The hospital smelled like bleach and heartbreak.
Leah Carter stood motionless outside the ICU, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if doing so could keep her world from crumbling. Inside, her mother lay unconscious, hooked to machines that beeped like time bombs counting down to the end.
"Miss Carter," the doctor called softly, stepping into the hallway with a clipboard in hand and tired eyes that had seen too many endings. "We’ve stabilized her, but she needs an urgent surgery. It’ll cost ₦8.5 million."
Leah’s heart dropped. "Eight… million?" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper. That was more than everything she and her mother had ever owned.
"Without it, she might not make it through the week."
Leah nodded slowly, trying to stay strong. But when the doctor left, she sank to the cold floor, hands trembling as she pulled out her phone. She dialed every contact she had. None answered. Those who did couldn’t help.
She wiped her tears and stepped outside into the chilly night. Her lips moved without sound. *“God… if You’re really there, please… show me a way. I’ll do anything.”*
As if summoned by her plea, a black SUV pulled up beside her.
The tinted window rolled down to reveal a man in a sleek suit. “Miss Leah Carter?” he asked.
She took a cautious step back. “Who are you?”
“I’m here on behalf of Mr. Xavier Blackwood. He has an offer for you.”
“Offer?” she repeated, suspicious.
The man gave a clipped nod. “A marriage contract. One year. You’ll be paid handsomely. Enough to cover your mother’s bills and more.”
Leah blinked. Was this a joke? “A marriage contract… with a stranger?”
“Not just any stranger. A billionaire.”
---
The next day, Leah stood at the grand iron gates of the Blackwood estate, feeling like a beggar walking into a castle.
The butler led her into a marble hallway so pristine she was afraid to breathe. And then she saw him—tall, sharp-jawed, and wearing a navy-blue suit that looked like it cost more than her apartment. Xavier Blackwood didn’t rise when she entered. He simply looked at her, eyes unreadable.
“You’re smaller than I imagined,” he said, voice low and cold.
Leah swallowed. “And you’re ruder than I imagined.”
A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes. “You’ll do.”
“Do for what, exactly?”
He slid a file across the glass table. “The contract. One year. No emotional attachments, no touching without consent, no falling in love. You play my perfect wife in front of the media. In return, your mother’s life is saved.”
Leah stared at the paper. Her throat tightened.
"Why me?" she whispered.
He stood, walked around the desk, and stopped just inches away. His cologne was rich and intoxicating.
“Because,” Xavier said, voice now a whisper, “you’re the only one I could find… who’s still untouched.”
Her eyes widened.
“And that,” he added, tilting her chin up with a single finger, “is exactly what I need.”
Leah’s breath hitched.
---
**To Be Continued…**