Marriage Contract

Evy. "Your name, please!" "Evy Dixon." "Alright, Evy! We have an opening in the pantry. It's quite different from what your resume showcases, but..." I inhale deeply. The truth is, I've pounded the pavement and sent resumes all over this city, and nothing. And the worst part? I can't afford to wait any longer. I need a job, and I needed it yesterday! "Okay, I'll take it!" "Are you sure?" "Unfortunately, I don't have much choice. I urgently need a job and a paycheck." I muster a smile for the woman behind the employment agency counter. "Alright! I'll jot down the address for you and notify D'Angelo that you'll be filling the position." "Thank you, Dany!" After she records the details, I exit the building and head straight for D'Angelo Corporation. A position at one of the country's premier accounting and management firms would be an unparalleled opportunity for my career. Serving coffee, tidying counters, and tables weren't what I had envisioned, but for today, it works wonders

Evy, Later tonight... I open the front door eagerly anticipating a long bath, craving to devour dinner, and then simply collapse into my bed. However, upon seeing Mary standing in my living room with a pitying expression, my energy renews, and I hurry towards the second room down the narrow hallway. I stop, frozen, as I spot my mother sitting at the edge of her bed, rocking back and forth, her gaze distant. "She's not doing well today," Mary comments, coming to a stop beside me. "What happened?" She lets out an audible sigh. "I don't know. Judy simply refused to take her meds and started saying she was seeing her father in the room. I tried to calm her down, but she wouldn't stop screaming, and when she finally did, she became like this." "Damn it, Mary, why didn't you call me?" "And disrupt your second day of work?" "But, Mary, she's my mother!" "Yes, I know. And you need that job to help her." I exhale sharply and move closer to my mother. I place my hands on her shoulders,

Gael. Hours later... I enter the house to its usual silence and, after getting rid of my tie, I go to the corner bar and pour myself a generous shot of whisky. Afterwards, I approach a glass wall and observe the streets with their bright lights and the bridges that seem to wrap around the city. You can't hear anything from here, everything seems too quiet, but the chaotic traffic says otherwise. I take another sip of my drink and decide to go up to the second floor of the penthouse, and then to the master bedroom. I take a long shower, put on some comfortable clothes and call the hotel restaurant to order my dinner. While I'm waiting, I lock myself in the office and open D'Angelo's accounting minutes. A few months ago we discovered that our chief accountant was carrying out some petty theft in the company. Of course, I demanded secrecy on the matter, because I didn't want my name in the tabloid gossip, let alone to be seen as a weak and inattentive businessman. That's exactly why P

Evy — Evy, are you okay?" Wendy asks with concern as soon as I enter the pantry. I ignore her worry and head straight to my boss's office, and as I walk in, Dylan stands up from his chair. He doesn't hide a worried look and immediately comes over to me. "Evy, what's wrong?!" Without hesitation, I rush into his arms and cry there for some time until I feel relieved. I sense him gently patting my back, and when I finally compose myself, I step away from his embrace, feeling embarrassed. "I'm sorry for that, Dylan," I say, avoiding eye contact. "No need to apologize, dear. Do you want to talk about what happened?" Although I desperately need to confide in someone, I shake my head. "Can you let me off for today? I'm sorry, I just can't work!" He exhales audibly. "Just because I can see you're not doing well, but you'll have to make up for it tomorrow," he says. I agree with another nod. "I promise! Thank you, Dylan!" I immediately leave his office and the building minutes later. As

Evy After signing the contract with Mr. D'Angelo, everything in my life began to happen as if by magic. A call from the bank informed me that the mortgage on the house where I was born and raised had been paid off, the creditors who had simply vanished from my doorstep, and my mother who had been transferred to a specialized private oncology clinic. Finally, I could breathe a sigh of relief! The next steps would be timed. D'Angelo and I would have a photo session narrating our "love story," and his assistant would handle the rumors surrounding the coveted "Lion of Business" wedding. In the end, he looked into my eyes and said, "Get ready for the best part!" I wondered if there was anything better than laying my head on the pillow and sleeping without tears, without regrets, and without thinking about the next day. Surely, there wouldn't be. "Ready, your mother is settled in now. Can we talk?" Dr. Monique Toledo approached, pulling me from my reverie. I glanced at the door she had jus