Chapter 3

The hawk-eyed man stepped one pace closer, cutting the distance between them until Aixa could smell the expensive cologne lingering on his body. The black umbrella Sebastian held now shielded her head from the pounding rain, yet the cold surrounding them seemed to grow even heavier.

“How much do you need, Holy Girl?” the man asked, emphasizing the word holy with a sneer dripping with mockery. In his eyes, Aixa’s determination was nothing more than a world-class performance by an opportunistic woman.

Aixa clenched her fists at her sides. Ignoring the violent trembling in her knees, she lifted her chin sharply.

“Fifty thousand euros. Cash. Tonight.”

Sebastian, standing beside the man, was stunned. Fifty thousand euros was not a small amount to hand over to a stranger on the side of the road. The assistant was about to throw Aixa out, but a simple gesture from his employer froze him in place.

The man stared at Aixa as though she were merely a piece of merchandise being evaluated.

“Only fifty thousand euros for the purity you’re so proud of? That’s surprisingly cheap.”

Aixa’s cheeks burned hotter. The sting at the corner of her lips from Elio’s slap began throbbing again. But the image of Leo dying in the emergency room erased every trace of humiliation.

“Take it or leave it, sir. I don’t have much time.”

The man snorted before glancing at his assistant without emotion.

“Sebastian, give her the money.”

“But, Sir—”

“Give it to her,” he interrupted, his deep baritone voice leaving no room for argument.

Sebastian hurried to open the trunk of the Rolls-Royce. He retrieved a small black briefcase that was always kept ready for urgent business matters and handed it to Aixa reluctantly.

Aixa accepted the bag.

It was heavy.

When she unzipped it slightly, neat stacks of euro banknotes greeted her eyes.

Her breath caught.

Her brother could be saved.

Before she could turn and leave, a thin card edged in gold appeared in front of her face. The hawk-eyed man was holding it.

“Come to my office tomorrow at nine in the morning to sign our marriage contract,” he said coldly. “If you’re even one minute late, I’ll make sure you rot in a Madrid prison on fraud charges.”

Without waiting for Aixa’s response, he turned and walked into Velvet Bar with several bodyguards, leaving her standing motionless beneath the pouring rain.

Her hands trembling from cold and shock, Aixa lifted the business card beneath the dim streetlight.

The moment her eyes read the embossed lettering, her heart nearly leaped out of her chest.

Fernando Castello Ortega

Chief Executive Officer, Castello Group

Aixa covered her mouth.

Her body swayed, and she nearly collapsed onto the wet asphalt.

Fernando Castello Ortega?

The richest billionaire in Spain, whose business empire stretched across almost all of Europe?

Aixa had heard his name countless times in financial newspapers at university and on television news broadcasts. He was known as a ruthless, cold-hearted business king who never forgave even the smallest mistake.

His face was rarely seen by the public because he guarded his private life fiercely.

She had never imagined that the devilishly handsome man who had just bargained for her like a commodity was that very person.

“Taxi! Taxi!”

Aixa snapped out of her shock as a yellow cab passed by.

Using the last of her strength, she waved frantically, jumped inside, and hugged the bag of money tightly against her chest.

“Madrid Central Hospital! Quickly, sir!”

Meanwhile, inside the VIP section of Velvet Bar, now far from the entrance, Sebastian hurried after Fernando’s long strides.

The assistant’s face was clouded with the concern he had been suppressing.

“Mr. Fernando, forgive me if I’m mistaken,” Sebastian said carefully. “Isn’t it too risky to hand over that much cash to a stranger on the street? What if she scams us? She hasn’t even signed any documents yet.”

Fernando stopped in front of a private elevator.

He turned slightly, revealing his sharp jawline and dangerously gleaming eyes.

“Scam me?”

Fernando smirked.

A low, contemptuous chuckle escaped him.

“A frightened little girl like that wouldn’t have the courage to run off with my money, Sebastian. If she does, it means she’s tired of living and ready to step into the hell I create with my own hands.”

Fernando entered the elevator, leaving Sebastian swallowing hard.

The assistant knew very well that his employer’s words were not empty threats.

Anyone foolish enough to cross Fernando Castello would meet a disastrous end.

The smell of medicine and disinfectant immediately assaulted Aixa’s senses as she ran through the glass doors of Madrid Central Hospital.

Her soaking clothes left a trail of water across the corridor floor, drawing the attention of several nurses, but she did not care.

“Nurse! Here’s the deposit! Fifty thousand euros!”

Aixa slammed the black bag onto the emergency admissions counter, breathing heavily.

The administrative officer stared in shock at the drenched teenage girl carrying that much cash.

After quickly checking and counting it with a machine, the officer nodded.

“The amount is correct, Miss Aixa. The cardiac specialist is ready. Your brother Leo’s operation will begin tonight.”

The moment she heard those words, all the strength left her legs.

She collapsed into one of the cold chairs in the waiting area.

Through the small glass window of the sterile ward, she watched as the bed carrying her ten-year-old brother was wheeled into the operating room.

Aixa buried her face in her hands.

Tears streamed down her cheeks once more, but this time they were tears of relief.

Leo had a chance to live.

Even if the price was her dignity and the rest of her life, sold to a stranger who viewed her as a lowly woman.

“I’m sorry, Leo,” Aixa whispered softly, staring at her fingers, which still carried the scent of Fernando Ortega’s cedarwood cologne.

“I’ll do anything, as long as you stay with me.”

Back inside the warmth of Velvet Bar’s private lounge, the party atmosphere remained lively for most people.

But not for Elio Santiago Alvarez.

The man was drinking his third glass of whiskey with unnecessary force.

Beside him, Catalina continued rambling about her vacation in London, but Elio’s mind was elsewhere.

His gaze kept drifting toward the oak door that Aixa had burst through earlier.

“What’s wrong, Elio? You seem distracted,” Catalina asked, leaning against his shoulder affectionately.

“Nothing,” Elio replied shortly.

He swirled the whiskey in his glass.

For some reason, the image of Aixa staring at him with clear eyes filled with defiance refused to leave his mind.

For the past two years, Aixa had always obeyed him.

The country girl always smiled sweetly, forgave every one of his bad habits, and cooked for him as though he were the center of her world.

Elio was certain that her actions tonight were nothing more than an emotional outburst.

She’ll probably call me tomorrow morning crying, he thought with absolute confidence. A poor girl like her won’t survive in Madrid without me. She’s hopelessly in love with me. Tomorrow she’ll be begging me to take her back.

Yet, for some reason, a strange unease lingered in a corner of his heart.

A part of him refused to accept that Aixa had truly turned away and left him behind.

The way she had grabbed Catalina earlier. The sharp, icy look in her eyes.

That was not the Aixa he knew.

Elio clenched his fist beneath the table.

He would not allow that country girl to slip away before he was completely tired of her.

If Aixa doesn’t come begging tomorrow, then I’ll drag her back into my arms myself.

But wait... where is my pride?

What’s wrong with me?

Don’t I not love her?