The Billionaire Who Ruined Me: Our Fatal Arrangement

Aria's POV "Miss Chen, this is the Anderson contract. The one we've been negotiating for six months." I nod at my supervisor. My hands won't stop shaking, so I press them flat against my thighs under the desk. It's been three days into this temp job at Blackwood Industries, and it still feels like I'm trespassing. "Get it to the legal department by noon," she says. "Mr. Blackwood is reviewing it personally this afternoon." Mr. Blackwood. The CEO. The man I've only seen in photos on the lobby wall. Cold eyes. Expensive suit. The kind of power that makes regular people invisible. "I got this," I say. I wish I do. Two hours later, I'm standing in front of my supervisor's desk while she stares at the screen of her computer. The color drains from her face. When she finally looks up at me, I can already tell something is not right. "You sent the Anderson contract to the wrong office." "What?" My stomach drops. "You sent it to the client. It hasn't even been legally reviewed yet. Before Mr. Blackwood approved it." She looks at me, really mad. "The deal is dead. They walked. Fifty million dollars." The air in the room gets thin. I can hear my pulse in my ears. The fluorescent lights overhead buzz too loud. Everything feels too bright, too close, too much. "I can fix it. I can call them, I can explain..." "Security will escort you out." Her voice is cold now. "Mr. Blackwood wants you gone. His exact words were 'Get her out of my sight.'" My throat closes up. "Please. I need this job. My mother is..." "I'm sorry, Aria." I bet she is not. I don't remember leaving the building. One minute I'm standing in her office, I'm on the subway the next minute, staring at my reflection in the dirty window. And just like that, I'm in the hospital corridor with the hospital bill in my hand, but I honestly have no memory of how I got here. The doctor explains the surgery timeline again. Mom's weak smile. Vee's hand in mine. The bill that might as well say one million dollars for all the difference it makes. I go home. Try to sleep. Can't. The next two days blur together. Job applications that go nowhere. Phone calls to insurance companies that lead to dead ends. Standing in front of Mom's hospital room because I can't afford to go inside and pretend everything's fine. It's been three days now, and I'm at the hospital. Again. Standing in the corridor that smells like disinfectant and with this stupid bill in my hand. $20,000. Twenty thousand dollars for Mom's surgery. The one she needs or she'll die. Twenty thousand dollars for the surgery that will save my mother's life. Twenty thousand dollars I don't have. Especially now that I just lost my job. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I should probably ignore it. Maybe another debt collector? Or somebody asking for money... I don't know. But something makes me answer. "Miss Chen." I freeze. That voice. No. No no no. Not him. Anyone but him. "This is Edward Blackwood." My legs feel weak. I grab the wall so I don't fall. The hospital bill fell from my other hand. Edward Blackwood. The billionaire CEO. The man whose merger I destroyed three days ago. The man who looked at me across that boardroom and said "Get her out of my sight." Why is he calling me? What does he want? "Mr. Blackwood, I..." My voice is shaking. "I'm so sorry. The contract mix-up was a mistake. I didn't mean to mess up your deal." "I'm not calling for an apology." Around me, the hospital keeps moving. Nurses rush past. Machines beep. Someone cries behind a closed door. But I can't focus on any of it. Just his voice in my ear, calm and cold. "You cost my company a deal worth millions," he says. "Mistake or not, Miss Chen, there are consequences." My throat goes dry. "I don't have money. I can barely afford..." "I know exactly what you can't afford." He doesn't raise his voice. Doesn't need to. "Your mother's surgery. The bills piling up. Your brother's expenses. Shall I continue?" The corridor tilts. He knows about Mom. About Vee. About all of it. "How do you know that?" "I make it my business to know everything about people who cost me money." Something rustles on his end. Papers maybe. "Twenty thousand dollars for your mother's surgery. Correct?" My vision blurs. I touch my face and my fingers come away wet. When did I start crying? "Yes, but I don't see how that's..." "I'm offering you a solution." The sound that comes out of me is half laugh, half sob. "A solution? Unless you're planning to just... forget about the fifty million dollars, I don't see..." "Meet me tomorrow. Ten a.m. My office. Come alone." His voice drops, goes quieter. Somehow that's worse than if he'd yelled. "I have a proposal. Something that will solve both our problems." I wipe my face with my sleeve. "What kind of proposal?" "The kind we don't discuss over the phone." I hear papers shuffle. "Ten a.m., Miss Chen. The address will be sent to your phone. Don't be late." "Wait, I can't just..." "Unless you'd prefer I pursue legal action." He doesn't say anything for a few seconds. I can tell he's thinking. "A lawsuit would be unfortunate for someone in your position." The words "go to hell" sit on my tongue. Right there. Ready. It would feel so good to say them. To tell this arrogant bastard exactly where he can shove his lawsuit and his proposal and his business. I look down the corridor. Mom's room is three doors away. I swallow the words. "Why would you help me? I ruined your deal. Why not just sue me and be done with it?" He was silent. I even thought he hung up. Then he says, "Because you have something I need, Miss Chen. And I have something you desperately want. It's simple economics." His voice softens. Somehow that makes it worse. "Ten a.m. Don't disappoint me." The line goes dead. I don't move. The phone is still pressed to my ear even though the line is dead. My pulse pounds in my temples. Edward Blackwood just offered me a solution. Men like him don't help people. They use them. "Aria?" I turned around. Vincent stands behind me, his eight-year-old face full of worry. His sneakers were second hand, slightly too small, squeak against the linoleum floor. "Who was that?" he asks. "You look scared." I forced myself to smile and bent to his level. "Nobody, baby. Just... work stuff." He doesn't believe me. Vee is too smart for that now. "Is it about Mommy?" He says. "The money?" My chest tightens. I pull him close, breathe in the cheap shampoo smell of his hair. "I'm handling it, Vee. I promise." "You always say that." He's shaking a little. Or maybe I am. "But things keep getting worse." I pull him into my arms, breathing in the scent of cheap shampoo, feeling his small body. He's right. No matter how hard I work, how many jobs I juggle... we're drowning. And Edward Blackwood just threw me a rope. I just don't know what it'll cost me to grab it. I think about Brian. My old friend. The one who always knew what to say when things got bad. I wish I could call him. Ask him what to do. But I lost his number in the last move. I'm alone in this. "Go sit with Mommy," I whisper, wiping his tears. "I need to make a phone call." He nods and walks toward her room. I watch him go... this little boy who calls me sister, who resembles me so much. My phone buzzes. A text from the same unknown number. Blackwood Tower. 52nd Floor. 10:00 AM. Another message comes through immediately. Wear something presentable. This is business. I stare at the screen. At those two words. This is business. Right. Business. That's what billionaires call it when they own you. I shove my phone in my pocket and head toward Mom's room. Whatever Edward Blackwood wants from me, I'll give it. I don't have the luxury of pride anymore. I haven't had it for eight years.