Chapter 3 : Contract Marriage
1148 Words
Henrietta’s POV
"The operation needs to commence now."
The doctor’s words echoed in my head like a relentless drum, pounding over and over again as I stepped out of his office. My body moved on autopilot, my hands clutching the strap of my worn-out bag as if it were the only thing anchoring me to reality.
I walked through the hospital corridor, the scent of antiseptic burning my nose. Doctors and nurses passed me, their faces neutral, their steps quick and purposeful. No one spared me a glance. No one saw the storm raging inside me.
But my world was falling apart.
I swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from spilling. My brother had fallen again—another accident that proved how fragile his condition was. And now, the damage was worse. The doctors said he needed immediate surgery.
But the cost…
I had been saving for years, taking extra shifts at the bar, cutting back on everything I could. Yet, even after all the sacrifices, all the sleepless nights, it still wasn’t enough.
I sucked in a shaky breath as I stepped outside the hospital. The chilly evening air stung my skin, but it wasn’t enough to numb the pain gnawing at my chest.
I needed money. Fast.
My fingers trembled as I pulled out my phone. My last hope rested in one person—Annabelle.
She answered after three rings. "Hey, babe. What’s up?"
Her voice was light, unaware of the chaos tearing me apart inside.
"Annabelle," I croaked, forcing down the lump in my throat. "I need your help."
There was a pause, followed by a quiet sigh. "Henrietta… is this about your brother?"
I closed my eyes. "Please. I just need—anything."
She cursed under her breath. "Damn it. I wish I had something to give you, but things are tight for me too right now."
My heart sank, and I gripped the phone tighter. I had put all my hopes on Annabelle, praying she might have some solution, some miracle. But of course, she had her own struggles.
"I understand," I murmured, even though the weight of hopelessness settled heavy in my chest.
"But listen," Annabelle said quickly. "There’s this company—Gold Enterprises. They’re hiring, and maybe if you get in, you could find a way to get what you need."
"Gold Enterprises?"
"Yeah, they’re crazy rich, babe. It’s worth a shot."
She sent me the address, and I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t have the luxury of waiting or second-guessing myself.
I had no other options.
---
The massive structure of Gold Enterprises loomed over me, its glass windows reflecting the city lights, its golden accents shining like an emblem of untouchable wealth. Just standing in front of it made me feel small. Insignificant.
But I wasn’t here to admire the building.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside. The cool air-conditioning hit me instantly, making me shiver. My boots clicked against the polished marble floor as I approached the front desk, trying to ignore the uneasy stares I was receiving from the well-dressed professionals passing by.
"Hi," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I’m here for a job application."
The receptionist barely glanced at me. "What position?"
I hesitated. "I—I heard there was an opening for a secretary?"
She finally looked up, her gaze scanning me from head to toe. I knew what she saw—cheap clothes, worn-out shoes, desperation written all over my face.
She sighed and picked up the phone, speaking in hushed tones. My heart pounded as I waited, my hands clenched into fists.
After a moment, she looked back at me. "You can go up," she said, gesturing toward the elevators. "Last office on the right."
I murmured a thank-you and hurried over, my stomach twisting with nerves.
I didn’t know what I expected, but when I stepped into the office, my heart nearly stopped.
Sitting behind the massive desk, exuding the same air of arrogance I remembered, was him.
Raphael.
The man from that night.
For a second, he looked just as surprised as I felt. Then a slow, smug smirk spread across his face.
"Well, well," he drawled, leaning back in his chair. "Look who it is."
I felt my face heat up. The last time we met, I had stormed out, fuming with rage, after waking up in his bed. And now… here I was, standing in his office, asking for a job.
I swallowed my pride, forcing my expression into neutrality. "I’m sorry for how I acted the last time we met," I said, keeping my voice even. "I was… upset. But that’s not why I’m here."
He raised a brow, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Oh? Then why *are* you here?"
I clenched my fists. "I need a job."
His smirk deepened. "And you thought my company would be the perfect place to find one?"
I lifted my chin. "I just need a chance."
For the first time, something shifted in his gaze—curiosity, maybe. He studied me for a long moment before exhaling.
"The secretary position has already been filled," he said.
My stomach dropped. "Oh."
The weight of disappointment pressed against my chest. My last hope was slipping through my fingers.
"But," he added, tilting his head, "that wasn’t really the position I was hiring for."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
He tapped his fingers against the desk. "I need a wife."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," he said, his voice calm. "My father has given me an ultimatum—find a wife or lose my inheritance. And you…" His gaze swept over me, calculating. "You might just be the perfect candidate."
I stared at him like he had lost his mind. "Are you insane?"
"Possibly," he admitted, his smirk never fading. "But I’m willing to make it worth your while."
He pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the desk toward me.
I hesitated before picking it up, my fingers trembling.
The amount written there made my breath hitch.
It was more than enough. More than enough to pay for my brother’s surgery. More than enough to pull us out of the never-ending cycle of suffering.
I swallowed hard, my pulse racing. "You’re serious about this?"
"Completely."
I should have said no.
I should have walked away.
But I thought about my brother. The hospital. The doctor’s urgent words.
I had nothing left to lose.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze to Raphael. He was watching me, a knowing look in his dark eyes, like he could already see the answer forming in my head.
I took a deep breath.
"Alright," I whispered. "I’ll do it."
His smirk widened. He stood up, walking around the desk until he was directly in front of me.
"Good choice," he murmured.
Then, he extended his hand.
"Come with me."
- Writer
