Chapter 3

JACQUELINE

My hands trembled as I read the messages over and over, my heart hammering in my chest, each beat harder than the last one. I clicked on the contact info, but all I could see was generic nothing specific. My mind raced—could this be a prank? A scam? Or something else entirely? But the more I tried to make sense of it, the less I could figure out. What are the odds that a random stranger would offer to pay my daughter’s medical bills in exchange for marriage? A hundred apparently. Or could this be Peter playing some dumb jokes on me right now?

My phone beeped in my hands, another message came in.

-It’s your choice. If you agree, the payment will be handled instantly. We’ll discuss terms when I say so-

If I agree? I’ll be damned if I don’t agree!

I didn’t even hesitate, I didn’t even consider any nonsense pros and cons because as far as I was concerned, if this agreement would make Jess okay, then that was all the pros I need. My fingers flew to the reply bar. It could be a joke, but what did I have to lose? One chance, that’s all I needed.

-I AGREE.-

I hit send, my pulse racing as I waited for a response. The silence that followed was louder than a class packed with fifty rebellious teenagers. I held my breath, staring at the screen, my hands clenched around my phone as if it would somehow magically make a reply come through.

One minute... Two minutes... Five... Ten... Twenty...

Nothing.

My heart sank in my chest. Of course, what had I expected? Why had I even let myself get excited over this ridiculous thing?

With a resigned sigh, I dropped my hands, my shoulders slumping. I took two slow steps away, preparing to move on to better options, I just might go back to where I worked to get a loan and—

Beep.

My breath caught in my throat. My hand shot out, raising my phone, my eyes widening as I saw the email notification. It was from the hospital. I tapped it open, my heart skipping a beat.

A receipt for fully paid medical and surgery bills flashed across the screen. My pulse spiked. No—this couldn’t be real. And then I saw it: a notification that the surgery was scheduled to take place immediately.

Without thinking, I broke out in a run, my feet barely touching the ground. The hospital was a twenty-minute walk away, but that distance didn’t matter now. My phone clenched tight in my hand, I ran, and all I could think about was reaching that hospital as soon as possible.

***

ONE HOUR LATER

"You can’t go beyond these doors, ma’am, please wait here," the nurse said softly, her voice barely reaching my ears over the defeaning roar of my heart. I stood frozen, my hand gripping the fabric of my worn out sweater so tightly my knuckles were white. I watched as they wheeled my daughter into the operating room, her tiny body swallowed by the bed, and the doors closed behind her.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. All I could do was wait. Every second felt like six hours, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I could only wait. Wait and pray. I pressed my back against the cold wall and sank to the floor, my tears falling silently as I whispered a prayer to God. The doctor said she has a 70/30 percent chance of surviving, getting the money was not the end, I really need a miracle right now.

And then, what felt like a century later, the doors slow went open again. My breath caught in my throat as the medical team appeared, pushing the bed toward me, I flung to my feet immediately. My daughter was there, her chest rising and falling with the rhythm of the machines.

The surgeon approached, his face tired but calm.

"It was successful," he said, more tears flowed down my face as I slowly stepped forward to look down at Jess.

“And we’ve upgraded her to a private VIP room. All of it’s been taken care of."

I blinked, VIP room? Was that part of the agreement too? But I had plenty of time to worry about that later. My daughter was okay. She was safe Atleast. I felt a rush of emotion—relief, gratitude, exhaustion—all at once. I nodded, unable to speak, as they wheeled her away following behind quietly.

My phone beeped, I slowly took it out of my pocket and clicked on the message.

-Radisson Blue. 10pm tonight -

RADISSON BLUE

I sat quietly at the table the waiter had led me to, my eyes drifting across the lavish decor of the city's most expensive restaurant. It was nearly empty, save for a few staff moving about quietly. When I asked why, the waiter smiled politely and said the entire place had been booked out.

That alone made my heart race. I didn’t know who I was about to play pretend wife to, but if this was any indication, I was way out of my league.

I sensed him before I saw him.

His aura effortlessly filled the room . I pushed back my chair and stood, unsure whether to bow or drop to my knees or lie on the floor at his feet in gratitude. But when I finally laid eyes on him, my breath caught in my throat. My jaw fell open shamelessly before I could stop it.

He looked like God didn’t leave the project of creating him to his angels, like God took absolute care to sculpture him, with his own hands. His face almost too flawless to be real and I wasn’t even exaggerating. To be this handsome is supposed to be a sin and illegal. My cheeks burned with the realization that I was outrightly drooling.

He slowly and confidently took long strides towards me. When he stopped just inches from me, his lips curled into a tiny almost unnoticeable smile, yet wide enough to make my knees wobble. I forced my mouth closed and cleared my throat.

“Thank—” My voice cracked embarrassingly. I cursed inwardly, took a breath, stepped back, and bowed low with my hands clasped tightly in front of me.

“Thank you so much for your kindness,” I said, eyes shut tight. “I don’t know how to repay you, but I’ll do everything you ask of me.”

Silence.

Then the soft clicking of his shoes walking away.

I looked up and saw him seated at the table, already reaching for a glass of water. He gestured toward the chair opposite him. I rushed to sit, keeping my hands neatly on my lap.

A waiter appeared on cue, and without even glancing up, the man spoke.

“You can bring it in now.”

Once the food was served, he spoke again, his voice calm, cool, and precise.

“This arrangement will last for fourteen days. I need you to stay in my house and pretend to be my wife while my parents are in town.”

I blinked and exhaled softly. He went on without pausing,

“Your daughter will be moved into the house. She’ll receive proper medical care. I’ll handle the backstory—just follow my lead.”

From his pocket, he pulled out a small flash drive and slid it across the table to me.

“This is the version of our story you need to memorize. Stick to it.”

I nodded, unable to speak, my fingers trembling slightly as I picked up the drive.

He turned his attention to the steak in front of him, cutting into it,

“This won’t be for free,” he added smoothly. “I’ll pay you daily. Impress me, and I’ll double it.”

My eyes widened. I shook my head quickly, lifting both hands in protest.

“No, no, you don’t need to pay me. You’ve already done more than enough—”

“Ten thousand dollars,” he interrupted, eyes still on his plate. “It’s not up for negotiation.”

He took a bite of steak, chewed slowly. I swallowed hard as I watched him chew his food, ten thousand dollars everyday to play pretend? If I impress him I’ll get double? Pretend wife I played throughout my entire childhood for free? shall I just set up my own business? bring all contract wife deals to me. I marry rich people on contract for a living, sounds nice actually. He finally looked up at me, his gaze sizing me up and automatically shutting my thoughts up.

Then he nodded toward the untouched food in front of me.

“Eat.”

I swallowed hard and picked up my fork as I nodded firmly.

It’s just fourteen days. What could possibly go wrong in fourteen days?