Amara's POV
I couldn't stop thinking about it.
That card.
That offer.
That ridiculous, disgusting, manipulative man and his stupid, silver-lettered business card.
It was still in my bag. Still whole. Still untouched.
I should've torn it in half.
I should've burned it.
Instead, I sat beside Leo's bed, staring at him like he could give me the answers I didn't want to say out loud.
His chest rose and fell steadily under the thin blanket. A tangle of wires peeked out from under his sleeve. His little hand twitched, then settled.
I brushed his hair back from his forehead. It had grown a little since the last time I remembered to ask the nurse for a trim.
"I don't know what to do, Leo," I whispered. "Everything's falling apart."
My voice cracked, just a little.
"They fired me. They stopped your treatment. They're saying horrible things I didn't even do." I paused, forcing the air out of my chest. "And now this man this cold, heartless, impossible man wants me to play pretend like we're some fairytale couple for a hundred days."
Leo didn't respond. Of course he didn't.
But I kept talking, softer now. Almost to myself.
"He says he'll pay for your treatments. Everything. Upfront."
Silence.
Tighter silence than I could handle.
I looked down at my hands. "But what happens to me after that? What happens when it's over and he moves on like I was nothing more than a line in his schedule?"
I leaned forward, pressing my forehead gently against the edge of Leo's bed.
"I want to say no so badly, Leo," I whispered. "But I need to save you more than I need to stay proud."
A tear slipped down my cheek.
"I'd do anything for you," I murmured. "Even this."
I sat there a little longer, until the quiet wasn't crushing anymore.
Until I could breathe again without falling apart.
Then I stood.
And reached for the card
I stared at the number on the card.
It almost felt like it was staring back.
Taunting me.
Mocking me.
Saying, go ahead, call him to see if you're really that desperate.
I held my breath and dialed.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then clicked.
I didn't even get to say hello.
"Well, well," came that deep voice, slow and dry with amusement. "Took you long enough."
I froze.
No greeting. No "Who is this?" Not even a pretense of politeness.
Just well, well.
I gritted my teeth. "I'm ready."
A pause. A breath.
"Good," he said, like we were discussing a package, not a person's entire dignity. "My PA will pick you up tomorrow at 9 a.m. sharp. Be dressed. We have paperwork."
And then....
Click.
He hung up.
Just like that.
I stared at the screen.
"Seriously?" I muttered.
I yanked the phone away from my ear and scowled at the call log like it was his face. "I called you, you overgrown ego sandwich. And you hang up on me?"
I let out a frustrated breath and tossed the phone on the couch beside me.
Then flopped back onto the pillow next to Leo, one arm over my face.
"This better be worth it," I groaned, voice muffled.
He stirred beside me in his sleep, brow furrowing slightly. I reached over and smoothed it again.
"For you," I whispered. "Only for you."
-------
The next day
"Amara... hey, Amara…"
Someone was shaking me gently.
I blinked against the morning light bleeding through the curtains. My voice came out groggy. "What time is it?"
"Too early for you to be this dramatic," Zaria muttered, arms crossed, standing over me with that same look she always gave me whenever I forgot to eat or pulled three night shifts in a row.
I rubbed my eyes and sat up slowly, the ache from yesterday still lingering in my bones. "Zaria?"
"You weren't answering your phone," she said. "I came over. Found your spare key where you always hide it. You looked like hell so I let you sleep."
I looked around Leo was still asleep on the other mattress. Blanket kicked half off, breathing softly.
I got up. "Let me change. I'll be down in five."
She raised a brow but didn't argue.
By the time I came downstairs, Zaria had already poured us both tea. I saw her standing in the tiny kitchen, arms tight around herself.
I didn't even say anything. I just walked forward and hugged her.
She hugged me back harder.
"I heard," she whispered. "About Mr. Black. About the job. I was at the hospital yesterday, tried to find you, but you were gone. Everything was already cold."
I nodded against her shoulder. "Yeah. I know. It's fine."
She pulled back and gave me a look. "Don't say it's fine if it's not."
I gave a small, tired smile. "Okay, then. It's not fine. But…"
I sat down and picked up the tea, still warm.
"I got a new job," I said slowly. "Well… not a job exactly. A contract."
Zaria blinked. "What kind of contract?"
I stared into the cup for a moment. Then said flatly, "The kind that's either going to save me or ruin me. Possibly both."
Her eyes widened. "Amara...."
The doorbell rang.
We both froze.
"Must be him," I muttered.
"The contract guy?"
I stood. "Yep."
She followed me to the door, whispering like we were about to open it to a hitman. "Are you sure about this?"
"Nope," I said with a shrug. "But Leo doesn't have time for me to wait around until I am."
And with that, I opened the door.
The man at the door stood straight, dressed in a tailored black suit and matching coat, not a single wrinkle in sight. He looked like someone who ironed his soul every morning.
"Miss Dean?" he asked.
I nodded cautiously.
He gave a short bow. "I'm Milo. Personal assistant to Mr. Damien Black. I'm here to escort you."
Of course he had a personal assistant who looked like he could double as a bodyguard-slash-butler from a Victorian movie.
