I didn't expect my life to fall apart on a Tuesday.
The hospital hallway smelled like antiseptic and bad news. My mother lay unconscious behind a glass door, machines doing the breathing she couldn't. The doctor's words still echoed in my head.
"We need payment before surgery."
I had nothing. No savings. No rich relatives. Just a stack of unpaid bills and a phone with 3% battery.
That's when my phone vibrated.
Unknown Number:
I hear you need money.
My heart stopped.
I stepped outside, fingers shaking as I typed.
Me: Who is this?
Three dots appeared. Then vanished. Then appeared again.
Unknown Number:
Someone who can solve your problem. In exchange for a favor.
I laughed bitterly. Of course. Life had turned into some bad novela.
Me: I don't have anything to give.
A black car pulled up in front of the hospital.
The door opened.
And that's when I saw him.
Tall. Sharp suit. Eyes so cold they looked like they'd never learned how to feel. He walked toward me like he already owned the ground I stood on.
"You do," he said calmly. "Your signature."
He handed me a folder.
CONTRACT MARRIAGE.
Duration: One Year.
Compensation: Enough to save your mother's life.
I looked up at him, my chest tight.
"You don't even know me."
A small, dangerous smile appeared on his lips.
"I know enough," he said. "And you're running out of time."
Behind us, an alarm rang inside the hospital.
I swallowed.
And signed.