Bound to the billionaire

Crossing path

Amira pov

The next morning, I woke up with something I hadn’t felt in weeks: a sliver of hope.

It wasn’t much, just a thread I was clinging to, but it was enough to drag me out of bed, wash up, and pull on a pair of jeans and a sweater. I didn’t bother with makeup; I didn’t have the energy. My reflection in the mirror looked pale and worn down, but today I kept telling myself things might finally take a turn.

Maya had said the loan people would help. She promised it was simple, quick, even if the interest wasn’t the best. “They don’t care about all that complicated credit stuff banks do,” she had said. And I believed her. Or at least, I needed to.

The city was already alive when I stepped outside, traffic buzzing, horns blaring, people hurrying down the sidewalks. The world felt too loud, too fast, while my chest was tight with nerves. On the bus ride, I rehearsed what I’d say: I’m Amira Blake, I need ten thousand dollars to cover urgent medical bills. I’ll pay it back however you want. Please, just give me the chance.

The loan office was on the second floor of a rundown building that smelled faintly of old paper and dust. A flickering fluorescent light buzzed overhead as I walked down the hallway, my shoes clicking against the worn linoleum. The door had a peeling sign: “Providence Lending Solutions.”

Inside, it looked nothing like the glossy banks you see in commercials. No polished marble floors, no friendly greeters. Just gray walls, a few mismatched chairs, and a desk with a stern-looking woman behind it. She barely glanced up when I stepped forward.

“Yes?” she said, her voice clipped.

I swallowed. “I… I’m here to apply for a loan. For medical expenses.”

She handed me a form, tapping her pen against the counter. “Fill this out. ID, employment, income details.”

My hands shook as I scribbled everything down, handing it back when I was done. She typed it into her computer, her face unreadable. I tried to read her expression, tried to guess whether the universe was finally about to give me a break.

After what felt like forever, she looked up. “Miss Blake, your application doesn’t qualify. Your income is too low to cover repayments. And your credit score is… insufficient.”

The words hit me like a slap. My mouth went dry. “But… it’s for my mother. She’s sick. She needs treatment, and I’ll find a way to repay”

She shook her head, cutting me off. “I’m sorry. We can’t approve you.”

It was like the ground shifted beneath me. I stared at her, waiting for her to soften, to offer me another option. But her face was stone, and when I realized there was no room for pleading, something inside me cracked.

I mumbled a thank you that sounded more like a whimper and stumbled out of the office.

The hallway blurred as tears burned my eyes. I gripped the stair rail, forcing myself not to break down in front of strangers. By the time I reached the street, my chest was heaving. I pressed my phone to my ear and called Maya.

She answered on the second ring. “Hey, did you get it?”

“No,” I choked out, my voice trembling. “They wouldn’t approve me. Said my income’s too low. Credit score’s bad. Maya, I…I thought this was it. I thought maybe…” My words trailed off into sobs I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Oh, Amira,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry. I really thought they’d help.”

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” I whispered, leaning against the brick wall of the building. “It feels like every door is slammed in my face.”

“Listen,” Maya said gently, “don’t spiral, okay? Why don’t we meet later? Our usual spot? We’ll sit, talk, maybe have a drink. You need to get out of your head for a while.”

I wiped my face with my sleeve, trying to steady my voice. “Yeah… okay. I think I need that.”

“Good. Text me when you’re free. And Amira? You’re not alone in this.”

After we hung up, I checked the time. It was still early, and for once, I didn’t have to rush back to the café. I had asked Rosa for the day off, telling her I needed to take care of family things. She gave me that look the one that says she thinks I’m unreliable but she didn’t say no.

Which meant I had one place I could go.

The hospital.

The antiseptic smell hit me the moment I walked through the doors, sharp and sterile. I hated it, hated how it clung to my clothes and my skin. But when I walked into Mom’s room and saw her lying there, her eyes fluttering open at the sound of my footsteps, I forgot all of that.

“Amira,” she whispered, her voice faint but warm.

“Hi, Mom.” I forced a smile, slipping into the chair beside her bed. “How are you feeling?”

She gave a weak laugh. “Like I’ve wrestled with an elephant. But seeing you makes it better.”

My throat tightened, but I kept my smile steady. “Well, then I’ll just have to stay here forever.”

We talked for a while, about little things neighbors, the weather, even the café. I tried to keep the conversation light, because I didn’t want her to see the storm raging inside me. But then she reached for my hand, her fingers cold against mine.

“Amira,” she said softly, “promise me something.”

“What is it?”

“When the time comes… I want you to have love. Real love. Don’t let this world harden you. Don’t settle for less than someone who truly cherishes you.”

The words cut deeper than I expected. I nodded quickly, but my chest ached. “Mom, let’s not talk about that now. You’ll get better. We’ll have all the time in the world to worry about love later.”

She gave me a knowing look but didn’t push. “All right. But remember my words.”

I stayed with her a while longer, brushing her hair back from her face, trying to memorize every detail of her smile. Eventually, I stood to leave, promising I’d come back soon.

As I stepped into the corridor, I wasn’t watching where I was going. My mind was still with Mom, still heavy with her words. So when I turned a corner too fast, I collided into someone.

“Oh!” I gasped, stumbling back.

The woman I bumped into was elderly, her hair silver, her posture regal despite her age. She looked startled but quickly steadied herself.

“I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, reaching out instinctively. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Before she could reply, a tall figure appeared at her side. A man, sharply dressed in a tailored suit, his presence commanding. His jaw tightened as he looked at me, eyes narrowing.

“Watch where you’re going,” he snapped, his voice cold. “You could’ve hurt her.”

My cheeks burned. “I…I didn’t mean to. I’m really sorry.”

His glare was sharp enough to cut glass. “Sorry doesn’t undo carelessness.”

Before I could stammer out another apology, the older woman laid a hand on his arm. “Damien,” she said firmly, her voice carrying quiet authority. “That’s enough.”

He turned to her, his expression softening instantly. “Grandma, she could’ve”

“She didn’t,” his grandmother interrupted, her eyes kind as she looked back at me. “Accidents happen. And this young lady apologized sincerely. That’s more than enough.”

I lowered my gaze, murmuring again, “I’m truly sorry.”

The old woman smiled gently. “Don’t worry, dear. You’ve done no harm.” Then she turned to the young man standing next to her which seemed to me to be her grandson her tone sharper. “You should learn to speak with more grace, especially to someone who’s done nothing wrong.”

I saw the flicker of irritation in his eyes, but he said nothing, jaw tightening as he looked away.

My heart was still racing, my face hot with embarrassment. I nodded quickly, clutching my bag. “Thank you… I’ll be more careful next time.”

With that, I slipped away down the corridor, eager to disappear before my humiliation deepened.

But as I walked off, I couldn’t shake the weight of his eyes on me or the strange warmth in his grandmother’s smile.