Chapter 1 Desperation and Destiny

Charlotte Chesterfield walked out of the hospital with her face bent towards the ground, feeling bad that she couldn't do much to save her mother and to make things worse she had no time, whatever could be done had to be done within twenty one days. Tears were rolling down her cheeks already as she walked out of the premises she reached out for her purse and brought out a white handkerchief which she used to wipe the tears from her eyes.

Her fingers clenched the worn strap of her purse as she stumbled forward, each step heavier than the last. How was she supposed to get that kind of money? She barely made enough working double shifts at the burger shop to cover rent and groceries. Loans were out of the question-her credit was already in shambles. The thought of begging some faceless charity organisations for help crossed her mind, but she waved such thought away immediately because she knew how that would end. They would smile sadly, apologize, and tell her there were too many people in need, they really wished that they could be of help.

Charlotte swallowed the lump in her throat as a wave of helplessness crashed over her. The hospital's fluorescent lights behind her felt like the last beacon of hope, but she had already exhausted every option. If she didn't find a way to get that money, her mother wouldn't live to see another month.

Lost in thought, she didn't notice the figure approaching until she slammed into something solid no, someone solid.

"Watch where you're going!" a deep, irritated voice snapped.

She stumbled back, blinking rapidly as she looked up. Her breath hitched. Standing before her was a man who looked like he had walked straight out of a billionaire romance novel. Piercing blue eyes-so cold they could freeze fire-locked onto her. His perfectly tailored black suit and expensive watch screamed wealth, power, and danger.

It took her a moment to recognize him.

Oliver Gibson. Son of the wealthiest man in Cintria. The heir to the Gibson fortune. A man whose name graced magazine covers, whispered about in hushed tones at high-society events. He was known for his ruthlessness in business, his icy demeanor, and the string of models and heiresses who clung to him like accessories.

Charlotte's face burned with embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered, taking a shaky step back.

Oliver's gaze flickered over her, unimpressed. His lips curled slightly-not in amusement, but in disdain. "Hey young lady, try looking where you're going next time, else..." he paused as if something struck his mind. "Just be careful and stop going about bumping into every young man you see on the streets." He sighed and walked away brushing past Charlotte.

"I'm sorry sir!" She screamed as he walked away but he didn't even act like someone said something to him. "I just don't like these rich people, they sort of think that they own the world." "Can you imagine how he just spoke to me rudely and brushed past me as if I'm not a human being like him too." She said to herself but soon remembered her situation and tears welled up in her eyes.

Her legs trembled as she forced herself to move. I need a miracle, she thought bitterly. But miracles didn't exist-not for people like her. She had learned that long ago.

As she walked, she felt the weight of desperation pressing down on her like an anchor. She barely noticed when she reached her apartment, a cramped one-bedroom unit on the outskirts of the city. The paint peeled off the walls, the flickering hallway light barely illuminating the dingy carpet. She fumbled with her keys, exhaustion making her fingers clumsy. When she finally pushed the door open, the silence inside was deafening.

Her mother lay asleep on the couch, her frail body barely covered by the thin blanket. The sight made Charlotte's chest tighten. Just months ago, her mother had been full of life, working as a nurse, smiling even after the longest shifts. But cancer had stolen that from her-leaving her weak, in pain, and dependent on medication they could barely afford.

Charlotte bit her lip, forcing back tears. She couldn't break down. Not now. Her mother needed her to be strong.

She sank onto the ricketed wooden chair by the kitchen table and dropped her head into her hands. The hospital bills sat in a neat stack beside her, each envelope a reminder of her impending failure.

She flashed back to her conversation with the doctor earlier. He was a middle aged man, tall and smart. He didn't smile throughout the time she spent in his office. He was calm and calculated his words well.

She went down on her knees in front of the doctor as she said "I don't have that kind of money doctor and please I want you to help me save my mother, she's all I have."

The doctor adjusted on his seat as if trying to avoid her touch. She continued, "Okay doctor, I'll pay you installmentally until the bill is settled, please don't allow my mother to die." She cried helplessly as she crawled on the floor towards the doctor.

He stood up immediately staring at her and said "I'm really sorry I can't help you young lady, you have to do whatever it will take you to get $500K in less than three weeks or your mother will die. Please excuse me now ma'am, I have some patients to attend to."

Her mind screamed for a solution. Any solution.

Then, an idea crept into her mind, a dangerous, reckless idea. A man like Oliver Gibson had money to spare. To waste. If she could just get him to listen, maybe he could be of help...

"Ah No!" She screamed aloud, it was absurd. Why would a man like him ever help a nobody like her?

"He was very rude to me today despite my apologies, even a foolish man could have observed that all isn't fine. Did he not see the tears in my eyes or something?"

"But what choice do I have?" "Time is not on my side, and I desperately want to save my mother, I have to do this." She muttered to herself as she seemed determined to get help no matter what is at stake.

Little did she know, fate had already set its wheels in motion.