The Billionaire Secret Wife

Amelia Carter stared at the envelope in her hands. Two hundred thousand dollars. The number blurred as her eyes filled with tears. She blinked and looked again. It hadn't changed. $200,000. That was how much the hospital needed for Daniel's surgery. And it was exactly how much she didn't have. Amelia sat alone on the hard wooden chair outside the hospital room, listening to the steady beeping of machines behind the closed door. The hallway was nearly empty. It was well past midnight, and the fluorescent lights above her seemed far too bright for such a quiet place. Three weeks. Daniel had been in that hospital for three weeks. Three weeks of doctors, tests, bills, sleepless nights, and promises that everything would be okay. But now the doctors were running out of time. So was she. Amelia looked down at her hands. She had already sold almost everything she owned. Her phone. Her jewelry. Even the small gold necklace her mother had given her before she died. She had borrowed money from friends and relatives. She had taken two jobs and worked until her feet ached. She had skipped meals and pretended she wasn't hungry when Daniel asked if she had eaten. Still, it wasn't enough. Not even close. She pressed the envelope against her chest and closed her eyes. Please. Just give me a little more time. Footsteps echoed through the hallway. Amelia looked up. A man in a black suit was walking toward her. He looked completely out of place in the old hospital. His suit was perfectly tailored, his shoes polished, and a silver watch gleamed beneath his sleeve. He stopped in front of her. Miss Carter? Amelia stood. Yes? My name is Mr. Wilson. I represent Alexander Blackwood. The name immediately caught her attention. Everyone knew Alexander Blackwood. One of the youngest billionaires in the country. CEO of Blackwood International. His face appeared regularly in business magazines, usually beside some enormous number describing his latest acquisition. Amelia frowned. Why would Alexander Blackwood be looking for me? Mr. Wilson reached into his coat and handed her a small black card. Mr. Blackwood would like to speak with you. Amelia looked at the card. About what? He'll explain everything himself. She glanced toward Daniel's room. I don't have time for games. This isn't a game. Something in his voice made her look back at him. He knows about your brother's condition. Amelia's stomach tightened. How? Mr. Wilson didn't answer. Instead, he said, Mr. Blackwood wants to meet you tomorrow morning at ten. And if I refuse? Nothing happens. He turned away. Then he stopped. But if you accept, Mr. Blackwood may be able to solve your financial problem. Amelia stared at him. Why? Mr. Wilson gave her no answer. He simply walked away. Amelia watched him disappear around the corner. Then she looked at the black card in her hand. Alexander Blackwood. What could a billionaire possibly want from her? She looked toward Daniel's room. Whatever it was, she would find out. --- The next morning, Amelia stood outside Blackwood International and stared up at the enormous glass building. It seemed to disappear into the clouds. Luxury cars pulled up along the entrance. Men and women in expensive suits hurried through the revolving doors, talking into phones and carrying leather briefcases. Amelia looked down at herself. A simple cream blouse. A black skirt. Shoes she'd owned for three years. For the first time, she wondered whether she had made a mistake coming here. Maybe people like Alexander Blackwood didn't meet people like her. She almost turned around. Miss Carter? She turned. Mr. Wilson stood behind her. You came. I said I would. He gave a small nod. Please follow me. Inside, everything was quiet. Too quiet. Employees moved quickly through the polished lobby, speaking in low voices. Nobody seemed to laugh. Nobody seemed relaxed. Amelia followed Mr. Wilson into an elevator. He pressed the highest floor. As the doors closed, she looked at him. What exactly does Mr. Blackwood want from me? You'll find out soon. You keep saying that. For the first time, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. He prefers to explain his own decisions. The elevator reached the top floor. The doors opened. Mr. Wilson led her into a large office with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Behind a dark wooden desk sat a man. Alexander Blackwood. Amelia had seen photographs of him before. They hadn't prepared her for the real thing. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a perfectly fitted black suit. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his expression was calm. Almost too calm. But it was his eyes that caught her attention. Cold. Sharp. As though he could see through every excuse before she had the chance to make one. He closed the file in front of him. Sit. Amelia sat across from him. Alexander studied her for several seconds. You're twenty-four. Yes. You've been working two jobs while taking care of your brother. Yes. You have no criminal record, no gambling debts, and no history of substance abuse. Amelia's eyebrows drew together. You investigated me? I investigate everyone who enters my life. I don't plan to enter your life. Something flickered across his face. That's exactly what we're here to discuss. Amelia sat straighter. Mr. Blackwood, I was told you could help my brother. I can. Her heart jumped. How