The small café was quiet that morning, sunlight spilling through the tall windows and casting warm, golden patterns across the worn wooden tables. The air smelled faintly of roasted coffee beans and pastries, the chatter of a few patrons barely registering to Mia's ears. Her mind, however, was far from peaceful. Every step she had taken to get here had been weighed down by anxiety, guilt, and a faint, unfamiliar thrill she didn't dare name.
She clutched her bag tightly, her fingers curling around the strap as if it were an anchor to reality. Her mother's face floated unbidden in her mind—the pale skin, the labored breathing, the fear in her eyes as she drifted in and out of consciousness in the hospital ward. The bills, the surgery, the overwhelming helplessness—all of it pressed down on her chest like a physical weight.
Mia's thoughts were spinning so fast that she barely noticed the sudden chime of the café door until a familiar figure strode in, confident and precise, his every movement radiating control and danger.
Dallas.
He scanned the room with the same calculated charm he always carried, and then his gaze settled on her. A slow, knowing smile curved across his lips as he made his way over, sliding into the seat across from her with casual ease, as if he owned the place.
"Mia," he said smoothly, the tone of his voice a careful balance of charm and command. "You decided to meet me."
She took a deep breath, trying to steady the rapid thrum of her heart. "I… I wanted to know exactly what you want," she said, keeping her voice measured. Her hands, though, betrayed her nerves, tapping lightly on the edge of the table.
Dallas leaned forward slightly, the sunlight catching the dark glint in his eyes. "Straight to business," he murmured, almost amused. "I like that."
Mia's pulse jumped. She had imagined countless scenarios for this meeting, but none had captured the intensity of his presence so fully. She kept her gaze fixed on him, though every instinct screamed caution.
"I need you to… retrieve something for me," he continued, his tone deceptively light, though there was a weight behind it. "A file. Confidential company information from Adam's company. That's all."
Mia froze. Her stomach tightened as her mind processed the gravity of his words. "Steal it?" she asked, disbelief edging her voice. "You want me… to take it from him without permission?"
"Exactly," Dallas said smoothly, leaning back, his smirk never leaving his face. "You get it, I get it. And in return, everything you need your mother's surgery, the money to cover it, even more than that. Two million in total. One million for the surgery itself, and the rest… for you. Consider it a reward. A cushion. A little breathing space after everything."
Mia's chest tightened. Two million. Enough to cover the surgery and provide her mother with some financial security afterward. Enough to ease the gnawing, constant anxiety she carried with her every day. But the cost was staggering. To steal… from Adam? To betray trust?
Her mind whirled with questions, doubts, and fear. She had always tried to do the right thing, to follow rules, to live honestly. But now, the life of her only remaining family rested in the balance. And for the first time in years, she felt utterly powerless.
"I… I don't know if I can do that," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She forced herself to meet his eyes, though the doubt and fear in her heart betrayed her. "I've never… done anything like this."
Dallas leaned forward, the intensity in his gaze sharpening. "No one's asking you to have done it before," he said, voice low, persuasive, magnetic. "I'm asking you to do it now. For her. For your mother. For the person you care about more than anyone in the world."
The mention of her mother's name sent a shiver through her. She had to protect her, no matter the cost. She couldn't let pride, hesitation, or fear of moral compromise get in the way. And yet… there was something else that twisted inside her a faint, confusing pull toward Dallas himself. Something she didn't understand. A mixture of fear, irritation, and an almost uncomfortable curiosity.
"I…" she began, faltering as the words caught in her throat. "If I do this… how do I know you'll hold up your end of the deal?"
Dallas smirked, tapping a few keys on his phone. Mia's phone buzzed almost immediately—a transfer alert. Her breath caught as she saw the amount: five hundred thousand. Half of the total sum he had promised.
"I don't do business without trust," he said lightly, though the glint in his eyes made it clear the statement was layered. "Half now, half when the file is delivered. Fair?"
Mia exhaled, swallowing the lump in her throat. She hadn't expected him to agree so easily, but a surge of relief rushed through her. At least half of the money could already start covering her mother's urgent needs. But even as relief settled briefly, anxiety clawed at her chest.
"And when I bring you the file…" she asked cautiously, "you'll send the rest?"
"Exactly," he said, voice smooth, measured. "Two million in total. The surgery will be covered, your mother's life secure, and the remaining million… yours. No tricks, no delays. Just deliver, and it's done."
Mia nodded slowly, still processing the dangerous offer. Her fingers clenched around the strap of her bag, the tremor in her hands betraying the whirlwind inside her. She had made a choice—a choice forced by desperation, by love for her mother, by necessity. But the thought of what she was agreeing to, of crossing a line she had never crossed before, made her stomach churn.
"I… I'll do it," she said quietly, her voice trembling despite her effort at composure. "But… I'm doing this for my mother. Not… for you."
Dallas' dark eyes lingered on her, unreadable. The smirk never left his lips, but the intensity behind his gaze was palpable, almost like a weight pressing down on her. "Of course," he said, tone smooth and deliberate. "For her… and perhaps, in a way, for you too."
Mia swallowed hard, rising from her chair. Her heart pounded, her mind racing through the consequences. Every step out of the café felt heavy, as if the weight of the deal was pressing down on her shoulders, merging with the fear and guilt that had already plagued her.
As she stepped outside, the cool morning air brushed her face, a sharp contrast to the heat of anxiety building in her chest. She took a shaky breath, trying to anchor herself. I've done this for her. Nothing else matters.
Her thoughts swirled: Should she go straight to the hospital and pay half of the fees with the money he had sent? But a small voice whispered caution. What if I change my mind? What if I can't do this?
She shook her head, refusing to let fear control her. She had to keep a clear mind. For now, she would hold onto the money, plan her next steps carefully, and make sure she could act decisively once she decided to follow through or back out if she needed to.
The café, Dallas, the money, the file everything hung in her mind like a storm cloud, heavy and ominous. And yet, beneath it all, she felt a strange, unsettling pull a dangerous mixture of fear, obligation, and an unfamiliar curiosity about him that she couldn't quite name.
With a final glance back at the door where Dallas had sat, smiling and unshaken, she turned her steps toward home. The deal had been made, but the consequences were only beginning to ripple outward, and Mia knew, with an unsettling certainty, that her life and her mother's would never be the same again.