felt like an eternity. Margaret then smiled. "Remarkable," she said softly. "Thank you, Miss Marco. We'll be in touch." She and her colleagues began taking notes. I bowed slightly and exited the room, my heart beat slowly returning to normal. As soon as I stepped into the waiting room, I heard my phone buzzing in my bag. Dr. Lowen. My heart skipped a beat as I answered it. "Hello, Doctor?" "Miss Marco? Your father… his condition has worsened. You need to come. Immediately." My heart pounded loudly. "Oh my God! I'm on my way." I arrived a few minutes later and ran down the hallway to the ICU, where Dr. Lowen was waiting. "How is he?" I inquired, my voice trembling. He wasn't smiling. "His vitals are unstable. The cancer has spread further than we had expected. We must operate as soon as possible or…" He didn't have to go on. I already knew what he meant. "I have some money with me," I said nervously, pulling out my checkbook. I wrote a check for two thousand dollars I had gotten from a private artifact evaluation last week. It was the last penny I had. "It's not the entire amount, but I can get the rest. I just need more time." Dr. Lowen put the check aside, his gaze at me filled with compassion. "Ayla, it's a start, but we need the whole amount before we proceed. The procedure is costing over a hundred thousand dollars and you don't even have an insurance to cover part of it." "How much more do I need to pay?" "Ninety-eight thousand." The amount hit me like a physical blow. How I'm I supposed to get that kind of money within forty-eight hours? "Please," I breathed, trying to blink back the tears threatening to fall. "He’s all I have left. Just give me a few more days. I’ll find the money somehow." "I understand your situation, and I wish I could help, but the hospital has policies. Without payment arrangements, we can’t schedule the surgery." "I understand. But please… just give me more time. I promise I’ll get the money." He sighed. "We can delay a day. Maybe two. But no more, Miss Marco. He’s fading." I nodded. "I understand." He simply nodded and left as I made my way to the room where Father lay. He looked so small and weak under the white hospital sheet, surrounded by machines and tubes gently beeping. He was nothing at all like the agile man who'd raised me after Mom died. "You're going to be okay, Dad," I whispered, the tears I've been holding back now flowing freely. "I'll make sure nothing happens to you. I'll get the money and you'll have your surgery. I promise." Just then my phone rang. It was an unknown number but I picked up anyways. "Hello?" "Miss Marco, this is Margaret from Hillcrest. I have wonderful news. We've decided to give you the job." I nearly dropped the phone. "Really? You’re serious?" "Absolutely. We were all thoroughly impressed with your presentation today. If you can make it back to the conference room in an hour, the job is yours." "Oh my God! I'll be there in a minute!" The words tumbled out of me so forcibly that a couple of nurses turned to look but I didn't mind. "Thank you so very much, Ma'am. You have no idea what this means to me." "Great. We'll be seeing you soon. Welcome to the Hillcrest family." She said and ended the call. I hung up and stared at the phone in disbelief. I’d gotten the job. After months of rejection letters and failed interviews, I had actually gotten the job. "Did you hear that, Dad?" I whispered, gently squeezing his hand. "I got the Hillcrest position. I finally got in. This is going to change everything for us." For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe again. The salary would be enough to cover Dad’s surgery. We were going to be okay. I quickly stood as I remembered I had less than an hour to get to the company. I practically flew out of the hospital as I rushed to get a cab. I stepped off the sidewalk, my phone pinned against my ear. I was so lost in my excitement that I didn’t notice the traffic light had changed. "Hailey, you’re not going to believe what just happened—" The screech of brakes cut through the air as I looked up just in time to see the car bearing down on me with lightning speed. The impact sent me flying through the air like a rag doll. The last thing I remember is the metallic taste of blood in my mouth and the distant sound of someone calling out to me as everything went black.