much? Everything. She stared at him. Everything? I'll pay for his surgery, his hospital bills, and any additional treatment he requires. For a moment, Amelia couldn't speak. She had spent weeks begging people for small amounts of money. This man had just offered to pay for everything. There had to be a catch. Why? Alexander leaned back in his chair. Because I want something from you. Her relief disappeared. What? He looked directly into her eyes. I want you to marry me. The room seemed to stop. Amelia blinked. I'm sorry? You heard me. You want me to marry you? Yes. A nervous laugh escaped her. This isn't funny. I'm not joking. Amelia stood. I think I should leave. Alexander didn't stop her. You can. Her hand reached the door. Then his voice stopped her. But your brother may not have enough time to wait for another solution. Amelia froze. Slowly, she turned around. Alexander was still sitting behind his desk. Calm. Patient. As if he hadn't just turned her entire world upside down. What kind of marriage? she asked. A private one. What does that mean? No wedding ceremony. No media announcement. No public appearances as my wife. Amelia stared at him. You want a secret wife. Yes. Why? Alexander's jaw tightened. My family believes they should choose the woman I marry. And you disagree? I have no intention of allowing my family to choose my wife. Amelia folded her arms. So you want to pretend we're married. No. His voice became firm. I want a legal marriage. Her eyes widened. For how long? One year. One year? After that, we divorce. Amelia looked away. This was insane. A billionaire was sitting in front of her, offering her four hundred thousand dollars to become his wife for one year. She should walk away. She knew that. But then Daniel's face appeared in her mind. His pale skin. His weak smile. The way he had whispered yesterday, Don't worry about me, Amy. She couldn't lose him. What are the rules? she asked. Alexander's expression remained unreadable. Three rules. He raised one finger. First, nobody can know about the marriage. A second finger. Second, you'll live in my house, but you'll have your own room. A third. Third, you will never interfere in my business or my family's affairs. Amelia nodded slowly. And what do I get? Two hundred thousand dollars immediately. Her breath caught. And after the divorce? Another two hundred thousand. Four hundred thousand dollars. Enough to save Daniel. Enough to pay every hospital bill. Enough to change her life. But something still bothered her. What happens if I fall in love with you? For the first time, Alexander looked genuinely surprised. It lasted only a second. Then his face became cold again. That won't happen. Amelia frowned. You sound very sure. I am. Why? Alexander's gaze drifted toward the window. Because I don't fall in love. There was something in his voice. Something Amelia couldn't quite understand. Pain. She was almost certain of it. She looked at him for another moment. Then she asked quietly, And what if you fall in love with me? His eyes returned to hers. It won't happen. Amelia almost smiled. You really like that answer. Because it's the truth. She looked down at the contract lying on his desk. Everything had already been prepared. Her name. His name. The conditions. The payments. The divorce. Alexander pushed a pen toward her. You don't have to decide now. How much time do I have? Until tonight. Amelia picked up the contract. Where am I supposed to stay if I agree? My house. Tonight? Yes. She looked at him suspiciously. You planned this very carefully. I don't do anything carelessly. Amelia stood, clutching the contract. Before she reached the door, she stopped. Mr. Blackwood? Yes? If I agree to this, I want one thing. His eyebrow lifted. What? My brother comes first. He will. I want the best doctors. You'll have them. And if something goes wrong— It won't. You don't know that. Alexander stood. For the first time, Amelia fully understood how imposing he was. He walked toward her and stopped a few feet away. I know enough to make sure he gets the best care possible. His eyes held hers. And I keep my promises. Amelia studied his face. Then she nodded. I'll give you my answer tonight. --- That evening, Amelia sat beside Daniel's hospital bed. He was sleeping. She watched his chest rise and fall beneath the thin blanket. He looked so young when he slept. She reached over and gently brushed his hair away from his forehead. I'm going to save you, she whispered. Her voice trembled. I promise. Her phone vibrated. She looked down. A message. Alexander Blackwood: Have you decided? Amelia stared at the screen. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard. She looked at Daniel again. Then she typed: Yes. The reply came almost immediately. Good. The marriage will take place tomorrow. Amelia's eyes widened. Tomorrow? She hadn't expected it to happen so quickly. Another message appeared. You will move into my house after the ceremony. She swallowed. Tomorrow, everything would change. She would become the secret wife of Alexander Blackwood. A man she barely knew. A man who claimed he didn't believe in love. A man who had promised her that their marriage would never become real. Amelia looked at her sleeping brother. She didn't know what waited for her beyond those hospital doors. She only knew one thing. She had made her choice. And tomorrow, she would become— Mrs. Alexander Blackwood.