Lily and the Cold Billionaire

Lily's POV:

It was a typical day at the restaurant—busy, loud, and full of clinking plates and people chatting. My feet barely touched the floor as I dashed from table to table, balancing trays of food while trying to keep a smile on my face. 

My phone buzzed for the third time in my pocket. I groaned. Probably another scam call or my alarm reminding me to take my break. Not that I had time for one. 

Without looking, I pulled the phone out and tossed it into the basket of clothes we used to clean up spills in the kitchen.

"Order up for table six!" The chef shouted.

"I'm on it!" I grabbed the plates and hurried back into the dining area. The restaurant's TV, mounted in the corner of the room caught my eye, as a reporter's voice rang out.

“Breaking news: Lucas Hawke, CEO of Hills Inc., accused of sexually harassing male employees. An anonymous source has come forward, claiming the billionaire threatened to ruin his career if he refused his advances.”

I nearly stumbled. Lucas Hawke? The Lucas Hawke? He was practically a ghost in the business world, a billionaire tycoon known for his cold nature and ruthlessness. 

The reporter went on. “Speculations about Hawke’s sexuality have circulated for years. The fact that he’s never been seen with a woman only fuels the allegations.”

A snort from behind me broke my focus. Jasmine, my best friend and partner-in-waitressing crime, leaned on the counter with a tray in hand, her face filled with disappointment.

“I can’t believe it.” She said. “Lucas Hawke. Gay. And not just gay—psychotic.”

I shrugged. “I’m more heartbroken that people like him are allowed to live good lives.”

She nodded grimly, but before I could add anything, one of the kitchen staff called out. “Lily, your phone’s buzzing again. It’s too noisy in here.”

Sighing, I set my tray on the counter and crouched down to grab my phone from the basket. My breath caught in my throat as I saw the screen—over 20 missed calls from Dad’s nurse.

Fear shot through me like lightning. My fingers fumbled as I called her back. It took three rings before she answered.

“Lily, is that you? Please hurry to the hospital immediately.”

“What’s wrong? What happened?” My voice shook.

“Some loan sharks came here looking for you. We locked your father’s room, but they’re threatening everyone and refusing to leave. They even beat up security.”

My stomach dropped. “I’m on my way.”

I hung up and turned to leave, but Jasmine grabbed my arm. “What’s going on?”

“It’s my dad. I have to go. I’ll explain later.”

“Okay.” She said, quickly scanning my tray. “This was for table thirteen, right? I’ll handle it.”

I nodded gratefully and ran out of the restaurant, hailing a cab as soon as I hit the sidewalk. The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity. Every time the driver slowed down, I barked. “Can’t you go any faster?”

By the time we arrived, I practically threw the fare at him and bolted toward the hospital entrance. I didn’t bother stopping at reception; I knew exactly where to go.

As I reached the male ward, I slammed into someone. “Sorry.” I mumbled, barely looking up.

“It’s okay, ma’am.” A male voice replied, but I was already rushing forward.

The sound of yelling and banging grew louder as I approached my dad’s room. A crowd had gathered—patients, nurses, and staff all whispering in hushed tones. Pushing my way through, I finally saw the source of the noise.

Five massive men were at the door, pounding and shouting. They looked like they belonged in a mafia movie, all muscles and cold glares. My legs gave out, and I dropped to my knees.

One of them noticed me and smirked. “Well, well, if it isn’t the daughter.”

“Where’s our money, huh?” Another barked. “You think you can keep hiding?”

“We are here to rip out your father's organs and sell them off to get our money back.” Another chimed in.

“Please.” I begged, my voice trembling. “Just give me until next week. I’ll get you the money, I promise.”

The biggest of the group—clearly their leader—stepped forward and crouched in front of me, his expression cold and wicked. “Next week? That’s what you said last time.” He leaned closer. “It’s either his organs, your body, or my money.”

Tears streamed down my face as I whispered, “Please… I’m trying.”

He straightened up and barked at his men. “Let’s go. We’ve made our point.”

As they left, he turned back to me. “You’ve got three days, girl. After that, no more mercy.”

Standing up, I folded my hands and began. “I am so sorry for all this.” I said, with my had bowed.

The crowd murmured as they walked away, and I felt a fresh wave of humiliation wash over me. A nurse rushed to open the door, and I stumbled inside.

Dad laid on the bed, pale and motionless, hooked up to a dozen machines. Two weeks ago, he’d slipped into a coma after losing everything in a bad stock deal. My savings, his gambling money—it was all gone.

I sat beside him, sobbing quietly. The whispers outside didn’t matter anymore.

The nurse reappeared, looking sympathetic. “Those men broke a lot of things. You should speak to the doctor about the damages.”

“How much will it cost?” I asked, not even looking up.

She hesitated. “Over a million dollars.”

Her words sent me spiraling. My chest tightened, my hands turned clammy, and my head spun. I mumbled an excuse and ran out of the room, gasping for air by the time I reached the lobby.

A year ago, we’d lost everything—our house, our business, even our dignity. I worked myself to the bone, juggling jobs and selling art just to keep us from hunger, but it was never enough. And now this?

“Miss?”

I looked up, startled. A man stood before me, his voice vaguely familiar.

“I have a job proposal for you.” He said calmly.

“What?”

“My boss is looking for a wife. A contract wife. You’ll be paid twenty-five million dollars.”

I stared at him, my mind struggling to process his words. “Excuse me?”

He met my gaze, unflinching. “Would you like to marry Lucas Hawke?”