Chapter 4

After the meeting,when Sophia git home she couldn't sleep

She sat in the darkness of her mother's bedroom, watching Elena's chest rise and fall with the labored rhythm that had become their nighttime soundtrack. The oxygen concentrator hummed in the corner, a constant reminder of time slipping away like sand through her fingers.

Five million dollars.

The number pulsed in her mind like a neon sign, impossible to ignore. She'd done the math three times already. Elena's experimental treatment would cost two million over the next year. The medical bills they already owed totaled another eight hundred thousand. The mortgage on this apartment, the one they'd nearly lost twice already, was three months behind.

Five million would solve everything.

But at what cost?

"You're thinking so loud you're going to wake the dead," Elena murmured without opening her eyes.

"I thought you were asleep."

"Hard to sleep when my daughter is having a crisis loud enough to rattle the windows." Elena's eyes opened, still sharp despite the pain medication. "Tell me about dinner."

Sophia had given her mother the sanitized version when she'd returned home past midnight successful businessman, potential client, nice restaurant. But Elena Martinez hadn't raised a daughter who could lie convincingly, not to her.

"He offered me a job."

"What kind of job has you pacing the apartment at three in the morning?"

Sophia moved to the window, staring out at the pre-dawn darkness. "The kind that would pay for your treatment."

The silence stretched between them, heavy with understanding.

"How much money are we talking about?" Elena's voice was careful, neutral.

"Enough to take care of everything. The treatment, the debts, everything."

"And what would you have to do for this money?"

Sophia closed her eyes. "Pretend to be someone I'm not."

"Mija." Elena's voice was gentle but firm. "We've been pretending for five years. Pretending we're not one medical bill away from losing everything. Pretending we don't know people cross the street when they see us coming because of what your father did. Pretending I'm not dying."

"Mama"

"No, listen to me." Elena struggled to sit up, and Sophia rushed to help her, adjusting the pillows behind her back. "Your father's choices stole a lot from us. Our home, our friends, our peace of mind. But they don't get to steal your future too."

"This isn't about the money."

"Isn't it?"

Sophia sank into the chair beside the bed. "He wants me to pretend to be engaged to him. For six months. He needs it for some business deal, and to make his ex-fiancée jealous."

Elena was quiet for a long moment. "He's using you."

"Yes."

"And you're going to let him."

"I don't know." Sophia rubbed her temples, where a headache had been building since she'd left the restaurant. "Part of me wants to say yes because we need the money. Part of me wants to say no because because I'm scared of what he'll do to me."

"And what part of you wants to say yes because you're attracted to him?"

Trust her mother to cut straight to the heart of it. "That's the part that scares me most."

Elena reached for Sophia's hand, her grip surprisingly strong. "Tell me about him. Really tell me."

So Sophia did. She told her mother about Ethan's intensity, his confidence, the way he seemed to see straight through her careful defenses. She told her about his smile, his voice, the way her entire body had responded to a simple touch of his fingers against her neck.

She told her about the way he'd known exactly what dress she'd wear, exactly what would tempt her, exactly how desperate she was.

"He sounds dangerous," Elena said when Sophia finished.

"He is."

"The kind of dangerous that could destroy you."

"Yes."

"Or the kind that could save you."

Sophia looked at her mother in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"You've been dead for five years, mija. Going through the motions, working yourself into the ground, punishing yourself for crimes you didn't commit. When was the last time you felt alive?"

"I feel alive. I'm here with you, taking care of"

"When was the last time you felt like a woman instead of a caregiver? When was the last time someone looked at you and saw Sophia, not 'that poor girl whose father ruined the Cross family'?"

The question hit harder than Sophia expected. Because the answer was last night. Sitting across from Ethan Cross, she'd felt beautiful, desired, powerful. For the first time in five years, she'd felt like herself instead of the ghost of who she used to be.

"He sees me," she admitted quietly.

"Good. Then maybe this isn't just about money after all."

Sophia's phone buzzed on the nightstand. A text message at 4:17 AM.

*Can't sleep either? - E*

She stared at the screen, her heart racing.

*How do you know I'm awake?*

*Because you're like me. When you want something, sleep becomes optional.*

*Who says I want anything?*

*Your pulse when I touched your neck. Your breathing when I leaned close. The way you looked at me when I said this wouldn't just be an act.*

Heat flooded her cheeks. The man was impossibly arrogant and unfortunately accurate.

