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The Billionaire's Hidden Price
The Billionaire's Hidden Price
Author: Benjamin Fletcher

Chapter 1: Unfortunate Condition

last update publish date: 2026-03-30 20:46:24

Lyra’s POV 

The fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway made everything feel unreal, like I was trapped in a box that was shaking and I couldn't escape. My mother lay inside the ICU room, weak, pale, and trembling on the hospital bed. I could see the seconds that I couldn't afford to waste.

"Lyra Cole?"

I heard my name being called as I snapped my head toward the voice. Doctor Roland, the senior doctor. Stepped toward me, his expression calm but grim. The kind of expression that always shows something was terribly wrong.

"How is she?" I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. My hands were trembling, and at the same time I could hear how fast my heart beats, but I clenched them into fists to keep myself composed.

Dr. Roland sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "Lyra," he paused for some moment before he continued. "Her condition has deteriorated overnight. The infection has spread, and her organs are beginning to fail. She needs to undergo an intensive surgery immediately."

"Intensive surgery, what do you mean?" I asked; my voice was quiet. "She was fine yesterday; you said she was stable." 

"Yes, she was, but overnight the infection has spread through her body," he replied.

The doctor's voice sounded distant, like he was speaking from the end of a long tunnel. I stared at him, trying to understand his words, but my mind refused to accept them.

He avoided my eyes as he put his glasses back on. "The hospital can provide it, but there is a deposit. "Forty thousand."

My chest tightened, and my stomach dropped. Forty thousand. Forty thousand dollars or pounds, or whatever currency he meant, was enough to crush me completely.

I didn't have that kind of amount. I didn't even know anyone who could give me that kind of money on short notice. 

"I can't pay that," I whispered.

I had been strong my whole life. But I'm standing there now, outside my mother's hospital room. I had never felt weaker. I felt so devastated, like the world is falling on me. A burning sensation that I could feel within me.

"You need to find a way, Lyra," he said quietly. And I could sense the pity in his voice. "Every minute counts." 

I startled backwards, my hands trembling as I tried to keep them steady. If I didn't save her, it would be my fault, and I wasn't going to let that happen. I didn't cry; I couldn't cry. I screamed with my hands over my mouth. Crying wouldn't give me forty thousand more to save my mother. I needed money. 

Suddenly, a thought ran through my mind. My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone. There was only one person I could call. My boyfriend, Steve. The one who had promised me everything. The one who says, "I'd never let you face anything alone; I'd always be your backbone." 

I dialed his number. It rang and rang, but there was no response. A small frown crossed my forehead. 

"That was strange," I thought to myself. 

Feeling a bit restless, I felt a bad feeling settling in my chest, heavy and suffocating.

"Pick up Steve," I muttered under my breath.

And when he didn't, I made up my mind that I wasn't going to wait. I would go meet him. 

The ride to his apartment felt longer than expected. Every second that passed felt like a countdown I couldn't stop.

By the time I got to his apartment, I stood in front of his door; my heart was racing, but not just from the rush but from something deeper. I knocked on the door expecting to see him open up at the slightest instance, but surprisingly, there was no response.

Without hesitating for a second, I pushed open the door.

"Steve." The word died in my head. Because there he was, not alone. The scene before me burned into my heart: Steve, wrapped in the sheets with another woman. Naked, smiling, and laughing. 

I froze.

As I began to think, it was a dream or, bitterly, a reality. My body wanted to scream, to run, to collapse. But my mind felt sharp and angry as it stood firm in control.

"This," Steve started, climbing off the bed in a panic. "This is not what it looks like."

I let out a soft laugh. "Really? " I said, my voice calm but raging. "Then what does it look like, Steve?" 

He ran a hand through his hair. "Babe, please hear me out. I didn't mean anything, I swear. It was just..."

"Stop." I shouted at him before he could complete his words. He froze.

I took a step forward. "My mother is dying," I said quietly.

The words felt heavy as I told him right to his face. For a second, he didn't react. 

Then the next moment, he moved away from the woman next to him and came close to me.

He laughed. "So do you think I would plead with you to stay in this relationship like you are some empire queen?" Hey! Listen to me carefully." He shouted at me so loud that I blinked more than I should. My heart dropped and tears rolled from my eyes. I felt so bitter within me.

He continued. "Do not ever in your life raise your voice at me, and also, I do not care about your princess; do you understand?" His voice, sharp, cut through me.

"I hate you!" I told him. 

The slut lying in the bed stared at me with a smile on her face.

"You look disgusting," I say to her.

Suddenly Steve hits my face. 

"Don't you dare insult her. She's more of a good level than you are. You spend all your time working like you're the owner of a luxurious company, but she satisfies me more than you ever did."

"Did you hit my face because of her?" I asked, feeling so hurt and embarrassed.

My life couldn't be worse than the pain I was feeling at that moment.

I didn't waste any more minutes, I turned and walked out, my heart breaking in a way I didn't think was possible. The person I trusted most had betrayed me.

I was already outside, the heat of the sun scorching through my skin but it did nothing to warm the cold spreading through me. By the time I could take a step, my phone rang. I checked my phone, and as soon as I saw who the caller was, Mr. Johnson, my boss. The restaurant owner of where I work.

"Lyra, where are you?" His voice was sharp and impatient. As I was about to respond back to him, he cut in.

I barely had time to register his words before the line went dead. I stared at my phone. For a moment, I considered ignoring him but I couldn't afford to lose my job, not when everything was already falling apart.

"I don't care where you are, get to the restaurant. Now." 

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