The morning sun slipped through the thin curtains, spilling golden light across our tiny living room.
Sophia was already humming to herself, sitting cross-legged on the faded rug with her textbooks spread around her like puzzle pieces. She always hummed when she studied, a habit that used to annoy me but had somehow become the background music of our mornings.
"You're distracting yourself," I teased, carrying two mugs of coffee toward the table. "You can't possibly be solving math problems while singing at the same time." She shot me a grin, her brown eyes sparkling. "Says the girl who used to read novels during chemistry class."
I laughed and set her mug beside her books. "Touché." Sophia wrapped her hands around the warm cup, sighing with satisfaction. "This is why you're the best sister in the world." "And don't you forget it," I said, ruffling her curls. She swatted my hand away, but the smile never left her face. For a moment, life felt simple. Just me and my little sister, the smell of cocoa, and the sunlight fighting its way into our crumbling house. If anyone walked in right then, they might have thought we had it all together. They wouldn't have seen the cracks on the wall or the stack of unpaid bills hidden in the drawer. They wouldn't have noticed the quiet weight pressing down on me, heavier with each passing day. But I noticed. Every time I looked at Sophia's innocent face, I felt it — the pressure to keep her safe, to shield her from the storms gathering around us.
"Lena?" Sophia's voice pulled me back. "Yes?" "Do you think… one day we'll live in a big house? Like the ones in the magazines? With glass walls and a swimming pool?" Her question caught me off guard. For a second, I saw it — her laughter echoing through wide halls, her curls bouncing as she dove into a pool that sparkled under the sun. My heart ached at the image. "Of course we will," I said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "You'll go to university, become the amazing doctor you dream of, and then you'll buy me that house." She giggled. "Deal." We clinked our mugs together like we were sealing a contract, and I forced myself to believe the lie I had just told. --- Later that day, I visited Papa. He was resting in his room, a book open on his lap though his tired eyes weren't moving across the words. When he saw me, he smiled, the kind of smile that tried to hide his weakness. "You look like your mother when you smile," he whispered. I sat beside him and held his hand. His skin was thinner than it used to be, his once-firm grip now fragile. "Don't start with that sentimental talk again," I said gently. "You'll make me cry." He chuckled weakly, then grew serious. "Elena… about the debts. I—" "Papa," I cut in before he could finish. "I told you not to worry about that. Just focus on getting better." But even as I said it, the fear in his eyes pierced me. He knew. I knew. We were running out of time. And that was draining... --- The next morning, a letter slid under our door. Thick paper, crisp ink. The kind of letter that did not belong in a house like ours. When I picked it up, my hands trembled. The Dawson family. An invitation. Carter Enterprises. I had heard the name all my life — Alexander Carter, the billionaire who built empires out of steel and stone, the man who never smiled, the tycoon whispered about in both admiration and fear. Why would someone like him reach out to someone like me? I folded the letter back into its envelope and hid it beneath the stack of bills. My heart raced, my mind spinning with possibilities I didn't want to name. --- At noon the following day, I found myself standing in front of the tallest building I had ever seen. Carter Enterprises towered over the city like it owned the sky. Its glass walls reflected the sunlight so fiercely I had to squint, and the revolving doors looked like gateways into another world. I adjusted the strap of my worn handbag, took a shaky breath, and stepped inside. Everything gleamed. The marble floors, the golden chandeliers, the people in their sharp suits who moved like they had somewhere more important to be. I felt like a misplaced puzzle piece in the middle of perfection. "Miss Dawson?" a voice said. I turned and saw a young woman in a fitted blazer, her smile polite but distant. "Mr. Carter is expecting you." Expecting me. My heart thudded in my chest as I followed her into a private elevator. The numbers climbed higher and higher until the doors opened into silence and glass. And there he was. Alexander Carter stood with his back to me, gazing out at the city like it was his to command. He didn't turn immediately. His presence filled the room, cold and commanding, as if the air itself obeyed him. When he finally faced me, my breath caught. Tall. Impeccably dressed. Eyes like winter — sharp, blue-gray and unyielding. "Miss Dawson," he said, his voice smooth yet distant, like polished steel. "You're here." I nodded, unable to trust my voice. He studied me for a moment that felt too long, as though he could see straight through me, peeling away my defenses until only the truth remained. "I'll make this simple," he said. "Your family's debts… I can erase them." I swallowed hard. "And what would you want in return?" His lips curved slightly, but it wasn't a smile. "Marriage." The word rang in the air, impossible, undeniable. In that moment, standing before a man carved from ice and power, I realized that my life — my freedom — was about to change forever.
Elena's hands tightened around the strap of her bag as silence stretched between them. His words — debts, erase, marriage — still rang in her ears like a cruel joke