The Seduction Contract

The night felt heavier than normal.

I was at the small restaurant where I worked, wiping the last table, trying to ignore how tired my bones were. My back ached. My legs hurt. My eyes burned. It was almost midnight, but I still had dishes to wash and trash to take out before I could go home.

I told myself, Just hold on a little more, Freya. Just finish the shift.

Then my phone rang.

The screen showed Hillside General Hospital.

My heart stopped.

My hands went cold.

A shaky breath left my mouth before I even picked up.

“Hello?” My voice cracked.

“Miss Freya,” the doctor said gently, and the way she said my name already punched a hole in my chest. “It’s about your mother.”

I held the table for support. “Is she okay? Please—please tell me she’s okay.”

“She’s stable right now,” the doctor said, “but her heart condition has worsened. Faster than we expected.”

Everything around me blurred. The chairs. The lights. My own reflection in the window.

I whispered, “No… no, we were doing everything right.”

“I’m sorry. She needs another surgery,” the doctor continued. “And it must be done soon.”

My throat tightened until I could barely breathe. “How soon?”

“Within weeks.”

“Okay,” I whispered. “How much?”

There was a long pause, and I knew the answer would break me.

“The surgery and recovery will cost two million dollars, upfront.”

I pressed a hand on my chest. It felt like something inside me was tearing open.

Two million.

Upfront.

I didn’t even make enough to pay all our monthly bills.

My mouth went dry. “I… I don’t have that.”

“I know,” the doctor said softly. “I know you’ve been trying. You’ve been paying everything you can. But her condition is slipping too fast. I thought you should know.”

I sank onto a chair. My hands shook so hard I almost dropped the phone.

“She only has a few weeks before it becomes dangerous,” the doctor added. “I’m sorry, Freya.”

Dangerous.

The word stabbed through me.

I thanked her in a voice that didn’t sound like mine and ended the call.

For a moment, I just sat there in silence, staring at the dirty table, while tears slowly filled my eyes. My whole body felt weak. Empty. Like I was disappearing into the chair.

Two million dollars.

I didn’t have two hundred.

---

I forced myself to stand and walk into the staff room. I needed to breathe. I needed to think. But when I opened my locker, all I saw was the stack of bills I had been hiding there.

Rent.

Medicine.

Electricity.

Hospital balance.

Nurse fees.

Too many envelopes. Too much debt.

I felt like I was drowning in them.

When I got home, things didn’t get better.

My mother’s siblings—Uncle Francis, Aunt Rebecca, and their daughter Chloe—were sitting in the living room. They visited sometimes, but not to help. Only to remind me how alone I was.

“Where have you been?” Aunt Rebecca asked, looking me up and down like I was dirt on her shoe.

“Working,” I said quietly.

Chloe scoffed. “Of course. Still doing those useless jobs.”

I swallowed the pain. “The hospital called. Mom needs surgery—”

“Oh, again?” Uncle Francis interrupted. “That woman is just a money pit.”

My blood froze. “She’s your sister.”

“She’s your responsibility,” he said. “Not ours.”

I tried to stay calm. “The surgery is two million dollars. If we all contribute—”

Chloe burst out laughing. “Two million? Do you think we’re stupid? Even if we had that kind of money, we wouldn’t waste it.”

My vision blurred with tears. “Please… please. I can’t lose her.”

Aunt Rebecca stood up and waved her purse. “Then figure it out yourself. We’re not helping you anymore. We’ve already done enough.”

“What did you do?” I whispered.

She rolled her eyes. “We visited.”

Then they walked out, leaving the house colder and darker than before.

I stood there alone, shaking. My mother's health was failing in the hospital , unaware of how close I was to breaking.

I walked to her door and touched it gently.

“Mom,” I whispered, “I won’t let them take you away from me. I won’t.”

But I had no money.

No one to call.

No one who cared.

Except…

One person.

A name I never wanted to remember.

Mr. Grant.

The man I borrowed money from a long time ago. A man who smiled too much, too calmly, like he enjoyed watching people struggle. I had paid almost nothing of that debt back because life kept hitting harder and harder.

He would still remember me.

And he would still want something from me.

My stomach twisted as his name echoed in my mind. I didn’t want to go back to him. I didn’t want to see his face again or feel that horrible fear he created with just one look.

But my mother was dying.

Slowly, with shaking hands, I picked up my bag and keys.

I stepped outside into the cold night, trembling from fear and the weight of everything crushing me.

A taxi stopped in front of me, its headlights washing over my face.

I opened the door, climbed in, and whispered the words I hoped never to say again.

“Take me to the Blue Lantern Casino.”