Ciela
The morning air was crisp as I blinked awake, groggily stretching my arms above my head. I barely got enough sleep even though I retired to bed early last. My gaze shifted to the window and I noticed that the sun was oddly brighter today.
I yawned and rubbed the sleep from my eyes before glancing at the clock. 7:35 AM. My heart skipped. No wonder the sun was out. I was late.
I was supposed to wake Damien up in time for school.
Jumping up, I rushed to Damien's room and found him still curled under his blanket, his small form rising and falling with each breath
"Damien. Up. Now." I ordered.
He stirred, eyes cracking open slightly before shutting again.
"Damien, if you don't get up in the next five minutes, I swear I'll start pouring water over your head."
That did the trick. Seconds later, he grudgingly got up from his bed.
I sighed in relief before heading to the kitchen. Normally, I'd have time to make breakfast, but it was too late for that now. I grabbed my purse and pulled out some cash.
When he finally emerged, still groggy, I handed him some money. "You'll have to buy something at school today. No time to cook."
Damien frowned but took the cash without a word.
After making sure he was ready, I grabbed my keys and ushered them out the door.
The streets were already alive with the buzz of morning traffic. As we walked, I held Damien's small hand in mine, guiding him through the sidewalk.
The school gates came into view, and Damien squeezed my hand. "You'll pick me up later, right?"
"Of course." I kissed the top of his head. "Now go."
Damien gave me a small nod before walking inside. I watched him disappear through the doors before exhaling and turning back toward home. I had to prepare for work too.
When I arrived back at the apartment, the air inside was eerily still.
I stepped into the dining room and stopped short.
Dad was there, asleep at the table, his head resting on his folded arms. The sharp scent of alcohol lingered in the air. My stomach twisted.
"Dad?" I called softly, stepping closer.
He didn't stir.
"Dad," I tried again, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He groaned, lifting his head slightly. His eyes were bloodshot, his shirt wrinkled. I'd never seen him like this.
"Dad… have you been drinking?"
He blinked at me, as if trying to process the question. Then he rubbed his face. "I'm fine, Ciela."
He definitely wasn't.
I crossed my arms, my gaze unwavering. "Talk to me. What happened?"
Dad exhaled heavily, but he didn't speak.
A beat of silence passed before I tried a different approach. "How is everything going? Have you figured something out yet?"
His jaw tensed.
"I met with the loan officer and then the CEO yesterday."
"How did it go?" I inquired.
"…Didn't go as well as I hoped."
"What happened?"
He hesitated. "I wanted to pay in instalments but he refused."
I frowned. "And?"
Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"What then happened? Were you able to negotiate an alternative?" I pressed.
He rubbed his temples. "I tried, but he didn't budge. He… he offered another way to clear my debts, but the price he wanted me to pay was too huge. So I had to leave."
A cold feeling settled in my gut.
I stepped closer. "What did he want, Dad?"
His lips parted slightly, but no words came out at first. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "He wanted you."
I blinked. Me?
"What do you mean?"
Dad looked away, his grip tightening around his empty glass. "He wanted you. As his bride. He didn't disclose why he wanted you, but he said that if I agreed, he'd clear all my debts."
I felt the ground shift beneath me.
Marriage? To a complete stranger? There was no way I was getting married to some rich bastard.
My voice came out hollow. "And… what did you say?"
Dad's eyes snapped to mine. "There's no way I'd agree to that. I told him I'd get him his money. I can't sell my daughter to him."
I heaved a sigh of relief.
"We'll find a way," I said, trying to reassure both myself and him. "We don't have to agree to his terms."
Dad forced a weak smile. "We'll talk later, okay? I believe I should get to work."
He stood up, adjusting his shirt. As he walked past me, something fell from his top onto the table.
A business card.
I glanced down.
Laurent Wolfe.
When I looked back up, Dad was already gone.
I dismissed the thought of the card being important and headed on to work. Just like I suspected, my boss was angry at me for arriving late but after a while, he finally got off my back.
Work passed like a blur. Luckily for me, there weren't too many clients today so I had a lot of time to drown in my thoughts. I tried to think of solutions to our current financial crisis but none came to mind so I decided to take a break from my thoughts and dive back into work.
This was the moment that my phone rang.
I frowned at the unknown number before answering. "Hello?"
A woman's voice, urgent. "Is this Ciela Hart? Sister to Damien Hart."
"Yes, who's this?"
"This is Dr. Caldwell from St. Vincent's Hospital. Your brother, Damien Hart, was in an accident. You need to come immediately."
My heart stopped.
I barely registered the phone slipping from my grip before I grabbed my things and bolted out the door.
When I arrived at the hospital, Dad was already there, pacing the waiting room.
"Dad!" I ran up to him, panic clawing at my throat. "Where's Damien? What happened?"
His face was pale. "A car hit him. He—he was playing football with friends in an open space and…and…the car just..." His voice cracked.
A doctor approached us. "Are you family?"
"Yes," I said breathlessly. "I'm his sister."
The doctor's expression was grim. "Your brother has suffered multiple fractures, a severe concussion, and internal bleeding. We've placed him on life support but that can't sustain him forever..."
My breath caught in my throat.
"We need to start treatment immediately," the doctor continued, "but we require a down payment before we proceed."
Dad and I exchanged a look. We both knew the answer.
We didn't have it.
We had nothing.
Dad pulled out his phone, making desperate calls but everyone he called had an excuse about why they couldn't help. My dad paced frantically.
Minutes passed. Then an hour.
Damien was lying in a hospital bed, barely holding on, and we couldn't even afford to save him.
Then, an idea struck me.
I turned to Dad. "Call him."
His brows furrowed. "Who?"
I swallowed. "The CEO you told me about. He has enough. He'll be able to help us."
His expression hardened. "No. I'll take a loan. I'm not selling you off."
"Dad, we don't have a choice. No company will loan you again. Most people in high places know about your debts."
"Ciela. I am not selling you off. I know I can't take loans right now but you can. You have no debts. Take a loan, let's save your brother."
"Dad. I have nothing to use as collateral. My credit score is even terrible. No company is going lend me."
"We're still not selling you to pay our bills."
"Then what are we going to do? Let Damien die?"
Dad clenched his fists. He didn't have an answer.
After a long silence, he exhaled shakily.
"Are you sure? If I call him and he accepts. There's no going back. You'll be his forever and there will be nothing we can do to get you back."
"What choice do we have? We can't let Damien die knowing that we could've done something to save him."
He pulled out his phone and after a brief sigh, he dialed the number.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then—
Click.
"Hello." Laurent's smooth voice echoed from the other end.
Dad cleared his throat. "It's Theron Hart. I… I need your help. My son was in an accident, and we don't have the money for his treatment. Help us with a little money to save him and my daughter will…" He paused to look at me before continuing. "She will marry you."
For a moment, silence.
Then, Laurent's voice, calm and unreadable.
"Splendid. Send her over to my office for the signing of the documents and I'll take care of your son's hospital bills." Laurent said. "I knew you'll come around."