Adrian sat behind his mahogany desk, the morning light spilling through the tall glass windows of his office. The city was already alive below, cars crawling like ants, people rushing to their destinations, but his mind was elsewhere. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the file Nathan had just handed him.
"Boss, I got the information you asked for," Nathan said, his tone calm as always.
Adrian's eyes dropped to the report. At first, he skimmed with disinterest—he expected the usual details, nothing new. But then, line by line, the picture of Lila Hart's life unfolded before him, and for the first time in years, he found himself pausing mid-breath.
Her father, Sylvester Hart: incapacitated by a stroke.
Her mother, Bianca Hart: a cleaner at a local school, barely earning enough to cover daily expenses.
Her younger brother, Jake: seventeen, still in high school, sometimes teased for his family's financial struggles.
And Lila herself: working two jobs to keep her family afloat. A morning office assistant by day, and a waitress at the club by night.
Adrian leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening. He had suspected she wasn't from wealth—the simplicity of her uniform and the exhaustion in her eyes had given that away—but he hadn't expected this level of hardship. She carried an entire household on her shoulders, and at her age, that weight was staggering.
For a long moment, he said nothing, staring out of the floor-to-ceiling window. Nathan stood silently, giving his boss space. Adrian's mind raced. He wasn't sentimental by nature; emotions rarely dictated his decisions. But this—this explained everything. It explained the tired slump of her shoulders, the stubbornness in her voice, the way she worked as if her life depended on it. Because it did.
"So that's the reason," Adrian murmured at last, his voice low. "That's why she's breaking her back with two jobs."
"Yes, boss," Nathan replied. "She's trying to keep her family afloat."
Adrian pushed away from his desk and walked toward the window, hands sliding into his pockets. From up here, the city seemed so small, so insignificant. But somewhere down there, Lila was probably sitting at a desk, typing away, her mind already split between her father's medication, her brother's schooling, and her mother's endless work.
He thought of his own parents—wealthy, powerful, constantly pressing him to marry. To them, marriage was another business arrangement, another tool to secure alliances and silence whispers. And now here he was, considering a girl who was everything they would never approve of: poor, unknown, with no family influence to boast of. Yet she was also everything they couldn't ignore: breathtakingly beautiful, undeniably hardworking, and—most importantly—a woman.
"Find out where she works in the morning," Adrian said quietly. "I'll see her myself soon. Nobody needs to know."
"Understood, boss," Nathan said, giving a small nod before leaving the office.
The silence stretched again until Adrian's phone buzzed. He picked it up without looking at the caller ID.
"Mom," he said, already knowing her voice.
"Adrian, how are you, son?" his mother's warm but insistent tone came through.
"I know why you're calling, Mom," he said dryly, loosening his tie.
"You can't keep avoiding this, Adrian. Should I start looking for a wife for you? There are daughters of my friends—"
"No, Mom," Adrian interrupted firmly. "I have someone in mind."
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a delighted gasp. "Oh, really, son? Finally! Who is she? When will I meet her?"
"Soon," Adrian replied, his voice calm, calculated. "You'll meet her soon. Don't tell Dad yet. I'll handle it."
"Oh, Adrian, this is wonderful news," his mother said happily. "I can't wait. Your father will be so pleased."
When the call ended, Adrian lowered the phone and stood there in silence. His reflection in the glass window stared back at him, expression unreadable. He hadn't told her everything—not about Lila's situation, not about his lack of love. But for now, it was enough. His parents would stop pressing, and he had time to decide how to move forward.
He poured himself a glass of water, sipped it slowly, and whispered to himself, "Hmm. Soon."
---
Across town, Lila was at her office job, her fingers moving quickly across the keyboard as she filed documents. Her eyes burned with fatigue from the late night at the club, but she pressed on. She had to—she always had to.
Her phone buzzed suddenly. Seeing her mother's number, she answered quickly.
"Mom? Is everything okay?"
But the sound of her mother's trembling voice made her blood run cold. "Lila, come home quickly… It's your father."
The world tilted for a moment. Lila dropped everything and rushed out, barely remembering to tell her supervisor she needed to leave. She sprinted through the streets, her chest tightening with each step until she finally reached home.
There, in their small bedroom, she found her mother in tears, kneeling beside the bed. Her father lay pale and trembling, his breathing shallow.
"Mom, what happened?" Lila asked, panicked.
"His condition… it's worse. We need to take him to the hospital," Bianca sobbed.
"Then let's go," Lila said, her voice firm despite her fear. "We'll find a way to pay. I got a second job, remember? We'll manage. We just need to get him help now."
Together, they hurried him to the hospital. Nurses rushed to stabilize him, and soon a doctor emerged, his expression grim.
"The stroke has caused significant damage," he explained gently. "We need to start surgery and treatment immediately. But before we begin, we require at least half of the payment upfront."
"How much?" Lila asked, her throat dry.
"Five thousand dollars."
The words slammed into her chest. Her mother broke into sobs, clutching her head. Lila stood frozen, her mind spinning. Five thousand? She didn't even have five hundred to spare.
"I'll… I'll figure something out," she whispered.
The doctor excused himself, leaving them sitting in silence. Lila gripped her mother's hands. "Mom, don't cry. I'll go beg my bosses. One of them has to help. I'll make them understand."
She left quickly, determination in her steps. But as the hours crawled by, her hope dwindled. She approached her morning boss, pleading softly, explaining her father's condition—but he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Lila. It's not possible."
Her evening boss at the club wasn't any better. "I run a business, not a charity. I can't lend that kind of money."
By the time she left, her throat was raw from pleading, her eyes burning from tears she refused to shed. Three hours gone, and she was no closer to saving her father.
Defeated, she returned to the office, trying to focus on work, but her thoughts were a storm. How would she ever come up with that money? Her father's life depended on it.
As she sat at her desk, a colleague approached. "Lila, someone's looking for you outside."
Her brows furrowed. "For me? Who?"
The colleague shrugged. "I don't know. He said it's important."
Curious and wary, Lila rose and walked to the entrance. Her heart stopped when she saw the sleek black car parked by the curb—and Nathan, Adrian's driver, standing beside it.
"Hello, ma," Nathan greeted politely. "Can you get into the car? My boss would like to have a word with you."
Lila froze. For a moment, every instinct told her to walk away, to refuse. She wasn't in the mood for games, not tonight, not with her father lying in a hospital bed. But Nathan's calm, respectful tone disarmed her.
She looked at the car, then back at Nathan. If it was another man, I would have walked away, she thought bitterly. But this was Adrian. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to dismiss him so easily.
"It won't take much of your time," Nathan assured.
After a long pause, Lila exhaled shakily and gave a small nod. "Fine."
Nathan opened the door for her, and as she slid into the car, her pulse quickened. She wasn't sure if she was walking into salvation—or something far more dangerous.
---