Behind me, Zaria crossed her arms like she was ready to interrogate him.
I turned slightly. "Zee, can you stay with Leo? Just for today?"
She blinked, caught off guard, then nodded quickly. "Of course."
I stepped back inside, tiptoed into the bedroom, and leaned down beside Leo. His eyes were still closed, but his little fingers curled instinctively when I touched his hand.
"Hey," I whispered. "I'm going to do something today. For you."
My voice trembled.
I kissed his forehead. "You better grow up and become something amazing, okay? Because I'm cashing in my sanity for this."
He didn't respond, but I imagined he heard me. Somehow.
When I returned to the front door, Zaria stood waiting. She pulled me into a tight hug.
"Be safe, okay?" she whispered fiercely. "And don't let some rich pretty boy with issues mess with your head."
I let out a shaky breath against her shoulder. "Too late."
She pulled back, looked me in the eyes, and said, "Seriously. One tear, and I'm setting his car on fire."
I smiled despite myself. "Noted."
I turned to Milo, who held the car door open like this was a royal handoff.
Time to go sign my life away.
-------
The car pulled into a quiet, upscale street lined with manicured hedges and security gates that probably cost more than my entire nursing degree.
Milo stepped out first, coming around to open the door for me like I was some heiress instead of a girl who nearly collapsed in an alley yesterday.
I stepped out slowly, clutching my coat tighter around me. The air up here smelled expensive.
The penthouse towered above everything. Modern glass. Sharp edges. Polished floors that reflected the sky. Even the front door looked judgmental.
Milo guided me through the elevator without a word. When the doors slid open at the top floor, it was like stepping into another world.
And there he was.
Damien Black.
Standing near the floor-to-ceiling windows, hands in his pockets, backlit by the morning sun like some brooding billionaire movie scene brought to life.
He turned slightly when he heard us. Just a glance.
No smile. No hello. Just a slow once-over like he was assessing a sculpture at an auction.
I tried not to fidget.
He didn't say a word. Just strolled to a leather chair and sank into it, crossing one leg over the other like a king waiting for a show to start.
Then he gestured lazily to Milo. "Tell her."
Milo cleared his throat and stepped forward, producing a sleek, black leather folder.
"The agreement is simple," Milo said. "100 days. Miss Dean will act as Mr. Black's partner. In public. In private. As needed."
I raised a brow. "Define as needed."
Milo didn't blink. "No physical expectations. No intimate demands unless initiated and mutually agreed upon."
Damien smirked faintly at that part. I glared harder.
Milo continued, "You will attend events. Behave as a close companion would. Learn his preferences. Offer emotional… guidance."
I turned to Damien. "So basically I'm being hired to teach you how to feel?"
He tilted his head. "And to pretend I'm capable of feeling. There's a difference."
Milo resumed, "In return, your brother's treatment will be fully covered for the duration of the contract. Funds are already in a holding account."
I blinked.
Already?
"And when the contract ends?" I asked.
"You leave," Damien said for the first time. "Debt-free. No contact. No complications."
I looked at the folder Milo was now holding open, contract neatly typed and waiting for my signature at the bottom.
100 days.
Just a season.
And the life of my little brother.
I chewed the inside of my cheek and said softly, "Can I… think for a minute?"
Damien just leaned back in the chair, watching me with cool amusement. "Take all the time you want. The clock doesn't start until you sign."
I stared at the signature line.
Just one pen stroke.
One second of courage.
One choice I could never undo.
My fingers hovered over the page, and for a split second, I hesitated. Not because I was scared of Damien or the terms or even pretending to love a man like him for 100 days.
I hesitated… because I remembered Mama's voice.
"Take care of Leo, Amara. Promise me. Nothing must ever happen to him."
My throat tightened.
I blinked once. Then twice. And then I picked up the pen.
The tip scratched against paper. One clean, final line of ink.
Amara Dean.
Milo stepped forward immediately, collected the folder without a word, and pulled out his phone.
"Activate the in-home pediatric team," he said into the call. "Leo Dean. Coordinates already sent. Immediate response."
I blinked. "Wait… now? Like right now?"
Milo nodded. "They'll arrive in minutes."
And somehow, that was the moment it hit me. It was real. All of it. I wasn't just dreaming this in some nurse's lounge or stress-napping in an elevator.
My brother… Leo…
He was going to be okay.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
Zaria.
I picked up fast.
Her voice rushed in, breathless. "Amara! There are people here! Like… actual doctors. And equipment. They said they're here for Leo...."
Tears sprung to my eyes. "Yes. They're legit. Just… let them in, Zaria. Please."
She paused. "You did it, didn't you?"
"I did."
She was quiet for a second. Then, softly, "Be careful, okay? I don't trust that man."
I smiled through the lump in my throat. "I know."
"Call me if you even feel weird."
"I will."
She ended the call. And I just stood there.
Not crying.
Not shaking.
Just… relieved.
For the first time in a long time, Leo was going to be fine. And I would carry whatever weight I had to carry to make sure it stayed that way.
Even if that weight had sharp eyes and colder hands and went by the name Damien Black.