The Billionaire's, Contract Bride

Seraphina's Point Of View

My hands tremble as I pour the coffee. It is well after midnight at Tony's Diner, and I am alone on duty. The grease and stale coffee dominate the atmosphere like a damp blanket.

"Come on, Sera," I say aloud. "Three hours till dawn."

My feet ache so terribly that I'm about to cry. I sat at the office until eleven tonight, and then here I came straight away. Tomorrow I'm grocery delivering all day long. Three jobs to make enough for Mom's medicine, and it's still not enough.

The doorbell rings. I glance up and stiffen. A man enters dressed in a suit worth more than I've earned in six months. His dark hair is immaculately styled, even for the rain outside. His gray eyes sweep the diner as if he's never seen anything like it.

Rich people don't go to Tony's Diner. Not in your life. Least of all at midnight.

"Sit wherever you'd like," I shout, grabbing the coffee pot. I sound exhausted even to myself. "Menu's on the table."

He's sitting at a window booth. I come over on shaking legs. This guy appears to be some kind of big shot, and I'm not going to mess up. Tony will get me fired if I get on the wrong side of a customer who could actually leave a decent tip.

"What can I get you?" I say, pulling out my little notebook.

He peers up at me. His storm cloud-tinted eyes twist my stomach. "Just coffee. Black."

"Coming right up."

I start to head back towards the coffee pot. That is when things unravel. My sleep-deprived legs get knotted. I stumble forward. The coffee pot flails out of my hands like a bird in flight.

Hot coffee pours everywhere. All over the man's crisp white shirt. All over his designer jacket coat. All over the table.

"Oh no!" I cry. "Oh no, oh no, oh no!"

He leaps up, coffee dripping from his coat. I grab napkins and begin frantically trying to blot his shirt. My hands are shaking so badly the napkins drop on the floor.

"Oh no!" My eyes begin to well up with tears. "Don't tell Tony about this. I really need this job. My mom is ill and I can't afford to lose my job."

The man doesn't move much at all. He doesn't shout at me as I thought he would. He just stares at me through those gray eyes in amazement.

"It's alright," he says quietly. His voice is deep and soothing. "It's just a shirt."

"No, it's not a shirt!" I'm sobbing more and more. "That suit is worth more than money I'll make my entire life. I'll pay for it. I swear I'll pay for it."

He pulls out his coat pocket. I think he's going to call the police or perhaps Tony. But all he does is produce a white handkerchief and give it to me.

"Stop crying," he tells me, but not in a nasty way. "What's your name?"

I'm blotting my face on his handkerchief. It feels so soft. "Seraphina Wells. But everybody calls me Sera."

"Sera." He speaks my name as though he wants to hear the way it sounds. "How long have you worked here?"

"Two years." I sniffle and attempt to stop shaking. "Look, I know I soiled your clothes. Just tell me how much I owe you."

He goes back to the sodden booth. Coffee still drips off the table onto the floor. "Sera, get me a fresh cup of coffee. This time, use a clean cup."

I look at him. "You're not going?"

"No." He grabs a napkin and wipes coffee off his watch. "I'm staying for coffee."

My head can't get it. Rich people don't stick around when you spill coffee on them. They scream and call for a manager and promise to sue you.

"But your suit."

"Will be dry cleaned tomorrow." He glares at me again. "Coffee, please."

I rush to bring him a new cup. My hands do shake, but I don't spill it. When I put it down in front of him, he curls his fingers around the cup like he is trying to heat them up.

"Sit down," he commands.

"I'm not allowed to sit with customers. Tony has rules."

"Tony is nowhere to be found." He waves his hand toward the vacant diner. "Sit down, Sera."

I get into the booth opposite him. The aroma of coffee is overwhelming now, combined with his perfume. He smells expensive, like leather and something clean I couldn't identify.

"You work three jobs?" he asks.

I nod. "How did you guess?"

"You mentioned working somewhere else at first before coming here tonight. And you said you delivered groceries." He lifts his coffee cup to his mouth. "That's a lot of work for someone as young as you."

"I'm twenty-four. Not that young."

"I'm thirty. Trust me, you're young." He stares at my face. "Three jobs, why?"

I don't want to explain to him about Mom's kidney failure. About the bills stacked on our kitchen table. About how scared I am every day.

"Life is expensive," I reply instead.

He takes a sip of coffee again. We sat there in silence for a minute. Outside, rain beats against the window like tiny fingers drumming.

"What if I told you that there was an answer to all your financial woes?" he bursts out saying.

