A single mistake

My name is David Lura. I am a tall and beautiful lady with long grey hair and sharp blue eyes. Presently, my life is a delicate balancing act, always on the edge of collapse.

Recently, I had just been fired by from my old job where I worked as a personal assistant to my billionaire boss. Not long. Now, I had found a new job at a bar where I worked as a waitress. I have to work triple shifts to settle the endless pile of bills waiting for me every morning.

My younger sister Catherine had been in a coma for about two years, and the heavy weight of medical her bills rested squarely on my tiny shoulders. That was the hard and unbearable reality I woke up to see every morning for at least the past five years, ever since my parents died.

I lived in a cramped apartment here in Queens, one of the most crowded street in New York. The room was barely big enough for me.

My life was never balanced under the weight of grief that overwhelmed me whenever I thought of my parents, who I lost in a terrible car accident. That tribble accident initially take away the life of my parents and turned everything upside down for I and Catherine. Life had been chaos ever since then.

My parents left behind a huge amount of debt and heartbreak that I could never recover. I had no option or any no choice but to bear it all alone.

Every morning was never different. It’s always the same for me since their death and since the indefinite suspension from my job as a personal assistant.

I have worked a double shift at the diner and later resumed work at the coffee shop downtown, making it a triple shift a day. The CEO of the coffee shop always accused me of every spilled drop of coffee, which most of the time meant a bad review or a lost tip. But I’m use to Apologies which couldn’t solve anything.

The clock ticked relentlessly. Time was not on my side anymore. I had to quickly return to the coffee shop because I was already late, and the crowded streets of New York City showed no mercy. Not even a free ride someone could offer me.

“A better life, God, I pray,” I whispered gently to myself. In a short, a quickly fading reminder of the life I once dreamed of. But now, Reality had dragged me far away from it.

The sharp chill of early spring cut through my soft jacket as I pushed through the crowded street. Loud conversations filled the air, steam hissed from machines, people bumped into one another unconsciously, the smell of roasted chicken air hung heavily, and the street buzzed with sellers shouting and buyers bargaining.

Still, I could only focus on my thoughts, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on my shoulders. The task I needed to complete.

At the coffee shop, Balancing a black cup of coffee and a stack of receipts, I moved very carefully and quickly through the narrow aisle, my eyes glued to the floor, being vigilant to the people bustling around me.

Then, in one hasty and careless second, fate intervened.

Suddenly, a voice thick came from behind me.

“Hey! Watch it!, Watch!”.

The voice was very sharp and thick, cutting through the moment.

Immediately My heart jumped. quickly I glanced up and saw a tall man standing just an inches away from me. His expensive welled tailored suit was stained with the dark coffee, my coffee. His eyes were wide open with surprise, cold and stormy, as he stared at me like I didn’t belong to the world.

“Oh, oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I kindly stammered, my cheeks burning red. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to harm you sir.”

A sudden silence settled around us. Eyes glanced closely. The man said nothing at first, staring straight into my eyes, his jaw tight, his lips pressed into a thin line. He took a slow, deliberate breath before finally speaking in a low, controlled voice.

“Hey lady, This suit costs more than your wages for probably two months,” he said, a warning threading through his tone.

I lowered my gaze, wanting to apologize again, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I bit my lip unconsciously, fighting back tears of frustration and shame. This wasn’t just a moment of coffee on a suit only, it was a reminder of how far apart our lives were, like two different universes far to each other.

“I can pay for it,” I said again, louder this time. “I can pay for it.”

Even though I knew every dollar I owned wouldn’t be enough. And my wages wouldn’t be enough to pay for it.

His eyes narrowed, one hand slipping into his pocket. Then someone called him from behind.

“Hello Xavier Blackwood!”

He turned back and waved briefly.

Immediately My mind froze.

Xavier Blackwood?

The name was a popular, legendary whispered with power and money. A ruthless billionaire known for his icy demeanor and iron grip on his family empire.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my trembling hands. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The clash was too shocking and surprising.

He raised his voice, but still controlled. “now Listen carefully. I’m giving you a choice.”

He pulled out a business card from his pocket and slid it straightly across the counter. It felt cold. Heavy.

“Marry me. Sign a contract. Fourteen months. You’ll be entitled to three million dollars. No feelings. No attachment. Power and total control only.”

What! I blinked at the card again and again, as though it were some dead joke which can never come Alive.

“What?” My voice cracked severally. “Are you serious?”

I laughed bitterly, disbelief choking me.

Surprisingly he stepped back, wonder flickering across his face at the sound of my laughter. It just wasn’t loud, it was also bitter like an old man who had suffered too long.

“Deadly serious,” he replied.

Then, without waiting for my answer, immediately he turned sharply and strode out of the café.

I stood frozen and speechless, unconsciously the coffee cup trembling in my hand as I stared at the business card like it was my fate.

Marry him?
For money?
Was I really that desperate to that extent?

A broken voice inside me whispered, Yes.

My life was about to change in ways I could never imagine.