Married to my Billionaire Boss

The early morning sun cast a soft glow over the modest one-bedroom apartment Paula shared with her family. The faint hum of life in the crowded neighborhood buzzed through the thin walls-a baby crying in the distance, the rattle of carts wheeled by street vendors, and the occasional chatter of neighbors preparing for their day. Paula stirred awake, her body weary but her mind sharp as ever.

The alarm clock hadn't rung yet, but she didn't need it. She had long since trained her body to wake before the sun, ensuring she had enough time to juggle the responsibilities that weighed heavily on her slim shoulders. Silently, she crept out of the bed she shared with her younger sister, Mia, careful not to disturb the frail teenager who slept soundly.

In the kitchen, she lit the single gas burner, her hands moving quickly to prepare a simple breakfast of yam and eggs. As the scent of frying onions filled the air, she glanced at the crumpled envelope on the counter-an overdue hospital bill. Her chest tightened, but she shook off the rising worry. Dwelling on it wouldn't help.

"Paula," came a weak voice from the living room. She turned to see her father, who was propped up on the threadbare sofa, his once-strong frame now thin and hunched. He offered her a faint smile.

"You're up early, Papa," Paula said, hurrying over with a glass of water.

"I couldn't sleep," he admitted, his voice raspy. "I was thinking about... everything. You're doing too much, my daughter."

Paula knelt beside him, holding his hand. "Don't worry about me, Papa. My job is going well, and I'm saving up. Things will get better. I promise."

Her father's eyes brimmed with pride and sorrow as he patted her hand. Paula felt the weight of his unspoken words: You shouldn't have to carry this burden.

Her father had been a pillar of strength for the family once-a factory worker who had sacrificed his dreams to raise Paula and Mia after their mother's death. Paula often remembered his booming laugh and the way he'd scoop her up as a child, spinning her around until they were both dizzy. Now, the years of labor and grief had worn him down, leaving him a shadow of the man he once was.

"Did you take your medicine?" Paula asked softly, scanning the table for his pill bottle.

"I will after breakfast," he said, attempting a reassuring smile.

"Promise me," Paula pressed. He nodded, and she relaxed slightly, though she knew he often skipped doses to save money.

In the tiny bedroom, Mia groaned sleepily as Paula nudged her awake. At 15, Mia was bright and full of potential, her academic achievements a source of pride for the entire family. Despite her health struggles, she carried a natural cheerfulness that brightened even the darkest days.

"Five more minutes," Mia mumbled, pulling the thin blanket over her head.

Paula smirked and tugged it back. "If I let you sleep in, you'll blame me for missing the bus. Come on, breakfast is ready."

Mia sat up, her curly hair a wild mess, and stretched. "You know, you'd make a terrible alarm clock," she teased, rubbing her eyes.

"And you'd make a terrible student if you don't get to school on time," Paula shot back, laughing as Mia playfully shoved her.

The two sisters shared an unbreakable bond. Despite their age difference, Mia often acted as Paula's confidant, listening intently to her sister's worries even when she didn't fully understand them. Paula, in turn, doted on Mia, determined to give her the opportunities she herself had sacrificed.

Over breakfast, the small family shared a quiet moment of togetherness. Mia chatted about her schoolwork, her face lighting up as she described an upcoming science competition. Their father listened intently, his pride evident even as he winced from a sudden pang in his chest. Paula watched them both, her heart swelling with love and a fierce determination to protect them at all costs.

After walking Mia to school, Paula caught the crowded bus to work. Despite the bumpy ride, her thoughts lingered on her family. She remembered the nights when her father worked overtime to afford her college tuition and the countless times Mia had stayed up to wait for her after late shifts. They were her anchor, her reason for pushing through every challenge.

As Paula sat at her desk later that day, reviewing reports and answering emails, the image of her family stayed with her. Every keystroke, every calculation, was driven by the promise she'd made to herself: to give her father the rest he deserved and ensure Mia's future was bright.

And though the weight of her responsibilities was immense, Paula wore it like armor. She was her family's protector, their provider, and their hope for a better tomorrow.