The sky outside was a dreary shade of gray, matching the storm inside Emily Carter's mind. She sat hunched on the edge of a cracked vinyl chair in the hospital corridor, her fingers nervously twisting the strap of her worn leather bag. The air was thick with the sterile scent of disinfectant, and each passing second dragged like a lifetime.
Another test. Another bill. Another dead end.
The doctor's words from earlier still rang in her ears.
"Without surgery, your mother has less than a month. I'm sorry, Miss Carter."
Sorry. The word felt hollow. Empty.
Emily blinked rapidly, refusing to let tears fall. She had cried enough. Now wasn't the time for weakness—it was the time to act. But what could she do? The insurance company had rejected her appeal. The charity lists were endless. And her savings wouldn't even cover the deposit for the hospital bed.
She leaned back and closed her eyes, her body slumping like a puppet with cut strings.
There's no way out… unless…
Her thoughts paused, circling back to that email she had ignored days ago—sent by someone she didn't know, containing an offer that felt both outrageous and unreal.
> A legal marriage. One year. No strings. Full confidentiality. Immediate financial compensation.
She had laughed when she first read it. Who would agree to marry a stranger for money? But now, her mother's pale, sleeping face flashed in her mind, and the laughter died.
Would it really be that crazy… if it could save her?
Emily opened her phone with trembling fingers, scrolled to her trash folder, and restored the email. Her thumb hovered over the reply button.
One deep breath.
Then she typed:
> I accept your proposal. Please send the next steps.
The reply came less than a minute later.
> Meet me tonight. 8 PM. The Grandworth Hotel, Suite 1902. Come alone. Everything will be arranged.
No name. No pleasantries.
Her heart thundered as she stared at the message. The sensible part of her screamed to delete it. But desperation had a way of silencing logic.
---
By 7:50 PM, Emily stood in front of the Grandworth Hotel. Her plain white dress clung to her body from the rain, her coat doing little to shield her from the cold. She had barely enough money for a cab, let alone an umbrella.
Inside, the warmth of the marble-floored lobby wrapped around her like a trap. A man in a tailored black suit approached.
"Miss Emily Carter?" he asked with a courteous smile. "Follow me."
She hesitated, then nodded, clutching her purse as if it held courage. The elevator rose silently, each floor increasing the tension in her chest.
When the doors opened, she stepped into a private suite—soft lighting, luxurious decor, and a single man seated by the window, his silhouette cast in shadow.
"Thank you, James," he said to the assistant. The man bowed and left.
Emily's eyes locked on the figure.
He stood. Tall. Sharp jawline. Cold eyes that studied her like a puzzle.
"Mr. Knight," he said simply, extending his hand. "Alexander Knight."
So this was the man behind the offer.
"You're… real," she whispered, unsure whether to feel relieved or more terrified.
"I don't play games, Miss Carter. I'm a businessman. This is a transaction, not a romance."
He moved to a desk and retrieved a folder.
"The contract outlines everything. One year of marriage. Public appearances when required. You follow my lead. No emotional attachment. No interference in my affairs. In return, you'll receive one hundred thousand pounds tonight. Another hundred at the end of the contract. All legal."
He placed the papers in front of her.
Emily glanced through the document. It was thorough. Cold. Like a job offer.
"Why me?" she asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alexander tilted his head slightly. "You're discreet. Desperate. And most importantly—you can be trusted not to fall in love."
The words stung more than she expected.
Emily swallowed hard. Her mother's face flickered in her mind again. Frail. Fading.
She picked up the pen and signed.
"I'll do it," she said, voice steady. "For my mum."
****
That night, as she returned home, the payment alert buzzed on her phone. Her bank account had transformed. Her mum's surgery could happen by morning.
But the weight on her chest had only grown heavier.
She was now Emily Knight—wife to a man she barely knew, bound by vows that weren't built on love, but on desperation.
And somewhere deep inside, she couldn't shake the feeling that this deal… would change everything.
****