My heart takes flight. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what if I had enough money to give you so you'd never have to work three jobs anymore? What if you could afford to pay for whatever you have to pay for?"

I laugh, but it isn't a pleasant sound. "Mister, I don't know what type of girl you are trying to make out I am, but I am not that type of girl."

"I'm not thinking about that." His face reddens slightly. "I'm talking about a business arrangement."

"What type of business arrangement?"

He takes a step closer. His intent, somewhat desperate gray eyes lock onto me. "The kind where you assist me, and I assist you. The kind where we both gain what we require."

I am twisted up inside with fear and something that could possibly be hope. "I don't get it."

He reaches into his jacket once more. He pulls out a pen this time. He writes on a napkin and slides it across the greasy table.

I glance at the napkin. There's a number on there. A huge number. So huge I count the zeroes three times to ensure I'm reading it correctly.

"Two million dollars," he says softly.

The words hit me like ice water. "What?"

"Two million dollars, Sera. That's what I'm giving you."

I'm having trouble breathing. Two million dollars is more money than there is in the entire world. At least, in my world.

"For what?" My voice is barely a whisper.

He stares into my eyes. When he speaks, his voice is so low I need to step closer to be able to hear him.

"For a year of your life. One year, and all your troubles are over forever."

The rain continues to pound against the window. The coffee grows warm in our cups. And I find myself enjoying my entire life just being altered due to spilling coffee on someone else's shirt.

Adrian's Point of View

The girl looks at me like I just informed her the moon dropped from the heavens. Her brown eyes are hopeful and fearful all at once. Two million dollars lies between us on a coffee-stained napkin.

"One year of my life?" Seraphina gasps. "What does that mean?"

I should tell her everything now. Inform her about the marriage contract and my grandfather's insane will. Something holds me back, though. Perhaps it is the manner in which she is gazing at me as if I am her last hope.

"I'll tell you later," I say instead. "First, I want to know if you're interested."

She takes up the napkin with trembling hands. "Is this real money? Not counterfeit?"

"Very real." I take out my phone and show her my bank account. The figures make her gasp. "I can have fifty thousand dollars in your account tonight as a good faith payment."

Her face pales. "Fifty thousand? Just like that?"

"Just like that." I study her closely. "But first, I need you to be honest with me about one thing. Are you married? Dating anyone seriously?"

She shakes her head quickly. "No. No boyfriend. No time for dating when you work all the time."

Great. That's what I was hoping to hear. Now I just need to determine if she can handle what I'm going to ask her to do.

"Good." I drain my coffee and rise. "I'll be in touch tomorrow with details."

"Wait!" She gets up as well. "You can't just offer me two million dollars and leave!"

"I can and I am." I leave a hundred dollar bill on the table. "For the coffee and the dry cleaning."

She looks at the money. "This is too much."

"Keep it." I walk towards the door. "You'll be hearing from me soon, Seraphina Wells."

Rain splashes on my face as I make my way to my car. My shirt is still wet with coffee, but I don't mind. I may have just stumbled upon the solution to my largest issue.

My phone rings while I drive down the deserted streets. Marcus's name appears on the screen. My half-brother does not call this late at night unless he needs something.

"Adrian," Marcus says when I pick up. "Working late again?"

"Something like that." I do not know Marcus well enough to tell him where I actually was. "What do you want?"

"Can't a brother just call to talk?"

"Not when that brother is you." I pull into the parking garage beneath my building. "Make your point."

Marcus laughs, but it is not a friendly sound. "Okay. I was just curious about how the wife hunt is progressing. Only twenty-nine days to go now."

My hand tightens on the steering wheel. "I'm taking care of it."

"Are you? Because what I've heard, you haven't even been out on one date since the reading of Grandfather's will."

He's right, and we both know it. I've been so busy with work that I hadn't even thought about the idiot marriage stipulation until last week. Now I'm starting to run out of time.

"My personal life is none of your business," I say to him.

"It is my business, in fact. If you don't marry, I get everything. Kane Industries, the penthouse, all of it." His tone becomes cold. "I'm calling to say thank you in advance."

I hang up on him before he can realize that I don't want to say goodbye. Marcus has waited a lifetime for me to screw up. He is not going to get his opportunity.

I take the elevator to my penthouse apartment on the top floor. The city lies before me through the giant windows. This is home. This is life. My grandfather started this company from scratch, and I have furthered it.

I'm not losing it to Marcus.

My granddad's letter still remains on my desk where I had left it this morning. I read it once again, even though I have every word memorized.

