"MY BOSS'S CONTRACT BABY"

PROLOGUE: THE ACCIDENT

DISCLAIMER

This story is a work of fiction. All characters are 18 years old and above.

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Zian's POV

6 Months Ago

The call came at 2:17 AM.

I was in Singapore, closing a 3-billion deal. My phone vibrated on the mahogany table.

Nina: Sir. It's your sister. Car accident. SLEX. They're in the ICU.

The pen slipped from my hand.

"What?" My voice didn't sound like mine.

"Which hospital?"

"St. Luke's. Sir... she's not... Luna is asking for you."

I was on the next flight. Private jet. 1 hour and 20 minutes felt like a year.

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and grief.

My sister, Aira, was in a coma. Tubes everywhere. The woman who raised me after our parents died. The only family I had left.

And in the corner of the room, sitting on a chair too big for her...

Luna.

4 years old. Pink dress. No shoes. Holding a teddy bear. Staring at the wall.

"Luna." I knelt in front of her. "Tito Zian is here."

She didn't blink.

The doctor pulled me aside. "Mr. Castro, your sister sustained major head trauma. We're doing everything we can. And your niece... she hasn't spoken since the accident. Trauma-induced mutism."

"She'll talk," I said. "She's just scared."

"She might not." The doctor's voice was gentle. "It could take months. Years. Or she might never—"

"Don't say that."

Three days later, Aira died.

The funeral was a blur. Black suits. Black umbrellas. People saying "I'm so sorry" like it meant something.

Luna didn't cry. Not once.

She just sat beside the casket, holding her teddy bear, and stared.

---

One Month Later

The mansion was too quiet.

Nannies came and went. Therapists. Child psychologists. All of them left with the same report:

Patient shows signs of severe emotional trauma. Recommend family environment.

Family.

I didn't have one. Not anymore.

I had companies. Board meetings. Deals.

I didn't have time to be a father to a 4-year-old who wouldn't speak.

Until the day I found her in my office.

It was midnight. I was working. And there she was, standing by my desk.

"Mommy?" she whispered.

My heart stopped. "Luna? You spoke."

She looked at me, confused. Then shook her head and ran out.

She never spoke again after that.

---

5 Months Later

Another therapist quit today.

"Mr. Castro, Luna needs consistency. She needs a mother figure. Not a rotation of staff."

I slammed my fist on the desk. "Then find me one!"

"Sir, with all due respect... money can't buy that."

That night I couldn't sleep. I walked through the empty mansion. Past Aira's room. Past Luna's room.

Luna was asleep. The nightlight cast shadows on her face. She looked so small.

In her sleep, she whispered it again.

"Mommy?"

I stood there for an hour, watching her.

And I made a decision.

If money couldn't buy a mother...

Then I'd buy a contract.

---

Present Day

My lawyer slid the folder across my desk.

"Contract marriage agreement. 1 year. 5 million. Standard NDA."

"Find me a girl," I said. "Desperate. No family except maybe one. Pregnant is fine. The more desperate, the better. She won't run."

"Sir, that's—"

"Do it."

I didn't want to feel anything.

I didn't want to care.

I just wanted Luna to say "Mommy" again and mean it.

Even if it was a lie.

Even if it would destroy me in the end.

END OF PROLOGUE