BOUGHT by the BILLIONAIRE

CHAPTER 1 The rain had been relentless since early morning, starting as a soft drizzle before turning into sheets of water that hammered against the city streets. Elara Moore hurried down the wet sidewalk, her thin cardigan clinging to her arms, soaked through and heavy. Her hair stuck to her forehead, and each step squelched in her wet shoes. She barely noticed the chill—her chest was tight with worry, her mind occupied with thoughts she could barely bear. Earlier that morning, she had been fired. Not because she had failed, not because she had made a mistake, but because she had dared to stand up to a rude customer. “Useless,” he had sneered, his words cutting deeper than the rain soaking her now. Her manager had stood silently by, saying nothing, handing her a termination letter as if the word “downsizing” could sanitize the injustice. Elara had left the café without protest, holding her dignity like a fragile glass that had just been dropped. She had wanted to cry, to scream, to throw herself on the ground and let the world know it was unfair. But she had only walked, shoulders straight, head held high, and silently prayed she wouldn’t crumble before anyone. Then came the phone calls from the hospital. Three missed calls blinking on her cracked screen, each one a reminder that her world was collapsing faster than she could keep up. Her little brother Leo’s surgery was imminent. She had no money, no plan, no safety net. “Hello?” she whispered as she answered, her teeth chattering. “Miss Moore,” the nurse’s voice was gentle, almost careful. “We’ve been trying to reach you. Please come immediately. Your brother’s condition… it has worsened.” Elara’s stomach dropped. “I’m on my way,” she said, voice trembling. She hung up before another wave of panic could hit. She ran, splashing through puddles, ignoring the stares of commuters huddled under umbrellas. Her phone buzzed again. A message from Maya, her best friend since childhood: El, stop walking like the world’s ending. Call me. Elara couldn’t help a weak laugh as she typed back: It kind of is. By the time she reached the hospital, night had fallen, turning the streets into rivers of reflections from streetlights. Inside, the antiseptic smell hit her first, then the cold floor under her wet shoes. Her legs ached, her lungs burned, and yet she pushed forward, desperate to see Leo. Leo lay in a small hospital bed, frail and pale, the surrounding machines beeping quietly, monitoring every heartbeat and breath. He smiled weakly when he saw her. “You’re late,” he whispered. Elara bent over, brushing the damp hair from his forehead. “Traffic,” she lied. She couldn’t admit how powerless she felt, how small her own problems seemed next to his fragile body. The doctor approached, of serious expression. “We need the next phase of treatment immediately,” he said. “Delaying further reduces his chances.” “How much?” Elara asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The number he gave her was more than she could imagine, a figure so high it might as well have been written in a foreign currency. She swallowed, trying not to faint. “I… I just lost my job today,” she admitted. The doctor’s eyes softened, but the facts didn’t. “I’m sorry. The payment deadline cannot be moved.” Elara sank into a chair outside Leo’s room, hugging her knees. She couldn’t breathe. Not fully. Her life had been a constant balancing act between caring for her brother and surviving. Now it felt like the ground had been ripped from under her. Maya appeared at the door, umbrella in hand, shaking off the water. “You look like a drowned rat,” she said with a teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood. “And don’t even tell me it’s the job again. I can see it in your face.” Elara tried a weak smile. “It’s worse this time.” “Worse than being fired for defending yourself?” Maya asked, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t think it was possible.” Elara let out a humorless laugh, hiding her tears. “Leo… his surgery… I can’t afford it.” Maya’s expression softened. She slid into the seat beside Elara. “Okay, okay, don’t panic. Breathe. You’ll figure something out. You always do.” Elara shook her head. “This time… I don’t know. The number is impossible. And every second counts.” Maya reached out, gripping her hand. “Then you get creative. You find a miracle. You always do.” Elara’s phone buzzed again, drawing her attention. She unlocked it and froze. An ad blinked at her, simple and direct: Temporary Marriage. High Compensation. Serious Applicants Only. Her heart pounded. She scrolled past it, thinking it was a scam, something ridiculous. Then she paused. Scrolled back. The words “high compensation” burned themselves into her mind. Enough money to save Leo. Enough to breathe again. Maya noticed her staring. “What is it?” she asked. Elara hesitated. “It’s… a temporary marriage,” she whispered, almost laughing at the absurdity. Maya blinked. “You mean, like… pretend marriage? That’s… extreme, even for us.” Elara bit her lip. “I don’t have a choice. Leo… he can’t wait.” Maya squeezed her hand. “Then we plan. Carefully. You read every word, check everything. But if it’s real… maybe this is your miracle.” Elara nodded, swallowing hard. Her hands trembled as she clicked the link. The office address appeared. She stared at it, rain dripping down her face, and felt the weight of the choice pressing down. This was no longer just about survival—it was about crossing a line she had never thought she would. Pride, dignity, morality—all of it blurred into one desperate need to save her brother. “This is crazy,” she whispered to herself. But deep down, she knew she didn’t have another option. With a long, shuddering breath, Elara stepped into the rain, the city lights reflecting like fractured stars on the wet pavement, and made her choice. Her finger hovered. Then she clicked. The decision was made. There was no going back.