His Six Months Bride

I hated begging.

I really did.

But when the bank manager looked at me and said, "No loan for you," I almost dropped to my knees right there in his office.

I was that desperate.

But what could I do? He didn't own the bank. He was just doing his job.

So I walked out of the bank with heavy shoulders and headed straight back to the hospital.

★

"Miss, we cannot help you."

The doctor didn't even look at me. His eyes remained fixed on the file in front of him.

"Your father's bill is fifty thousand dollars. You have until 6 p.m. to make the payment, or we'll have to discharge him."

Fifty thousand dollars!

Gawd!

Where in the world was I supposed to find that kind of money?

I ran out of his office, my chest tight and my breathing uneven. The corridor smelled of disinfectant and fear. It always did in hospitals, but today, everything felt worse.

Tears were already sliding down my cheeks before I even realized I was crying.

How am I supposed to get this kind of money? What kind of job could I possibly do within a few hours to raise fifty thousand dollars?

I was so deep in thought, drowning in panic, that I didn't notice the person walking toward me.

Thud!

Hot coffee splashed everywhere.

All over a black suit.

A suit that probably cost more than I would earn in an entire year.

"I'm so sorry! Oh my God, I'm so sorry, sir!"

I dropped to my knees immediately, pulling tissues from my handbag and trying to clean the mess. My hands were shaking.

The man didn't move an inch.

He simply stood there, looking down at me.

Tall.

Broad-shouldered.

And annoyingly handsome.

The kind of handsome that made you angry because, somehow, he was also rude.

"Do you know how much this suit costs?"

His voice was icy. Even though it was low, it sent a chill through me.

"You people are always running around like your lives depend on it."

"It does," I whispered before I could stop myself.

Then I realized what I had said and quickly got to my feet.

Gawd.

I had bigger problems to worry about.

The clock was ticking.

I glanced at my wristwatch.

2:45 p.m.

A shiver ran down my arms.

My heart hammered against my chest.

No. I need to save my father. I have to find a way.

I looked up.

His cold eyes were still fixed on me, staring as though he could devour me with a single look.

What kind of attitude was that?

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"I'll pay for the dry cleaning. Just… please, I have to—"

Before I could finish, his driver opened the door of a black Mercedes parked a few steps away.

The man stared at me for two seconds that felt like forever.

Then he spoke.

"Get in the car."

He didn't look away.

"What?" I blinked in surprise.

"Get in. We need to talk about how you're going to pay for this."

He paused.

"And, more importantly, about your father's bill."

My heart stopped.

"The fifty thousand dollars."

WTF.

How in the world did he know?

Just then, my phone rang.

That was when I realized my mouth was still hanging open. I quickly pulled myself together and checked the caller ID.

Mum.

If I picked up, she'd ask about Dad, and I was terrible at lying. She would know immediately.

But if I didn't answer, she'd start worrying even more.

What was I supposed to do?

"Grannn… grannn…"

My phone vibrated again, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I knew my mum too well. If I ignored her, she'd get so worried that she might come straight to the hospital.

And I couldn't let her hear the heartbreaking news from the doctor.

I took a deep breath and answered.

"Why didn't you pick up? You got me worried."

Her voice came through the phone, filled with anxiety.

I knew it.

She worried about the slightest thing. That was just Mum.

"I'm sorry, Mummy. I was in the restroom when you called," I lied, hoping she wouldn't question me further.

But she didn't seem interested in my excuse.

"What did the doctor say about your father? How is he doing? Is he okay? I told you I wanted to follow you there. I don't know why you won't let me. Is he awake now? When will I get to—"

"Mum! Gosh! One question at a time!"

My voice came out louder than I intended.

"How am I supposed to answer all of that? Am I a robot?"

There was a brief silence.

"I'm sorry…" she said softly. "I'm just so worried right now, my dear."

I immediately regretted snapping at her.

I let out a long breath.

"I know, Mum."

"Tessa? Are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here. Sorry. I got distracted for a moment."

"Don't worry, my dear. It's going to be fine. I've got this under control."

I almost laughed at my own lie.

I didn't have anything under control.

"I know you do, my dear. I just want to know what the doctor said. And, more importantly, how your father is doing. I feel so restless."

"Mum, please don't start. I need you to stay strong, okay? I can't be worrying about Dad and worrying about you too. Please, just trust me."

"I know, my dear. I just want to know how I can help. What can I do?"

That question almost broke me.

I couldn't keep the conversation going. If I said another word, I knew I was going to cry.

"Nothing much. Just calm down and relax. I need to take care of something. I'll call you back in a few minutes."

"Okay, my dear. Just call me if there's anything I can help with."

"Yes, Mum. Take care of yourself."

"You too, my dear."

"I love you, Mum."

I hung up before she could reply.

I pressed my lips together and took a shaky breath.

My heart was still pounding.

Fear, confusion, and doubt swirled through my mind, making it difficult to think clearly.

Then I noticed the black Mercedes.

It was still parked where I had left it.

The windows were rolled up, making it impossible to tell whether Damien was inside.

I thought about what he had said.

Get in. We need to talk about how you're going to pay for this. And, more importantly, about your father's bill.

How did he know?

Why was he interested in my father's treatment?

Did he actually want to pay the bill?

No way.

He didn't look like the kind of man who helped people out of kindness.

He looked cold, distant, and rude.

At least, that was what I had seen so far.

What if he's a kidnapper?

The thought immediately crossed my mind.

But another voice in my head argued back.

What if he actually wants to help?

You could never tell.

"Gawd! Gawd! Gawd!"

I ran a hand through my hair.

"What should I do?"

"Are you going to come over here, or do you plan on standing there staring all day?"

His voice suddenly came from the car.

The window had rolled down.

Damien was looking directly at me.

Still wearing that same cold expression.

Does this man even know how to smile?

I considered running.

Then I remembered his words.

Your father's bill. The fifty thousand dollars.

My feet moved before I could change my mind.

I dragged myself toward the car, every step filled with uncertainty.

Am I making a mistake?

I reached the car.

Opened the door.

And got in.

Cold air immediately brushed against my skin. The air conditioner was blasting, and the air freshener smelled so expensive that I almost wanted to ask what brand it was.

For a moment, I forgot everything as I admired the luxurious interior.

Then I felt Damien move.

Closer.

My body stiffened.

He was so close that I could feel his breath against my neck.

Oh my Gawd.

What was he doing?

My heart pounded wildly.

And then—

TO BE CONTINUED…