The rain hammered on the glass windows of Blackwood Tower like bullets, each drops a reminder that Ella Morgan was running out of time.
She stood in the shadows of the loading dock, her soaked hair clings to her face, her heart was pounding like that of one who was chased by a pack of dogs, it was pounding so hard one would think it would burst out her chest.
Security rotated shifts at 12pm. Now she had exactly 5 minutes till the next one comes back to that position.
This is insane. This is completely insane, she thought to herself.
But insanity was all she had left.
"Mom, I will fix this,'' she whispered to herself into the darkness, clutching her phone where the last message still read: Final notice. Payment due by Midnight or we proceed with collection method. Rakim.
Rakim. The loan shark who smiles with his whole teeth and whose "collection method'' involved breaking of bones and burning down of houses.
Ella's hands trembled as she pulled out the stolen keycard -- borrowed, she told herself, borrowed from Jenny who owed her a favour.
The card beeped green at the service entrance, and she slipped inside before anyone would notice her.
The elevator hummed as it climbed seventy-three floors. Seventy-three floors to the penthouse of Dominic Blackwood, the man who'd built an empire before he clocked thirty.
The man whose family has once been friends with hers, a longtime ago when her father was still alive and the Morgan name meant something.
He'll remember me, she thought to herself, he has to remember me.
The doors of the elevator opened as it came to a halt opening to beautiful luxury--marbled, abstract art worth more than her entire life, and floor-to-ceiling window showcasing the glittering city below. At this hour, the executive floor should be empty.
Should be.
"You have just Ten seconds to explain why you are here or I call the security.''
Ella's breath seized at that moment. She spun around around to find him standing in the doorway of his office. from the soft glow from his desk lamp, Ella could clearly see Dominic Blackwood. Even more imposing than the magazines suggested -- tall, broad shoulders, wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and an expression of cold fury.
His eyes were the same steel-grey she remembered, but there was no warmth in them, Just ice.
"Mr Blackwood, I --'', Her voice cracked. She forced herself to stand straight, even though she was dripping rainwater onto his expensive floors, "I need to speak to you. please.''
"How did you get in here?''
"That doesn't matter. What matters is--''
"Security,'' he said, already reaching for his phone.
"Wait!'' Ella rushed forward, desperation overriding every instinct for self-preservation.
Please just give me five minutes, Five minutes, and if you still want to throw me out, I'll go quietly.
Dominic's finger hovered over the screen. His gaze examined her disgusted at her cheap coat, her worn shoes. The way she was shaking, Not from cold, but fear.
"Four minutes,'' he said finally lowering the phone. "Starting now.''
Ella's relief nearly made her knees give up on her. "My name is Ella Morgan. Seventy years ago, your father and mine--''
"I know who you are.''
That stopped her cold. "You--you remember?''
Something flickered across his face to quick to read. "Jonathan Morgan's daughter' Your family used to summer in the Hamptons near my parent's estate. You had a butterfly collection and you cried when your brother caught fireflies.'' His voice was flat, reciting facts with no emotion. "Your father died in an accident eight years ago. Your mother has stage four cancer. You work three jobs and still can't make rent.''
His knowledge about her would have confronted her but it made her fell opened.
"Then you know why I'm here,'' she said quietly. "I need money. A lot of it and I need it by midnight tonight, or my mother and I...'' She couldn't finish the sentence.
"And you thought breaking into my office would convince me to hand over a fortune?'' Dominic moved behind his desk. "Bold strategy. Stupid but bold.
"I will do anything,'' Ella said, the words just came out. "I'll work for you, whatever you want. I just need--''
"How much?''
"Two hundred thousand dollars.''
The number hung in the air between them. To him, it was just pocket change. To her, it was everything.
Dominic was quietly for a long moment, studying her with those unreadable eyes. Then he opened a drawer and pulled out a thick folder, sliding it across the desk toward her.
"I will give you three million,'' he said.
Ella's world tilted. "I...what?''
"Three million dollar. Paid directly to your accounts tonight, before midnight, just get me your details. Enough to cover your mother's medical bills, your debts, and set you both up comfortably for life.''
It was too good to be true. Nothing in life was free, especially not from men like Dominic Blackwood.
"What do you want in return?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Dominic smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Open the folder."
With shaking hands, Ella flipped it open. The first page made her blood run cold.
''MARRIAGE CONTRACT"
"You want me to marry you?" She looked up, with confusion written on her face.
"For one year," Dominic clarified, leaning back in his chair. "You'll live in my penthouse, attend events as my wife, and play the role convincingly. In return, you get three million dollars and your freedom when the year is up."
"Why me? You could have anyone—"
"Because you're desperate enough to say yes, and smart enough to keep your mouth shut." He checked his watch. "It's 1 PM now. You have until midnight to decide. Sign the contract before then, and the money is yours. Walk away, and you'll never see me again."
Ella's mind raced. A year of her life for her mother's survival. It should be an easy choice.
But the way Dominic was looking at her—like she was a chess piece he was moving into position—made her certain she was missing something important.
"Why midnight?" she asked.
For the first time, something like emotion crossed his face. "Because that's when my father's will goes into effect. And according to its terms, if I'm not married by 12:01 AM tomorrow, I lose everything."
Understanding dawned. "You need a wife by midnight, and I need money by midnight."
"Understandable, isn't it?"
Ella looked down at the contract, at the neat lines waiting for her signature, at the promise of salvation and the guarantee of complications she couldn't begin to imagine.
Outside, thunder rumbled. The clock on Dominic's desk glowed 1:17 PM.
Eleven hours until midnight.
Eleven hours to decide if she'd sell her soul to save the only family she had left.
"I need to think about it," Ella said.
Dominic's smile sharpened. "Then I suggest you think fast, Miss Morgan. The clock is ticking."