the cold billionaire's contract wife

The first thing Anna smelled was antiseptic. The second was fear. It clung to the hospital waiting area, thick and suffocating, settling deep in her chest as she ran inside. Her eyes scanned the room wildly—until she saw her mother. Mrs. Williams sat hunched on a metal bench, her shoulders shaking. Her hands trembled so badly she could barely keep her handbag from slipping to the floor. “Mom!” Anna rushed to her side. Her mother looked up sharply. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot, dark circles carved beneath them like bruises. She looked like someone who hadn’t slept… or breathed… all night. “Anna…” Mrs. Williams gasped, her voice breaking. “Mom, how is Daddy?” Anna asked, panic tightening her throat. “What did the doctor say?” Mrs. Williams turned her gaze toward the emergency ward. A red light blinked steadily above the closed doors. “The doctor hasn’t come out since they rushed him in,” she sobbed. “Not once.” Anna’s chest tightened. She wrapped her arms around her mother, holding her as tightly as she could. “Daddy will be fine,” she whispered, though fear clawed at her heart. “He has to be.” Mrs. Williams shook silently in her arms. “I hope so… I hope so,” she murmured, her voice raw with pain. They both knew hope wasn’t enough. Mr. Williams had been battling kidney cancer for five years. Five long years of pain, borrowed time, and impossible choices. They had never been able to afford the surgery. Never had enough money. So they waited. And now, time had run out. Earlier that morning, he collapsed. Now he was fighting for his life behind those doors. Anna closed her eyes and prayed—not for miracles, but for money. Because without it, her father would die. The emergency room doors suddenly swung open. A doctor stepped out. Anna and her mother rushed toward him at once. “Mrs. Williams,” the doctor said gently, but his expression was grave. “Your husband’s condition is critical. He needs surgery immediately.” The words struck like a blow. Mrs. Williams gasped. Her knees gave way, and she sank back into the chair, her hands flying to her mouth. “S-surgery?” she whispered. “How… how much will it cost?” The doctor hesitated. Anna already knew the answer. Too much. “Oh God…” Mrs. Williams broke down, clutching Anna’s arm. “Anna, what do we do? We don’t have that kind of money.” Anna took her mother’s shaking hands in hers, forcing calm into her voice. “Mom, listen to me. I’ll get the money.” Mrs. Williams looked at her in horror. “From where? Anna, you can’t—” “What about Uncle Tony?” The words tasted bitter on Anna’s tongue. Her mother stiffened instantly. “No!” Mrs. Williams said sharply. “Absolutely not. You know your uncle. He never gives without taking something in return. Something cruel.” Mrs. Williams would do anything to save her husband—but not at the cost of her daughter. Never that. Anna looked away. She remembered Uncle Tony’s cold smile. His cruel laughter. The way he reminded her mother—again and again—that she was only adopted. How he seized the entire family inheritance and left them with nothing. But desperation left no room for pride. “I’ll borrow it,” Anna said quietly but firmly. “Even if he hates us, he won’t refuse a loan. Whatever condition he gives… I’ll accept it.” Her mother grabbed her shoulders, eyes filled with tears. “Then let me go. I’ll beg him myself.” Anna shook her head. “No. He’ll crush you.” She cupped her mother’s face gently. “Trust me, Mom. I’ll be back.” Mrs. Williams broke down, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. “Please be careful, Anna.” Anna nodded. Then she turned and walked out of the hospital, her heart pounding with dread. Tony Mansion The iron gates loomed like a prison entrance. Everything about the mansion screamed power—polished marble floors, crystal lights, silence heavy with authority. Anna felt small the moment she stepped inside. A guard escorted her into the living room. Mr. Tony sat on a leather sofa, legs crossed, a newspaper in hand. He didn’t look up immediately. When he finally did, his lips curled into a mocking smile. “Well, well,” he drawled. “If it isn’t the brave little niece.” Anna forced herself to bow her head. “Good afternoon, Uncle.” He folded the newspaper slowly. “What do you want? I don’t give charity.” Swallowing her pride, Anna said, “My father collapsed today. He needs surgery. Immediately.” Tony raised an eyebrow. “That man is still alive?” The words were sharp. Cruel. Unnecessary. Anna felt it then. He wanted her father dead. “Please,” she whispered. “I’m not asking for a gift. Just a loan. I’ll pay you back.” Tony scoffed. “Why would I lend you that much money? I don’t have it lying around.” A lie. They both knew it. Footsteps echoed from the staircase. Mrs. Tony appeared with their daughter, both wearing polite smiles that didn’t reach their eyes. “Anna,” Mrs. Tony said sweetly. “What a surprise.” She leaned in and whispered something into Tony’s ear. Whatever it was made his expression change. Slowly, a disturbing smile spread across his face. “I’ve changed my mind,” Tony said. Anna’s heart leapt. “Y-you will help us?” “Yes,” he said calmly. “I’ll give you the money.” Relief crashed over her. “Thank you—thank you so much—” “But first,” he interrupted coldly, “you must meet someone.” Anna froze. “Meet… someone?” Tony leaned back, his eyes dark with amusement. “Yes. And once you do… there’s no turning back. I will get you the money.” Why do I have to meet this person?” Anna asked, her voice tight with unease. “You don’t need to know,” Uncle Tony replied coldly. “Meet him, and I’ll give you the money. Are you interested—or not?” Anna’s fingers curled into her palm. Her father’s pale face flashed in her mind. The hospital smell. The blinking machines. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I’ll meet him… as long as you will lend me the money.” Tony’s lips curved into a smile that made her skin crawl. “You have my word.” Beside him, Mrs. Tony’s smile was sharp and mocking. “Dani,” she said lazily, “take Anna upstairs. Get her into something more… presentable.” Presentation?