Talia Morgan stared at the hospital bill in her hands, her vision blurring.
$18,400.
That was the amount written boldly at the bottom of the page. The amount standing between her mother and the surgery she desperately needed.
Her fingers trembled as she folded the paper slowly.
She had tried everything. Scholarships. Loans. Donations. Even selling her laptop and most of her belongings. Nothing was enough.
"You have one week, Miss Morgan," the hospital administrator had told her earlier. "After that, we cannot keep your mother admitted."
One week.
How was she supposed to find that kind of money in one week?
Her phone buzzed suddenly in her palm.
Unknown Number.
She hesitated, then answered.
"Hello?"
"There's a job offer for you," a calm male voice said on the other end.
A job?
Her heart jumped.
"I didn't apply for any—"
"You were recommended."
"Recommended for what exactly?"
There was a short pause.
"For marriage."
Silence filled the line.
"…I'm sorry?"
"A contract marriage."
Talia actually laughed, thinking it was a sick joke.
"This isn't funny."
"It's not meant to be."
The voice remained steady. Cold. Controlled.
"My employer is willing to pay you fifty thousand dollars for a one-year marriage contract."
Her breath caught.
Did he just say fifty thousand dollars?
"That money would be transferred immediately after signing," the voice continued. "No physical relationship required. No emotional involvement. After one year, the marriage will be dissolved legally."
Talia's heart began to pound violently in her chest.
Fifty thousand dollars.
That was more than enough for her mother's surgery.
More than enough to change everything.
"This… this sounds illegal."
"It's perfectly legal. A civil marriage contract with private terms."
She hesitated.
"Who is your employer?"
There was another pause, longer this time.
"Adrian Blackwood."
Her blood froze.
Everyone knew that name.
The billionaire tech CEO. The youngest billionaire in the country. The man whose face was always on business magazines. Powerful. Untouchable. Dangerous.
"You want me to marry him?" she whispered.
"Yes."
Her throat went dry.
"Why me?"
"Because you fit the requirements. Educated. Clean record. No public scandals. And desperate enough to accept."
That last part stung.
But he wasn't wrong.
She thought of her mother lying weakly on the hospital bed. The beeping machines. The shallow breathing. The fear in her eyes.
One year.
Just one year.
"I want to meet him first," she said quietly.
"You will. Tonight. 7pm. Blackwood Tower."
The call ended before she could say anything else.
Talia stared at her phone for a long time.
Then slowly, she picked up the hospital bill again.
$18,400.
She made her decision.