She sold her freedom to save her son
"Auri, where are you? It's Adrian. He—he collapsed!"
"Collapsed?—what—where—where are you?"
"Mercy General! I called an ambulance—please hurry!"
I ended the call. Panic was a cold, pure adrenaline shot. My last remaining cash got me into a taxi.
By the time we skidded into the hospital lot, my legs shook, my chest was tight, and my fingers were numb from cold and fear. I didn't wait for the driver to finish counting change. I threw it at him, bolted through the sliding doors, and nearly collided with Jason.
"Auri!" he shouted, panic twisting his handsome features. "He's in critical condition! They haven't started treatment—they need a down payment!"
My knees nearly gave out. "How much?" I croaked, voice raw, wet with tears I didn't even notice forming.
Jason shook his head, running his hands through his messy blonde hair. "I—I don't know! I—" He was useless. Completely useless. My heart sank deeper than the puddles outside.
Jason gripped my arms, eyes wild. "Auri, I tried— they said no treatment without money."
His voice cracked, and for one ugly second I hated him for sounding like I did — powerless.
A nurse, sharp-eyed and efficient, intercepted us. "You must be Aurielle Duval? Your son is in ICU. The doctor will see you, but the deposit is required before any procedure can start."
My stomach plummeted. "I… I don't have—my salary… it's not due yet."
Her expression softened fractionally, professional but firm. "I'm sorry, ma'am. We can't risk starting surgery without assurance of payment. He's… he's in critical condition."
"Critical?" My voice cracked. "What's wrong with him? Please, tell me—what's happening to my baby?"
A tall doctor, stepped forward. His eyes were sharp, but there was a flicker of sympathy. "
No!" I shook my head, my denial automatic. "That's not possible! He's strong!"
"Sometimes it doesn't show immediately . It's genetic. We need medical history from the father's side. Is he available?"
The word "father" was a razor blade. History? From a man who didn't even know his son existed?
The doctor didn't wait for my silence to resolve. He looked down at his clipboard, his tone hardening with institutional policy."We need to begin advanced treatment immediately. However, hospital regulations require a substantial deposit before we can start the surgery."
Deposit.
I walked to the observation window. Through the glass, my tiny boy lay tangled in wires and monitors.
I placed my palm against the cold pane."Mommy's here, baby," I whispered, tears finally escaping.
But I wasn't enough. My son needed a miracle that cost money I didn't have.
I had already tried my old boss—he refused. Government loans? Too slow, too many papers. Weeks would pass before they could even approve a dime. And Adrien didn't have weeks.
There was only one option left. One man who could make this happen now.
Kieran D'Angelo.
Pride screamed at me to walk away, to refuse him again. Shame scorched my skin. But Adrien's tiny chest rose and fell beneath the tangle of wires, and the beep of the monitors didn't care about my pride. He needed me.
I had no choice.
"I'll be right back," I told Jason, barely glancing at him. "Keep your eyes on Adrian."
Before he could protest, I was gone, running.
The drizzle soaked through my thin dress, plastering it to my skin. My shoes slapped wet pavement as I pushed forward, ignoring every ache in my legs, every shiver from the cold rain. I didn't have money for a taxi, and I didn't care. Adrien's life didn't wait.
The city blurred around me. Every turn, every streetlight, every horn from passing cars was a countdown. Until finally… Kieran's mansion.
The gates loomed like a fortress. My chest heaved, my soaked hair clinging to my face. The guards at the gate stiffened as I approached. I already assumed they knew me—they had seen me before as his personal assistant.
One stepped forward, studied me for a long beat, then disappeared inside. He returned moments later. "Go inside," he said flatly.
I didn't hesitate. The elevator doors slid open. I stepped inside, heart hammering, and pressed the button for the top floor.
When the doors opened, I froze. His broad back faced me, framed perfectly in the dim light of the penthouse hallway.
"So… you came back. And here I thought you'd forgotten your place."
Then he turned.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Like a man who already knew I'd come.
His gaze met mine, dark and unreadable, and in that silence—something cracked in my chest.
"I control the hospital your son is in," he said simply, his tone calm, almost casual.
My breath hitched. "What… what do you mean you control it? H…how did you even—"
"Your son's surgery will begin in an hour," he continued, stepping closer. "But nothing in this world is free, Aurielle. Not even mercy."
He reached into his suit pocket and unfolded a single sheet of paper. "I don't do donations, Aurielle. I do transactions." He took a step closer, his cologne sharp, intoxicating. "Sign this contract. Be my wife for 365 days."
I blinked, my lips trembling. "A… a contract?"
"You'll get one million dollars every month, starting tonight."
My heart stuttered. "W-what? This… this is blackmail."
He tilted his head slightly, that dark smile ghosting his lips. "No," he murmured, brushing a strand of wet hair from my cheek, "It's power. You're too easy to control. Because you'll hate me for it… and I find that amusing."
My pulse roared in my ears. I didn't care about his money. I never did. But Adrien was fighting for his life. My pride, my anger, my hatred—none of it mattered now.
I took the pen. If saving him meant destroying myself, then I'd do it.
For a second, the world was silent—just my ragged breathing and the hum of the elevator still open behind me.
Then he gestured toward the wide expanse of glass and marble.
"Welcome to your new cage, Mrs. D'Angelo."
I froze as he stepped behind me, his hand sliding to my waist, firm, possessive.
My back met his chest—his warmth against my cold, soaked skin—and I couldn't move.
"First lesson," he whispered, his voice low and rough against my skin.
"Learn to obey."