Amelia thought the worst was over once Adrian Kane disappeared from the cafeteria, but she had underestimated the cruelty of whispers.
By the time she reached her afternoon literature class, every step she took felt like walking through fire. Every seat she passed carried a hushed laugh, a smirk, or a pointed whisper behind cupped hands.
"That's her, the cafeteria girl."
"Did you see the way she dropped food on him?"
"I heard the billionaire likes her. Can you imagine?"
The voices weren't loud, but they didn't need to be. Each word lodged into her skin like tiny, invisible needles. Amelia pressed her books tighter against her chest, as though hugging them close could shield her from the shame burning in her cheeks.
Her humiliation wasn't contained to campus anymore. The pictures had already spread online, grainy shots of her kneeling with food scattered like debris at a crime scene, Adrian towering above her like some disappointed god. The captions were cruel and unrelenting.
When Cinderella's midnight strikes at lunch.
From waitress to billionaire's new toy?
Did she fall for him, or just fall on him?
Some were mocking, others oddly romanticized, twisting the moment into something it was not as if she were living in a fairytale gone wrong. The comments section beneath them was a battlefield she refused to look at.
She slipped into the last row of class and sank low into her chair, heart pounding, wishing the floor would open and swallow her whole. She avoided the professor's eyes, the curious stares, the cell phones that she knew were angled just enough to catch her in the corner of their lenses.
By the time the lecture ended, Amelia's body felt like a wound. She grabbed her things and bolted out the door, desperate to escape the suffocating stares.
She told herself she'd head back to her dorm, but her feet didn't listen. They carried her, almost instinctively, to the one place she avoided unless necessary the hospital.
The fluorescent lights stung her eyes, and the sharp antiseptic smell clung to her nose like guilt. She hated this place, hated how each visit reminded her how fragile everything was. How quickly life could slip away.
Her mother sat propped up against stiff white pillows, her once-strong frame now so much smaller against the sterile sheets. Yet, when she spotted Amelia, she still found the strength to smile. A smile that warmed Amelia's chest even as it broke her heart.
"Amelia," her mother whispered, her voice thin but warm. "You look tired."
"I'm fine, Mom." Amelia forced a smile as she set her bag down, pretending she didn't feel like crumbling. "How are you feeling today?"
Her mother hesitated before answering, her eyes darting to the IV taped against her arm. "Better than yesterday. The doctor says… if I respond well to the new medication, I could be home in a month."
Relief flickered in Amelia's chest fragile, trembling, until a sharp knock shattered it.
A nurse stepped in, a clipboard clutched to her chest.
"Miss Hart," the nurse said, her eyes flicking to Amelia. Her tone was polite, but there was an edge of finality beneath it. "We need to discuss your mother's billing. The hospital has been patient, but the outstanding balance has grown too high. If payment isn't made within the next two weeks…" She paused delicately, but the pause only made the words heavier. "We may have to suspend treatment."
The words hit Amelia like ice water.
"No," Amelia said quickly, springing to her feet. Her voice cracked with panic. "You can't. She needs this treatment."
The nurse's expression softened, but her tone remained firm. "I'm sorry. Hospital policy." She placed the clipboard on the counter and left, the click of the door sounding like a final verdict.
Silence thickened the room.
Amelia's mother looked away, shame etched into every line of her tired face. "Sweetheart… maybe it's time to stop fighting this. I don't want to see you breaking yourself for me."
"Don't you dare," Amelia snapped, her voice trembling. She grabbed her mother's hand and clutched it like a lifeline. "You're all I have. I'm not losing you because of money."
But inside, her heart knew the truth: she had no way to pay. Her part-time tutoring job barely covered food and books, let alone tuition. She had already maxed out her student loans. Numbers didn't lie, and hers spelled out despair.
When she left the hospital, the city lights blurred through the tears she refused to let fall. She walked with no real destination, the weight of every bill, every whispered rumor, pressing on her shoulders like bricks. She needed money. Desperately. And fast.
That was when the black car pulled up beside her like a shadow out of nowhere.
The tinted window lowered with a soft hum, and her stomach dropped.
Adrian Kane.
He sat in the back seat, his crisp suit jacket unbuttoned, his posture effortless yet commanding. The glow of the streetlights highlighted the sharp planes of his face. His eyes locked onto hers with that same intensity as before cold, unreadable, but piercing enough to freeze her in place.
"Get in," he said simply.
She blinked. "What? No....."
"You can either stand out here crying in the middle of the street where anyone can see you," he interrupted smoothly, his voice like steel wrapped in velvet, "or you can get in the car and listen to what I have to say."
Her pride screamed at her to walk away. To tell him she wanted nothing from him. But her heart the part breaking under the weight of hospital bills hesitated.
The car door opened from the inside. The driver glanced at her expectantly.
Amelia swallowed hard, then climbed in.
The leather seat was cold against her legs, the faint scent of expensive cologne wrapping around her like invisible chains. She sat rigid, clutching her bag to her chest as though it could shield her from the man beside her.
Adrian studied her for a long, unnerving moment. His gaze was sharp, dissecting, making her skin prickle. Finally, he spoke.
"You're drowning."
She stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"Your mother is in the hospital. The bills are piling up. You've already maxed out your loans." His voice was calm, matter-of-fact. As if he were reciting a report instead of peeling open her private life.
Her mouth went dry. "How do you know that?"
"I make it my business to know things." He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, his expression unreadable. "And I don't waste time with small talk. So I'll get to the point."
Her fear twisted into anger, enough for her voice to sharpen. "What do you want from me?"
His lips curved into something between a smirk and a challenge. "A deal."
Her chest tightened.
"I have a situation," Adrian continued, his tone low and deliberate. "One that requires… appearances. You, Amelia Hart, can solve it for me. In return, I'll take care of your problems."
Her heart pounded in her ears. She didn't like the way he said it. Didn't like how her struggles were nothing but bargaining chips to him.
"What kind of… deal?" she whispered, though part of her already feared the answer.
Adrian's eyes never left hers. His voice dropped lower, dark and final.
"You'll find out soon enough."
And in that moment, Amelia knew her life was about to change forever.