Billionaire's Prisoner

Cynthia looked at the curtains her grandmother had sewn by hand near the old wooden cabinet filled with porcelain cups nobody used anymore. The scent of her grandmother should have disappeared months ago. Yet it remained. Just like the silence.

It had been six months since her grandmother died. Six months since she had become twenty-two years old and the sole guardian of her twelve-year-old brother. Six months since she had discovered how frightening adulthood truly was.

“Cyn?”

Leo's voice pulled her back.

He was standing in the doorway in his school uniform, his backpack hanging from one shoulder.

“Are you making tea or trying to burn the house down?”

She rolled her eyes and switched off the stove.

“You should be grateful I haven't,”

Leo grinned.

For a moment, the house felt alive again.

Cynthia poured tea for both of them.

She watched Leo sit at the dining table; he’s too thin and pale. He’s not looking as healthy as a normal twelve-year-old should be.

He’d been through a lot; they both had been, but at least they had their grandmother for support. But now she feels so lonely and scared. There were stacks of unpaid bills on the counter; her chest tightened.

“Did you take your medication?” she asked.

Leo groaned.

“Yes”

“Show me,”

“Cyn!”

"Show me."

He dramatically pulled the empty blister pack from his pocket. Satisfied, Cynthia finally sat down.

Leo saw the bills too. His smile faded.

“They called again?”

Cynthia forced a smile.

“It's nothing,”

“You always say that”

Because if she told him the truth, he would blame himself, and she couldn't bear that.

She has only three months before the bank takes over the house, his surgery cost more than she could earn in ten years, and she lay awake every night terrified she'd fail him.

“You focus on school.”

“You focus on becoming rich.”

Leo snorted.

"With my art?” she chuckled.

“You draw sad girls in the rain,”

“They sell,”

“No, they don't,” Leo laughed.

Then suddenly, he stopped.

His face twisted. His hand flew to his chest.

“Cyn...”

The cup slipped from Cynthia's hand.

“Leo?”

He was breathing hard and Cynthia held him. Panic surged through her.

"Leo! Leo, look at me."

"I'm okay," he whispered.

He wasn't. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his lips were losing color. And she knew she should do something.

.

.

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and despair.

Cynthia looked at the doctor sitting to her, he closed the file and sighed.

‘Miss Hart. Your brother's condition is worsening.’

She looked at Leo sleeping.

‘He seemed okay,”

“He isn't.”

The words struck harder than she expected.

“The surgery cannot be delayed any longer. His heart could stop at any moment,”

“I know,”

“Do you?”

She looked away, feeling guilty.

“I understand your circumstances,”

No one understood what it was like to lose everyone. To bury the woman who raised you. To stand in a difficult situation without having anyone by their side.

“The hospital can't continue postponing this.”

“How much does the surgery cost?” she asked quietly.

The doctor told her. Her stomach dropped.

The doctor looked uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry."

Cynthia nodded. She stood. Thanked him and came out.

And only when she reached the stairwell did she break.

She cried for Leo and for herself. She can’t lose her brother, and there’s no point in living after that. She can do anything to save Leo.

Her phone buzzed. It’s Mia. She almost ignored it.

“Hello?”

“Cynthia,”

Mia sounded nervous.

“You okay?”

“No,”

“Will you do anything to save your brother,”

“Yes,” Cynthia said hopefully. She’d asked Mia for help as she’s the rich kid in the class.

“I know a way to get the money,”

“What is it?”

"Have you heard of the Companion Program?"

Cynthia frowned.

"No."

"It's... you shouldn’t get mad," Mia hesitated.

“I can do anything, Mia, tell me,”

“It's a contract,”

“What kind of contract?”

“A one-year companionship agreement,”

“What?”

“You have to accompany the wealthy sponsor for a year and do what they ask you,”

“That sounds disgusting,”

“It's legal,”

“That doesn't make it better.”

“You don't have to sleep with anyone,”

Cynthia remained silent.

Mia continued.

“The compensation is ridiculous.”

“How ridiculous?”

“Enough for Leo's surgery,”

Cynthia's breath hitched.

“It could be a lonely old man wanted a person to talk to, just consider. It’s not always selling your body,” Mia said. Now Cynthia knows, this is how she’s living a luxury life.

"No,” Cynthia said.

“I want you to save your brother. Look, I got to know your situation, and that’s why I’m recommending you, or else I wouldn’t dare speak s word about this,” she said.

The words hung heavily between them.

Cynthia closed her eyes. Her grandmother would hate this. Wouldn't she? Or... would she tell Cynthia to survive? To protect Leo no matter the cost?

"When should I come?" Cynthia asked.

Mia exhaled.

“Saturday,”

Cynthia knows she shouldn't do this, but what other choice does she have?