*You're very sure of yourself.*

*I have to be. I'm about to risk everything on a woman who crashed my party in a borrowed dress.*

*The dress wasn't borrowed.*

*I know. Just like I know you're sitting in your mother's room right now, trying to decide whether to save her life or protect your pride.*

Sophia glanced at Elena, who was watching with interest.

*Is he always this presumptuous?* Elena whispered.

Sophia typed: *My mother wants to know if you're always this presumptuous.*

The response came immediately: *Tell your mother I'm presumptuous enough to believe her daughter is brave enough to take the biggest risk of her life.*

Elena laughed, a sound that had become rare in recent months. "I like him."

"You don't even know him."

"I know he's got you more alive than I've seen you in years. I know he's offering us a way out. And I know you're attracted to him whether you want to admit it or not."

Sophia's phone buzzed again.

*I'm outside.*

"What?" Sophia rushed to the window and peered down at the street. The black town car was parked at the curb, hazard lights blinking.

*Come down. We need to talk.*

*It's four in the morning.*

*Like I said, sleep is optional. Come down, Sophia. Unless you're afraid.*

Elena was already reaching for her robe. "Go."

"Mama, you should rest"

"I should see the man who's about to change my daughter's life. Help me to the window."

Against her better judgment, Sophia helped Elena to the chair by the window. Together, they watched as Ethan emerged from the car. Even at four in the morning, he looked perfectly put together in dark jeans and a cashmere sweater that probably cost more than Sophia's monthly rent.

He looked up at their window as if he could sense them watching, raised his hand in a small wave.

"Dios mío," Elena breathed. "No wonder you can't think straight."

"Mama"

"Go. Talk to him. But Sophia?" Elena caught her daughter's hand. "Whatever you decide, make sure it's what you want. Not what you think you should want, not what would make me proud, not what would honor your father's memory. What you want."

"What if I don't know what I want?"

Elena smiled, the expression transforming her tired face. "Then maybe it's time to find out."

Five minutes later, Sophia was standing on the sidewalk in her pajamas and a coat, feeling ridiculous and strangely exhilarated.

"You came," Ethan said.

"You knew I would."

"I hoped you would." He moved closer, and she caught the scent of his cologne, something expensive and masculine that made her want to lean into him. "Walk with me."

They walked in silence through the empty streets, their footsteps echoing off the buildings. The city felt different at this hour, quieter but somehow more intimate, as if they were the only two people in the world.

"My mother likes you," Sophia said finally.

"Smart woman."

"She thinks I should say yes."

"And what do you think?"

Sophia stopped walking. "I think you're going to break my heart."

Ethan turned to face her, his expression serious. "Probably."

"I think you're using me to get revenge on someone who hurt you."

"Definitely."

"I think you're dangerous and arrogant and completely wrong for me."

"All true." He stepped closer, close enough that she could see the flecks of silver in his gray eyes. "Anything else?"

"I think..." She took a shaky breath. "I think I'm going to say yes anyway."

His smile was slow, triumphant, and devastating. "Good."

"But I have conditions."

"I'm listening."

"I want half the money upfront. In a trust account that I control, designated for my mother's medical expenses."

"Done."

"I want a contract that clearly outlines expectations and protections for both of us."

"My lawyers will have it ready by noon."

"And I want your word that when this is over, you'll leave us alone. No matter what happens between us, no matter how this ends, you walk away and let me rebuild my life."

Something flickered in his eyes disappointment? regret?but he nodded. "You have my word."

"Then yes." The word came out as barely a whisper. "I'll do it."

Ethan closed the distance between them, his hands framing her face with surprising gentleness. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, and her body swayed toward his in anticipation.

Instead, he pressed his forehead against hers, his voice low and rough. "You have no idea what you've just agreed to."

"Then I guess we'll figure it out together."

He smiled at that, a real smile that transformed his entire face. "Six months, Sophia Martinez. Think you can handle being engaged to me for six months?"

Looking into his eyes, feeling the warmth of his hands on her face, breathing in his scent and feeling more alive than she had in years, Sophia realized the question wasn't whether she could handle six months with Ethan Cross.

The question was whether she could handle walking away when it was over.

"Ask me in six months," she said.

His laugh was rich and warm in the pre-dawn darkness. "I intend to."

As they walked back toward her building, Sophia caught sight of her mother watching from the window above. Elena raised her hand in a small wave, and Sophia knew that whatever happened next, whatever Ethan Cross did to her heart and her life, she'd made the right choice.

For the first time in five years, she was choosing to live instead of just survive.

The question was whether she'd still be herself when it was over.

Or whether she'd want to be.