Chapter 2
Hannah's pov
I'd been awake for nineteen hours, and my feet felt like they were going to fall off.
"Hannah, Room 412 needs another round of pain meds," Nurse Jackie called from the station, not looking up from her charts. "And 407's family is asking for you again. Something about the DNR paperwork."
"Got it." I grabbed the medication cart, pushing it down the fluorescent-lit hallway of Mount Sinai's hospice wing. Morning shift had bled into afternoon shift, and now I was three hours into covering for Sandra who'd called in sick. Again.
Not that I could judge. I needed the overtime. Desperately.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out at the nurses' station, keeping one eye on the hallway.
Lily: How much longer? I'm bored and the daytime nurses aren't as cool as you. Also, I miss you.
I smiled despite my exhaustion, typing back: Two more hours. Promise. Want me to bring dinner from that Chinese place you like?
Lily: YES. Extra egg rolls. I love you, sis.
The word "sis" made my chest tighten like it always did, but I pushed the feeling down. I'd gotten good at that over sixteen years.
Me: Love you too. Be good.
"Hannah Brooks, you look like death warmed over." Jackie appeared beside me, her dark eyes concerned. She was fifty-something, had been a nurse longer than I'd been alive, and had taken me under her wing when I'd started at Mount Sinai five years ago. "When's the last time you slept?"
"I sleep."
"When?"
I couldn't actually remember. "I'm fine."
"You're running yourself into the ground." Jackie's voice dropped lower. "Honey, I know about Lily's surgery. I know you're trying to come up with the money. But killing yourself won't help her."
"I'm not," My voice cracked, and I stopped, swallowing hard. "I'm just doing what I have to do."
Jackie squeezed my shoulder. "There's got to be another way. Have you tried talking to the hospital foundation? Sometimes they have emergency funds for…"
"I've tried everything." I blinked back tears, refusing to cry in the middle of the nurses' station. "Every loan, every grant, every payment plan. We're out of options."
"Then we'll find new options." Jackie's voice was firm. "You hear me? We'll figure something out."
I nodded, not believing her but grateful anyway.
My phone buzzed again. Unknown number.
Miss Brooks, this is James Whitmore from Whitmore & Associates. I'm calling on behalf of a client who would like to discuss a private matter with you. Would you be available for a meeting this morning?
I frowned at the screen. "Who's James Whitmore?"
Jackie looked over my shoulder. "Whitmore & Associates? That's a fancy law firm. Like, handle-billionaires-and-corporations fancy. Why are they texting you?"
"I have no idea."
The phone rang. Same unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Miss Brooks?" A man's cultured voice, professional and careful. "This is James Whitmore. I apologize for texting first, but I wanted to ensure I had the correct number. I'm calling on behalf of a client who would like to meet with you regarding a private matter."
"I think you have the wrong person. I don't know anyone who…"
"My client is Sebastian Wolfe. I believe you were his father's hospice nurse?"
The name hit me like cold water. Sebastian Wolfe. I remembered him,tall, intimidating, with ice-blue eyes that never showed a flicker of emotion even when his father was dying. He'd visited exactly four times, stayed precisely fifteen minutes each visit, and never once looked like he cared whether Richard Wolfe lived or died.
I'd felt sorry for him, which he'd clearly hated.
"What does Mr. Wolfe want with me?"
"He'd prefer to discuss that in person. Would 10 AM work? He can meet you anywhere that's convenient."
Every instinct screamed this was weird. Rich men didn't contact their father's nurses unless something was wrong. Unless they wanted to sue or complain or…
But something in Whitmore's tone,a careful formality that suggested this was important,made me pause.
"The coffee shop across from the hospital," I heard myself say. "Ten o'clock."
"Excellent. Mr. Wolfe will see you then."
The line went dead.
Jackie was staring at me. "Did you just agree to meet Sebastian Wolfe? The billionaire Sebastian Wolfe?"
"I don't know. Maybe?" I looked at my phone like it might explain what just happened. "Do you know him?"
"Know him? Hannah, he's only one of the richest men in New York. Venture capital, corporate acquisitions, that whole world. He's also supposedly cold as ice and mean as a snake." Jackie's eyes narrowed. "Why would he want to meet you?"
"I have no idea."
"Well, be careful. Men like that don't do anything without a reason."
I finished my shift at 9:30, my mind spinning with questions I couldn't answer. What could Sebastian Wolfe possibly want? Had I done something wrong with his father's care? Was he going to accuse me of something?
I barely had time to run to the bathroom, splash water on my face, and smooth my honey-blonde hair back into its ponytail before hurrying across the street to the coffee shop.
He was already there.
Sebastian Wolfe sat in the back corner booth, looking like he'd stepped out of a magazine spread about powerful men who intimidated everyone. Navy suit, perfectly styled dark hair, strong jaw, and those ice-blue eyes that tracked my movement the second I walked in.