Adrian, my boy. By the time you read this, I'll be gone. Kane Industries needs a leader who knows what's most important in life. Family. Love. Connection to other human beings. You're a good businessman, but you've forgotten how to be human.. I'm giving you thirty days to find a wife and be married. Not a fake marriage, but a real one. Otherwise, it all goes to Marcus. Maybe he will have better luck than the two of us. Sincerely, Grandfather.*

True marriage. That's the aspect that has been keeping me up at night. How do you discover real love in thirty days? How do you trust another person enough to marry them when you've never trusted anyone in your entire life?

But then I remember Seraphina spilling coffee on my shirt. How she cried and apologized like the world was ending. How she told me she needed her job because her mother was sick.

A real marriage may be out of the question. But a marriage that appears to be real? That I can do.

I take my phone and dial my lawyer.

"Richard, it's Adrian Kane. I need you to draw up a contract."

"Adrian, do you know what time it is?"

"Late. Early. I don't care. This is important."

Richard sighs. "What sort of contract?"

"A marriage contract. One year term. Two million dollar payment. Total confidentiality."

"Adrian, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to save my company." I move to the window and glance down at the deserted streets. "How soon can you have it ready?"

"Give me twenty-four hours."

"Twelve hours."

"Adrian-"

"Twelve hours, Richard. My future is riding on it."

I hang up and pour myself a drink. The whiskey burns on the way down, but it doesn't do anything to warm me up.

Tomorrow I'll return to that diner. I'll make Seraphina Wells an offer she can't refuse. She needs money, and I need a wife. It's perfect.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

My phone vibrates with a text message. Unknown number.

I cannot stop thinking about your offer. Is this reality? Can you help me? - Sera

I look at the message for a second. She provided her number without being asked. She's considering the money, so she's desperate enough to be willing to do anything that it is I'm going to ask her to do.

I respond: Very real. Meet me tomorrow night, same place, same time. Come alone.

She responds right away: Okay. But I have to know what you require of me.

Tomorrow, I text. Tomorrow you'll have all your answers.

I put the phone down and finished my drink. In twelve hours, I'll have a contract. In twenty-four hours, I'll have a wife. And in thirty days, I'll still have everything my grandfather tried to take from me.

But as I'm preparing for bed, one thing continues to nag at me. Seraphina's face as she stared at that napkin. The hope in her eyes as she asked whether the figures were real.

She's going to save everything I've built. The question is, what am I going to do to her life in the process?

My reflection stares back at me from the mirror in the bathroom. For the first time in years, I don't recognize the man looking back.

"It's just business," I say to myself. "Just business."

But I don't believe it anymore.

Seraphina's Point of View

I don't feel like eating all day. My stomach is a tornado of furious butterflies. As soon as I think about tonight, my hands shake again.

"Sera, are you okay?" Tony asks mid-lunch rush. "You've already dropped three plates."

"Sorry, Tony. I'm just exhausted."

But I am not fatigued. I am frightened and excited and confused simultaneously. Someone in a very pricey-looking suit is offering me two million dollars. Things such as these cannot happen to women such as I.

I woke up the entire day questioning whether I dreamed everything. Perhaps I dozed off at the workplace and experienced the coffee spill and money and gray eyes in my dream. Perhaps all these did not exist.

Then I glance at my phone and spot his text message again. Meet me tomorrow night, same place, same time. Come alone.

It's real. He's real. And tonight I'm going to find out what he requires from me.

The diner is nearly deserted when he arrives at midnight. He's dressed in another pricey suit, one blue. His hair is fabulous again, as if he just emerged from a high-stakes destination.

"Hi," I say as he takes the same booth as yesterday. My voice is strange and squeaky.

"Hello, Seraphina." He glares at me. "You came."

"You knew I would."

"I hoped you would." He pulls out a huge folder from his briefcase. "Coffee first, then we talk."

I take him black coffee with hands that barely shake. He does not spill this time, which is great by me because I would really die of humiliation if I ruin another suit.

"Sit," he says, just like yesterday.

I step into the booth on his other side. The folder lies between us like a slumbering animal.

"Your name?" I spit out. "I gave you mine, but you never said yours."

"Adrian Kane."

The name rings a bell, but I don't know where I've heard it. "Kane likes the giant corporation?"

"That's my family business. I'm taking it over now."

My jaw drops. Kane Industries has locations throughout the city. Half of the building projects in Manhattan bear their logo plastered across them. The guy isn't merely wealthy. He's crazy wealthy.

