A Different Arrangement 

I squinted at him in disbelief. "So... you expect me to believe that if, by the end of this deal, I still don't feel comfortable having sex with you, then I am free to walk away with my remaining sum and my mother's treatment intact?"

He snapped his fingers. The man standing beside him, handed him an envelope before taking his original position. Mr Kstervenchi opened it and pulled out a document. 

"It's the same contract with new conditions attached."

I scoffed. "You made that contract, Mr Kstervenchi. You can also make it disappear or break it, right?"

A smile curled at his lips as I repeated his words from days ago. "I figured you'd say that, so I decided to have a third party involved."

Yelling came from behind me. I turned towards the voice. A dirty-blond-haired, green-eyed man was dragged forward by the hood of his hoodie and shoved right in front of us. He immediately turned to his assailant.

"Fucking bastards, I swear I will report—"

"Greg?"

He stopped, then turned back to me.

"Amy?"

A large smile spread across my face. I shot to my feet and hugged him. Almost immediately, tears rolled down my face.

I wasn't even sure why I was crying. It just felt so good to see someone familiar during such a hard time.

"Oh my God, Amy." Greg wrapped an arm around me and smoothed my hair. "What did you bastards do to her? Did they touch you, Amy?"

I shook my head as more tears ran down my face. 

"Then what the hell happened?"

I didn't respond. I just kept crying while he comforted me. After a while, my wails reduced to hiccups as I eased back and wiped my face with my palms.

"What happened?" Greg asked, staring at me worriedly.

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm so happy to see you."

He eyed me in disbelief. "You're sure these bastards didn't touch you, right?"

I nodded. "Yup."

"Okay." He turned to Mr Kstervenchi and shot him a glare. "I'm assuming you're the boss here."

Mr Kstervenchi nodded.

"Why'd you bring me here?"

"Please have a seat. Both of you," Mr Kstervenchi said.

Greg squinted at him before slowly taking his seat. I did the same.

"We're seated," Greg grunted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I was made aware that you sent my link to Miss Marlowe."

Greg hummed, the tension in his muscles easing slightly. "Seriously? Is that what this is about?"

"Yes."

"Come on, man," Greg whined. "I was literally at work when your guys dragged me out."

"I apologize for that."

"With all due respect, sir, your apology means shit because I just lost my day's pay."

"How much?"

Greg frowned. "Huh?"

"How much is your day's pay?"

"Why are you asking—"

"Humor me."

Greg huffed, his brows knitted. "It's not a fixed amount so I'm not sure—"

"Give me a rough estimate."

"Hmm..." Greg scratched his chin softly. "I'd say around a hundred and fifty to two hundred dollars on a good night. Less when it's slow."

"I see..." Mr Kstervenchi trailed off before snapping his fingers again. The man beside him walked forward with a briefcase. "I'll compensate you generously."

The man opened the briefcase, and both Greg's eyes and mine widened at the neatly arranged stacks of cash inside.

"A thousand dollars, assuming tonight would have been a really good night," Mr Kstervenchi said as the man placed the money on the table and pushed it towards Greg.

"Holy shit," Greg mumbled, staring at the money in wonderment. His gaze shifted uneasily to Mr Kstervenchi. "What do you want with Amy?"

"I want her to marry me and have my child," Mr Kstervenchi deadpanned.

Damn. 

I loved a man who went straight to the point, but I had a feeling Greg didn't feel the same way.

"What?"

Mr Kstervenchi slid the contract towards him. "Your friend already agreed to a one-year contractual marriage and surrogacy, but something else came up, and it strained our... relationship."

Seriously? Relationship?

Greg glanced at me as if asking whether Mr Kstervenchi was telling the truth, and I nodded.

"Okay... so... what was this issue?"

"Miss Marlowe agreed to carry my child through medical implantation, but a disagreement arose, and as such, medical implantation wouldn't be possible. In simple terms, I asked Miss Marlowe to have sex with me. She refused."

