THE PROPOSAL

The hospital smelled like death and disinfectant. I held Violet's tiny hand as machines beeped around us, keeping my baby alive. Her skin was paper-thin, her breathing shallow. She looked so small in that big hospital bed, like she might disappear if I blinked.

"Miss Carter?" The doctor's voice cut through my prayers. Dr. Martinez was a kind-faced woman, but her eyes held bad news. "We need to talk."

My stomach dropped. "Is she... will she be okay?"

"Your daughter has acute kidney dysfunction. It's serious, but treatable. However..." She paused, and I knew what was coming. "The treatment will require immediate surgery, followed by extensive care and medication. The total cost will be approximately ten thousand dollars."

Ten thousand dollars. The number hit me like a truck.

"I... I don't have that kind of money," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please, there has to be another way. Payment plans, charity, something.."

"I'm sorry, Miss Carter. Hospital policy requires fifty percent upfront before we can proceed with the surgery. Without it..." She didn't finish. She didn't have to.

"Please!" I grabbed her arm, desperation making me bold. "She's just a baby! I'll do anything, work extra jobs, sell everything I own. Just please don't let her die because of money!"

Dr. Martinez's face softened, but her words stayed hard. "I wish I could help, but my hands are tied. You have until tomorrow morning to make the payment, or we'll have to transfer her to the county general."

County general. Where poor people went to die.

I stumbled out of Violet's room, my legs barely holding me up. In the hallway, I collapsed into a plastic chair and buried my face in my hands. Ten thousand dollars might as well have been ten million. Even with Alexander's five hundred, I was nowhere close.

Alexander.

The card was still in my pocket, slightly crumpled from my shaking hands. The elegant black lettering seemed to mock me: Alexander Richie, CEO, Richie Enterprises.

What did I have to lose? My pride was already gone. My dignity had died in that club months ago. All I had left was Violet, and she was slipping away.

I dialed with trembling fingers.

One ring. Two rings.

"Alexander Richie."

His voice was smooth, confident. The voice of a man who'd never begged for anything in his life.

"Alexander? It's... it's Emily. From last night?"

A pause. Then, warmer: "Emily. I was hoping you'd call."

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I... I need help." The words came out in a rush. "My daughter is in the hospital. She needs surgery and I don't have the money and they won't help her without payment and I don't know what else to do.."

"Slow down," he said gently. "Where are you?"

"Saint Mary's Hospital. But you don't have to.."

"I'm twenty minutes away. Meet me at the Ritz Carlton across the street. Presidential suite. I'll handle everything."

The line went dead.

Twenty minutes later, I stood outside the most expensive hotel I'd ever seen. The doorman looked at me like I was dirt on his shoe, but I pushed past him anyway. The elevator ride to the top floor felt like ascending to heaven.

Alexander opened the door before I could knock. He was dressed casually now, dark jeans and a white shirt that probably cost more than my rent. But it was his eyes that caught me. They were worried.

"Emily, what happened?"

The moment I saw him, the dam broke. All the fear, all the desperation, came pouring out in ugly, choking sobs.

"She's dying," I gasped between tears. "My baby girl is dying and I can't save her. The doctor said ten thousand dollars and I don't have it and they won't help her without money and she's so small and scared and I can't lose her, Alexander. I can't lose the only good thing in my life."

Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest. He smelled like expensive cologne and safety. For a moment, I let myself pretend someone actually cared.

"Shh," he whispered into my hair. "It's going to be okay. I'm here now."

He led me to a leather couch that probably cost more than my car. The suite was bigger than my entire apartment, all floor-to-ceiling windows and marble surfaces. A cigarette burned in a crystal ashtray on the coffee table.

"Tell me everything," he said, sitting beside me.

So I did. About Violet's fever, the hospital, the doctor's ultimatum. He listened without interrupting, his gray eyes never leaving my face.

When I finished, he was quiet for a long moment. Then he reached for his cigarette, taking a slow drag.

"Ten thousand dollars," he said finally.

"I know it's a lot. I know I have no right to ask. But I'm desperate, Alexander. I'll do anything. Work for you, clean your house, whatever you need. I'll pay you back, I swear."

He stubbed out the cigarette and turned to face me fully. There was something different in his expression now. Something calculating.

"I'll pay for everything," he said. "The surgery, the aftercare, whatever she needs."

My heart nearly stopped. "You... you will?"

"Yes. But I have one condition."

I should have been suspicious. Should have known nothing in life was free. But hope made me stupid.

"Anything," I breathed. "Whatever you want."

Alexander reached out and took my hands in his. His touch was warm, but his words were ice cold.

"Marry me."

The world tilted on its axis. "What?"

"You heard me. Marry me, Emily. Be my wife."

I stared at him, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I... I don't understand. You barely know me."

"I know enough." His grip tightened on my hands. "I know you're desperate. I know you'd do anything to save your daughter. And I know you need me more than I've ever been needed by anyone."

"But why?" The words came out as a whisper. "Why would you want to marry someone like me?"

Something flickered across his face, pain, maybe, or loneliness. But it was gone too quickly for me to be sure.

"That's my business. The question is, Emily Carter, what's your daughter's life worth to you?"

My breath caught in my throat. He was asking me to sell myself. Not for a night, not for money, but forever. To bind myself to a stranger, to become property in exchange for Violet's life.

But as I looked into his storm-gray eyes, seeing the determination there, I realized he wasn't really asking at all.

He was making me an offer I couldn't refuse…