I felt suddenly, painfully aware of my wrinkled scrubs, my exhausted face, my complete lack of anything resembling polish or sophistication.
He stood as I approached,at least six inches taller than me, maybe more,and I caught myself taking a half-step back.
"Miss Brooks. Thank you for coming." His voice was deep, controlled, completely devoid of warmth. "Please, sit."
It wasn't a request. It was a command wrapped in polite words.
I slid into the booth across from him, my heart hammering. "Mr. Wolfe, I'm not sure why…"
"I have a business proposition for you." He pulled out a leather folder, placing it on the table between us with precise movements. "One that I believe will solve a significant problem you're currently facing."
My stomach twisted. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Your sister, Lily. Sixteen years old, severe nerve damage from a car accident six months ago. She needs experimental surgery that costs $340,000, of which you still owe $238,000." His tone was matter-of-fact, like he was reading stock prices. "The hospital requires payment before they'll schedule the procedure, and your window for the surgery is closing."
The room tilted. "How do you…"
"You've been denied by every financing company you've applied to. Your parents have already mortgaged their home. You're working double shifts, running yourself into exhaustion, and you're still nowhere close to the amount you need." Those ice-blue eyes locked onto mine. "You're out of options."
Heat flooded my face,embarrassment mixed with anger mixed with something that felt like violation. "You have no right to…"
"I have every right. You were my father's nurse. That makes you part of his estate's billing records, which makes you my business." He opened the folder, revealing dense legal text. "I'm prepared to pay all of Lily's medical expenses, plus an additional five hundred thousand dollars, in exchange for a simple service."
My brain couldn't process what he was saying. Five hundred thousand dollars. Plus Lily's surgery. That was nearly a million dollars.
"What kind of service?" My voice came out strangled.
"Marriage."
I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. When none came, I felt my mouth open and close like a fish. "You're insane."
"I'm practical. My father's will requires me to be married within thirty days.
, or I lose my inheritance. You need money desperately enough that you're working yourself to death." He pushed the folder toward me. "This is a mutually beneficial transaction."
"This is…."I pushed the folder back, my hands shaking. "This is insane. You can't just buy a wife."
"I'm not buying a wife. I'm proposing a temporary contractual arrangement with clearly defined terms and compensation." He pushed the folder back to me. "Read it before you refuse."
"I don't need to read it. The answer is no." I started to stand, but his next words froze me in place.
"Your sister needs surgery within six weeks, or the nerve damage becomes permanent. Can you get $238,000 in six weeks through any other means?"
The question hit me like a physical blow. I sank back into the seat, my legs suddenly unable to hold me.
"That's not fair," I whispered.
"Life isn't fair, Miss Brooks. But sometimes we get opportunities to make the best of unfair situations." He leaned forward slightly, and I noticed his eyes weren't just blue,they were the coldest blue I'd ever seen, like winter ice. "I need a wife for legal purposes. After the marriage, you're free to leave whenever you want. One day, one week, one month,the choice is entirely yours. The contract stipulates that you can terminate the arrangement at any time with no penalties. You'll receive full payment regardless of duration."
"Why me?" The question came out broken, desperate.
"Because you're desperate, practical, and have no social connections that would complicate a quiet divorce. Because you need exactly what I'm offering, and I need exactly what you can provide." His expression didn't change, didn't soften. "Because neither of us needs to pretend this is anything more than a business transaction."
I stared at the folder, my whole body trembling. This couldn't be real. Things like this didn't happen in real life.
"I need to think about it," I managed.
"You have until tomorrow at 10 AM. After that, I'll find someone else." He pulled out a business card, sliding it across the table. "My personal number is on the back. Call me with your answer."
I took the card with shaking hands, then grabbed the folder and stood on legs that barely worked. "This is crazy."
"Yes," he agreed,"But sometimes crazy is the only logical option left."
I practically ran out of the coffee shop, clutching the folder to my chest like a shield. Outside, I leaned against the building, gasping for air, my mind racing.
Marriage. He wanted me to marry him. A complete stranger. A billionaire who looked at me like I was a spreadsheet.
My phone buzzed. Lily: You still coming tonight? I really need to talk to you about something.
My hands were shaking so hard I could barely type back: Of course. Be there soon. Love you.
Lily: Love you too, sis.
I looked down at the leather folder, at Sebastian Wolfe's business card He was offering me everything I needed to save Lily. Everything I'd been desperately trying to find for six months.
All I had to do was marry him.
I pulled out my phone and called the only person who would understand how insane this was.
"Jess? I need you to come over. Now."
"Hannah? What's wrong? You sound,"
"I'm holding a contract to marry a stranger," I said, my voice breaking. "And the worst part is that I'm actually considering it."