The heavy glass doors of Carter Enterprises slammed shut behind me, I was finally out !
Air. I needed air. I stumbled out onto the busy street, the crisp wind biting at my cheeks. The city carried on as if nothing had happened — taxis honked, strangers hurried by with coffee cups and briefcases, neon signs flashed above polished storefronts. But my world had tilted, broken open by a man with eyes like winter. Marry me. The words clung to me like smoke, seeping into my lungs, poisoning every thought. I wrapped my arms around myself, blinking hard against the sting of tears. It had to be some kind of nightmare. No one —absolutely no one — walked into a billionaire's office and walked out with a marriage proposal. Not one wrapped in a contract and signed with my family's desperation. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. But laughter wouldn't pay Papa's medical bills. Laughter wouldn't stop the eviction notices. Laughter wouldn't save Lily from dropping out of school. And that was the worst part. Alexander Carter knew it. He had peeled me apart until I had nothing left to hide. He had seen my weakness, and he had turned it into his weapon. Three days. I hated him. I hated that he could stand there, so calm, so certain, while my world collapsed. "Miss, are you okay?" I blinked, realizing I'd frozen on the sidewalk, people brushing past me with irritated looks. A stranger had paused, concern on her face. I forced a smile that felt like glass cracking. "Yes, I'm fine mam. Thank you." But I wasn't. --- By the time I reached our tiny apartment, my legs ached and my head throbbed. The peeling paint on the stairwell, the creak of the third step, the faint smell of detergent someone had spilled in the hallway — home. Fragile, imperfect, ours. I pushed open the door quietly. Lily sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by textbooks, her hair tied in a messy bun. She looked up, her face lighting briefly before she caught the exhaustion in mine. "You're late again," she said softly. Not accusing, just tired. "I know," I whispered, setting my bag down. "How's Dad?" Her eyes flickered toward the bedroom. "Sleeping. The medicine helps, but… we'll need to get more soon." I nodded, the weight of the word more crushing down. More medicine. More money. More time we didn't have. Lily studied me for a moment. "You've been crying." I shook my head quickly. "No, just the wind." But my sister wasn't fooled. She never was.
"Elena," she said gently, "what happened today?" How could I tell her? That a man we barely knew held the strings to our lives? That he wanted to tie me to him in a marriage that wasn't real, wasn't love, wasn't anything but a cold transaction?
I opened my mouth — and closed it again. "Nothing. Just work." Lily sighed, but didn't press further. She was only sixteen, but sometimes she carried herself with more maturity than I could manage. "Go rest," she said instead. "I'll warm some soup." Her kindness broke me more than cruelty ever could.
--- That night, I lay awake listening to Papa's uneven breathing through the thin walls. My mind replayed Alexander's words over and over, each repetition cutting deeper. You don't want me. That makes you perfect. Was that what I was now? Perfect because I didn't want him? Perfect because I was too desperate to say no? Tears slipped hot and silent down my cheeks.
Marriage. The word should have meant love, hope, forever. But in his mouth, it sounded like a prison. And yet… I thought of the hospital bills piled on the counter. Of Lily's determined face as she studied by candlelight when the power was cut. Of Papa's frail hand clutching mine,
whispering apologies for debts he could never repay. Could I really say no? Three days.
--- The next evening, I heard a Sharp knock, so confident, three raps against the door that made my stomach plummet. I froze in the kitchen, spoon in hand. Lily glanced up from the table, confused. "Are you expecting someone?" "No." My voice was barely a whisper.
The knock came again. Louder this time. Heart pounding, I wiped my hands on a towel and crossed the room. My fingers trembled as I turned the knob. And there he was. Alexander Carter stood in the dim hallway of our crumbling apartment building as though he owned it. His tailored suit was out of place against the peeling paint and flickering lightbulbs, but he looked entirely unbothered. His gaze swept over me once, taking in the shock on my face, before settling with unnerving calm.
"Miss Dawson," he said smoothly. "I thought I'd save you the trouble of wasting your three days." My voice caught. "What are you doing here?" His mouth curved, not quite a smile. "Collecting an answer." The spoon slipped from my hand, clattering against the floor..