"Why are you here?" I managed to get out. "Why are you speaking with me?"

"Because I need your assistance." Adrian takes out the folder. "And you needed a financial assistance."

There are documents inside the folder with minute writing. Official documents that appear serious and legal. At the top of the first document are words that stop my blood.

Marriage Contract Agreement

"Marriage?" I hardly say it. "You want me to marry you?"

"For one year." Adrian's tone is matter-of-fact, as if he's discussing the weather. "It would be a business arrangement. Nothing else."

I look at him. "You're crazy."

"Maybe." He doesn't exactly smile. "But I am desperate, too."

"Why? Why do you need to get married?"

Adrian is by the window and looking out at the rain. "My grandfather left me his business in his will. But with conditions. I have to be married within thirty days, or it goes to my half-brother."

"That's crazy."

"Yes, it is." He returns to stand before me.

I browse through the pages. So many new words. But I noticed the number two million repeated repeatedly.

"Is this real? All this?"

"Very real." Adrian takes out his phone and displays something on the screen. "I made my lawyer work all night to get this together."

"Does your lawyer know about it?"

"He thinks I've lost it. He might be right."

I read the first page again. The words whirl around like they're desperate to get away. "What would I have to do?"

"Live with me in my penthouse. Accompany me to business functions. Pretend to be married and in love with me when other people are present." Adrian ticks off on his fingers. "That's it."

"That's it? Pretending?"

"Just pretending." His eyes darken all at once. "I know this sounds insane, Seraphina. But I'm running out of time."

I think of Mom in that hospital bed. Of bills mounting up on our kitchen counter. Of working three jobs and still short enough to save her life.

"What about when the year is up?"

"We get divorced quietly. You take your money and leave. I will keep my company." Adrian hunches forward. "Nobody gets hurt."

"But what if someone discovers it's a scam?"

"They won't. We'll be extremely cautious."

I turn to the back page. Space for my signature at the bottom. Beside Adrian's name in swirling black script.

"I need time to think about it."

"How long?"

"I don't know. One day? Two days?"

Adrian has a firm head-shake. "I don't have two days. You have to tell me by tonight."

"Tonight?" My voice rises and in terror. "That's not enough!"

"It has to be long enough." He sets his arm across the table and sets his hand on top of mine. His hand warms and smooths like expensive lotion. "Seraphina, I know this is insane. But sometimes insanity is all we have left."

I glance down at the hand covering mine. His are smooth and long, no cuts or calluses like mine. This man has never gone without knowing how he was going to be able to afford medicine.

"Why me?" I ask. "You could marry anyone. Rich girls who would jump at the chance."

"Rich girls are too nosy. They want romance and true love and all that." Adrian's grip around my hand becomes tighter. "You need cash urgently, and I need a wife urgently. It's perfect."

"Perfect for you, perhaps."

"Perfect for both of us." He releases me and takes out a pen. "Sign the contract, Seraphina. Let me save you."

I look at the pen. It is silver and heavy, worth more than I've made in a week, maybe. If I sign, it's all different. If I don't, Mom will die.

"What if I'm not any good? What if I'm awful at lying?"

"You won't be bad at it."

"How do you know?"

"Because you'll have to be good at it. Your mother's life depends on it."

His words hit me. He always manages to say exactly what he needs to in order to make me do what he wants me to. He knows something about Mom.

"that's not fair," I gasp.

"life isn't fair." Adrian thrusts the pen at me. "But sometimes we get lucky and make it better."

I take up the pen. It weighs heavily in my hand, like gold, not silver. The pages of the contract rustle in the air from the diner's antiquated air conditioner.

"If I sign it, what is next?"

"You move into my penthouse tomorrow. We will marry within a week." Adrian scans my face. "And your mother receives the finest medical treatment money can offer."

My heart beats so hard that I'm sure it will shatter my ribs. This is crazy. Getting married to a stranger is what movies are for, not life.

Life, though, is Mom getting ill day by day. Life is working until my feet bleed and not even being able to purchase something. Life is seeing the one I love most in the whole world die day by day.

I put the pen down on the paper. My scribble appears tiny and pathetic alongside all the big, proper letters.

"There," I whisper. "It's done."

Adrian smiles for the first time since I've known him. "Welcome to the family, Mrs. Kane."

Mrs. Kane. The name tastes strange and terrifying and incredible all at once.

"What if your grandfather's ghost returns and isn't pleased with our marriage being real enough?"

Adrian's smile disappears. "Then we're both in trouble."