Chapter 11.
1085 Words
Chapter 11: Deal with the Devil.
Dream Dauntson.
I still can’t believe he just offered to pay for the surgery—as if slapping a price tag on my daughter’s life makes everything okay.
With a heavy heart and a confused mind, I bolted out of the hospital like a madwoman running from a ghost. My heart pounded like a chaotic drum, echoing in my ears. The tears I’d tried so hard to hold back finally betrayed me, spilling freely down my cheeks.
Then I heard footsteps behind me. Of course, it was him.
"Miss Daunting Dream! Dream, wait!" he called, grabbing my hand.
I yanked it back like his touch burned.
"Don't touch me, Mr. Drowning Demon!"
He froze, like he’d been zapped with a taser.
“Please... let me help.”
I let out a scoff so loud a nearby nurse flinched.
"Help? If you really want to help, then just pay for Dorey's surgery and don’t ask for anything in return. No contracts, no conditions, no creepy marriage proposals. Just... help."
He looked away, stuffing his hands into his pockets like a guilty teenage boy caught sneaking into a nightclub.
"I can’t."
"Of course, you can’t," I hissed. "Because you’re not doing this for Dorey. You’re doing this for you."
"My mum loves you," he said, looking straight at me now.
“She wants me to marry you. And Dorey—she’ll be healthy again. She deserves a father figure, doesn’t she?”
"A father figure?!" I nearly choked. "What kind of father figure bribes a girl’s mother into marriage with a hospital bill?!"
"I don't care if you love me or not," he said calmly, too calmly. "So long as my mum loves you, it's fine by me."
I blinked. Once. Twice. Then narrowed my eyes.
"Well, I do care. I don’t love you. I will never love you, Mr. Drowning Demon. You annoy me. You frustrate me. You make me want to throw a shoe every time you talk."
"Perfect," he said, flashing the fakest smile I’d ever seen.
"Mutual emotional damage. Just what I like in a marriage."
Oh. My. God.
I sighed.
"I will marry you," I said, the words dragging out of me like sludge. "Only because of Dorey. And your mum. If not for those two, I wouldn’t touch this idea with a ten-foot pole wrapped in fire."
He gave me a deep, exaggerated bow.
"Thank you, my highest. I am honored to be your reluctant husband."
I rolled my eyes so hard they almost entered another dimension.
"Just like that, huh? A deal with the devil."
"No," I muttered under my breath. "Worse... a deal with Mr. Drowning Demon himself."
"We’re getting married in two weeks," he announced like a news anchor breaking the apocalypse.
"Excuse you?!" I snapped. "No, we are not."
He raised a brow.
"Why not?"
"Dorey’s surgery is next week. She needs time to heal. I’m not walking down the aisle while my daughter’s in bandages and morphine!"
He hesitated.
"Two months, then?"
I nodded.
"Two months. I need her to walk with me."
"Fine," he said, folding his arms.
"Two months. But don’t expect me to buy flowers."
"Wouldn’t dream of it," I muttered.
"You’re not that heartless after all."
He didn’t respond. But his jaw clenched. His eyes shifted. A flicker of doubt crossed his features.
Heartless? Is that how she sees me? he thought.
But all he did was give a dry chuckle.
I turned and walked back into the hospital without a backward glance. The fluorescent lights buzzed above as I entered Dorey’s room. She lay there, peaceful and unaware of the madness outside her hospital walls.
I walked to her bedside and gently kissed her forehead.
I rested my forehead against hers.
"For you, baby girl," I whispered, choking back a sob.
"For you... I made a deal with the devil—and smiled."
---
Devon Drawson's.
On my way home, my hands gripped the steering wheel like it owed me money.
Am I truly heartless?
I mean… nothing goes for nothing, right?
I pay for her daughter’s surgery. She marries me. Everyone wins. It’s business. It’s logic. It’s survival.
But then… she called me heartless.
Ouch.
I know I’m not exactly Prince Charming, but heartless? That hurt more than a slap with a wet mop.
I pulled into the driveway and slammed the car door harder than necessary. The house keeper flinched. Again.
"Sir, you’re back—"
"Not now, Gina."
I stormed into the living room.
"Dammy, you’re home!" Mum chirped. "How was your day, my sugar cookie?"
I cringed. Sugar cookie? Really?
"My day was... splendid."
"Splendid?" she raised a brow, suspicious. "What happened?"
I dropped onto the couch like I was auditioning for a dramatic movie.
"Miss Daunting Dream agreed to marry me."
There was a moment of silence.
Then she screamed.
Actually screamed.
A high-pitched, Mariah-Carey-shattering-glass kind of scream.
"AHHHHH! Oh my God! Really?!"
"Yes," I said, trying not to flinch from the volume. "But don’t scream too loud. The roof is still intact."
She rushed toward me, grabbed my face like I was five, and kissed my forehead.
"We have a wedding to plan!"
"Yeah, in two months."
"Why two months?!"
"Dorey’s surgery is next week. Miss Daunting Dream wants her to be healed and present."
"Dorey?! Who’s Dorey?"
"Miss Daunting Dream’s daughter," I responded casually.
Mum froze.
"Surgery?! Is my little granddaughter okay?"
"Yes," I responded. "She has a lung disease. She’s going for surgery next week, but she’ll be fine."
Mum’s face softened instantly.
"Aww. That girl is pure gold. I love her even more."
I snorted.
"She doesn’t love me."
"You’ll win her over," Mum said, brushing imaginary dust off my shoulder. "You’re charming."
"I’m sarcastic. There’s a difference."
She waved her hand.
"Semantics. Now, tux or traditional?"
I blinked.
"Mum, the wedding is in two months."
"And planning starts now. I need colors, themes, location, menu—oh, and we must invite the mayor."
"Mum, can we not invite the entire state? I just want to survive the vows without getting stabbed by a stiletto heel."
I groaned.
This was going to be a nightmare.
But then again... Miss Daunting Dream was now mine. For real.
Well... sort of.
At least for now.
And Dorey would have her surgery. She’d live. She’d smile again.
So maybe, just maybe, the deal with the devil wasn’t all bad.
Unless... I’m the devil.
And she just shook my hand.
- Writer
