Chapter 2: Price of Survival

Lyra POV

After some moments, I arrived at the restaurant. But something felt off. The staff avoided my eyes. The air was tense. I walked straight into the office as Mr. Johnson was waiting at the desk, arms crossed. 

"Finally," he said as soon as I stepped inside. "You're fired."

The words hit harder than anything I couldn't imagine.

"What?"

"You heard me," he said softly. "You're no longer needed here."

My chest tightened out of shock. "What did I do?"

He scoffed. "Don't act innocent. Do you know who you offended last night?" He asked.

My mind raced as I remembered what had happened last night.

"The VIP customer. The arrogant man who grabbed my waist. The one I had pulled away from."

"I didn't do anything wrong," I said firmly.

"You embarrassed him," Mr. Johnson snapped.

"And now I am paying for the price of your attitude."

"So you are firing me because I refused to let a customer touch me?" I asked while looking at him in disbelief.

"I'm firing you because you are replaceable." The words sliced through me. And at that moment, I felt everything was gone. The job. My relationship and soon my mother."

I let out a slow breath.

"Fine," I said quietly. "I understand." 

Because at that moment, what could I say? He had already made his decision. I turned to leave, adjusting the black bag I carried with me in my arm. But just as I reached the door, a voice from nowhere called out to me.

"Miss Cole." 

I froze.

I heard the voice calling my name from behind. The voice seemed deep, cold, and a bit familiar. Slowly, I turned around. And there he was. The man from last night. He was standing in the center of the restaurant like he owned the world. 

He was tall, imposing, and dressed in a tailored suit that made him look untouchable. His dark eyes locked onto mine as he scanned me with an intensity that made my knees weak.

Mr. Johnson straightened immediately. 

"Sir, I didn't expect you to come personally. You..." And before Mr. Johnson could speak, the man commanded with a calm tone. 

"Leave us."

It wasn't a request. My boss hesitated for half a second before quickly disappearing. And just like that. It was only the two of us. The atmosphere in the restaurant felt silent, heavy, and dangerous. Within a blink, he shook a step and walked toward me. And each step that he took felt like a warning.

"You cost me something last night," he said, his voice low and controlled. 

Despite the flammable aura and cliché, I lifted my chin. Slightly, I refused to back down even though I could feel the fear creeping in.

"And you tried to touch me without my permission," I replied with a bold face.

A flicker of something passed through his eyes. It showed interest, amusement, and danger, but then he smiled, and his expression was like a man who had just found something interesting.

"Good," he said softly. 

My brows furrowed. "Good," I responded.

"Yes." He stopped right in front of me, his presence overwhelming. He was only two steps' distance from me. "Because I don't like weak women."

My heart pounded.

"What do you want?" I asked, as I tried to read his mind, but it was impossible. 

His gaze didn't leave mine.

"I heard your conversation," he said. 

My blood ran cold.

"What?" I asked.

"Forty thousand," he continued calmly. "That's how much you need, isn't it?" 

My heart skipped for a moment. How on earth did he know about my present or even what I am going through at the moment? I became a bit puzzled; my breath hitched. Or has he been spying on me, a complete stranger? I thought to myself.

"How do you...?"

"I can give it to you." He cuts in, not allowing me to question him.

"And why the hell would I collect money from a total stranger?" The world stilled as my hope flickered and then died just as quickly because nothing in life came for free.

"And what do you want in return?" I asked carefully.

He smiled deeply with a mysterious grin on his face.

"Marry me." He said

My heart stopped.

"...What?" 

"You heard me," he said, his voice turning colder. "A contract marriage. You become my wife, and I pay for your mother's treatment."

I paused, my pulse roaring in my ears.

"This is insane. Completely insane. Do I look like a product that can be bought from the mall? Why me?" I asked.

For a moment, he didn't answer. Then unexpectedly, he leaned closer. Close enough that his voice brushed against my skin. I could feel his scent; it was so irresistible to deny.

"Because," he said quietly, "you are perfect for what I have planned."

A chill ran down my spine. There was something different about the way he said it. It wasn't just business. It was something darker. More dangerous. I swallowed hard.

"Well," he rubbed his chin. "You can go back to the hospital and watch your mother die."

The words hit like a gunshot.

"Watch your tongue," I shouted back at him. 

I became furious, my hands clenched at my sides. 

Silence filled the space between us.

This wasn't a choice but a trap. I didn't know who he was or what he wanted, but one thing was clear to me: that the moment I said yes, I could save my mom's life, and nothing in my life would ever be the same.

He snapped his finger once, and then instantly, a man in a black suit came straight walking towards us, holding a briefcase. He signaled the man in the black suit, and before I could think twice, the briefcase was opened, as it contained a lot of cash.

"Accept it," he said. "And you agree to my terms." 

I stared, my mind racing, my heart pounding. I became stuck in my own deck. And then I whispered to myself, what am I getting myself into?