Greg pursed his lips. "I assume you said it as casually as you say it now."

Mr Kstervenchi cleared his throat. "I did agree to pay her more—"

"Seriously, man. Amy isn't that kind of woman—"

"I've come to realize that my approach toward the matter was disrespectful and wrong." His gaze met mine. "For that, I apologize."

I lowered my gaze. "It's fine," I mumbled.

"Before we move on to why exactly I'm here, can I get a bag for this, perhaps?" Greg asked, pointing at the money.

The man from earlier stepped forward with a small bag and handed it to Greg. He placed the money inside, zipped it, then set the bag on his lap.

"Okay... let's move on." 

"I've asked for one month to make her change her mind, and as such, we need a third party from Miss Marlowe's side as a witness. Since you were the one who told her about this whole thing, I figured you should be here instead."

"I see..." Greg hummed, nodding. "How do you plan to make her change her mind, though?"

"I plan to woo her."

My cheeks burned as I cleared my throat.

"Do you think Amy will let you fuck her after everything?"

Me Kstervenchi shrugged. "I can only hope she will. The way I see it, she wouldn't lose either way unless she refuses now. If she does, she walks away with nothing. Of course, her mother's treatment will not be interfered with. But if she refuses after the one month agreement is up, she gets to walk away with the agreed-upon sum."

"Wow..." Greg turned to me. "You've hit the jackpot, Amy. You could simply refuse after one—" 

I kicked his leg, shooting him a glare.

He hissed, then rubbed the sore spot before turning back to Mr Kstervenchi. 

"You'd have to do a whole lot to get Amy to fuck you. My experience—"

"Can we—" I paused. "Can we not talk about who I've fucked or will fuck, please." I stared at Mr Kstervenchi. "You only need his signature, right?"

"Yes." He leafed through the document before sliding it towards Greg along with a pen. Then he pointed to a page. "Here."

"Do I need to... go through this?" 

"Take your time."

********

"Seriously, Greg. I don't think I can do it," I whispered. 

We were standing at one end of the room, discussing the arrangement.

"Did you hear the part where he said you get to walk away—"

"I cannot do that, Greg. That is just... horrible."

"It'll be much worse if you end up pity-fucking him, you know? And stupid if you don't take his offer."

"I am not doing any. Simple."

Greg went silent. "It wouldn't hurt to give him a chance, though. He seems pretty desperate."

"That is why I keep asking myself: why me? Why can't he just go for someone else?"

Greg shrugged. "Who knows. Just give the man a chance and see if it works. If it doesn't, you move on rich as fuck. Personally, I wouldn't mind fucking him—"

"Can we not do this right now?"

He chuckled. "What? He's hot as hell."

"He's thirty-seven," I hissed, lowering my voice. "He's too old. Besides..." I swallowed. 

"He's a total stranger. If I don't carry after the first sex, I'll continue—" I couldn't finish the sentence.

Greg laughed, and I found myself smiling too. "Come on, Amy. You have nothing to lose. Do it or walk away. You need that money. Stop worrying so much about everyone else's feelings."

I stared at Mr Kstervenchi across the room as he conversed with his men.

I didn't want to do this. But then again, I couldn't deny how much I needed the money.

Mum's treatment was expensive, and even if I managed to keep up with the bills, what would happen afterwards? We would still be stuck in the same situation, struggling to get by.

I was a hundred percent sure that I wasn't going to do it. That's why pretending to give him a chance was so hard when I already knew I'd end up walking away. But Greg was right. I needed that money. 

Once Mum's treatment was done, we could travel to another country and start a new life. I'd probably open a business, maybe a restaurant or a frozen food store.

"You're right." 

Greg smirked. "Atta girl."

I walked back over, and Mr Kstervenchi's gaze shifted to me. "I take it you've agreed."

I nodded.

He slid the document and a pen toward me. I leafed through the pages, not to read them, but to give myself one last chance to back out.

Finally, I signed it.