Married To The Cold Hearted Billionaire

Amira's POV

For a second, just one, I could pretend everything was fine. That there weren't red notices stuffed under the door. That Jace didn't need new shoes for school. That Dad wasn't six feet under, leaving nothing but memories and a mountain of debts behind.

But reality doesn't wait for anyone.

I dragged myself up, legs aching from the long shift at the diner last night. My stomach growled, but I ignored it. There was only enough oatmeal left for one person, and I already knew who would get it.

I tiptoed across the cold floor and peeked into Jace's room. He was still curled under the thin blanket, his face peaceful, mouth slightly open. He looked younger in his sleep, like he didn't have the weight of the world pressing down on him.

I walked to the kitchen, the tiles cold against my bare feet. The oatmeal was right where I'd left it-a small tin on the top shelf, tucked behind a chipped mug.

I poured the last scoop into a pot and added water, stirring it slowly as it bubbled. It didn't smell like much, but it would fill Jace's stomach for a little while.

When I placed the bowl in front of him, he blinked up at me, yawning. "You're not eating?"

"I already did," I lied with a smile. "Come on, eat up. You've got school in an hour."

He didn't question me, just started eating with small, grateful bites.

I watched him, trying to memorize everything. His dark curls that refused to stay flat. The way he hummed when he chewed, soft and distracted. I had to keep him safe. That was all that mattered.

My phone buzzed from the counter, the vibration sharp and urgent. I didn't need to check to know who it was.

Rico.

My heart sank.

I let it buzz three times before picking up. "Hello?"

"You got until Friday, Amira," Rico's voice was cold. "After that, we're done waiting. You know what that means."

"I just need more time-"

"We gave you time. A lot of it. Your old man owed us, and you took his place when he bailed on life. We're not running a charity, girl."

I swallowed hard. "Please. I'm trying. I have a job. I'm doing everything I can-"

"You think we care about your job at that rat-hole diner?" he snapped. "$120,000, Amira. Friday. Or Jace starts paying in ways you won't like."

He hung up.

I stood there, phone trembling in my hand, a chill running down my spine. My legs felt weak, like they might fold beneath me. Five thousand dollars. By Friday. That was four days.

Jace looked up, his eyes innocent. "Was that someone from work?"

"Yeah," I forced out, folding my arms so he wouldn't see my shaking hands. "They just needed me to come in earlier today."

He nodded, not asking more. Thank God.

After he left for school with his too-small backpack bouncing behind him, I sat at the edge of the couch and stared at the ceiling. The room felt smaller every day, like the walls were pushing in. Like the air was getting heavier.

The loan sharks hadn't always been this aggressive. At first, it was just calls and notes. Then they started coming by, knocking at the door late at night. Rico was the worst of them. He smiled like it was all a game. Like our pain amused him.

The worst part was the way he looked at Jace the last time he showed up. He didn't say anything, but I knew. It was a threat wrapped in a smile.

I had to find a way. And Fast.

******

The diner smelled like grease and burnt toast, and the coffee machine had been sputtering all morning. I worked the tables, plastering on a smile that barely reached my eyes. Most customers didn't notice. They never did.

"You okay, sweetheart?" asked Mrs. Laney, one of the regulars. Her voice was kind, but her eyes were sharp, always watching.

"Just tired," I said, refilling her cup.

"You look like you got the whole world on your shoulders."

I smiled again, tighter this time. "Maybe just a small piece of it." She reached into her purse and slid a five-dollar bill toward me. "Get yourself something nice, okay?"

My throat tightened. Five dollars wouldn't change my world, but her kindness meant something. I tucked it into my apron.

During my break, I stared at my phone again, fingers hovering over the search bar. Quick loans. Side jobs. Selling my belongings.

The words blurred together. None of them would get me a hundred and twenty thousand dollars in four days.I was still staring at the screen when Jake, one of the cooks, nudged me with his elbow.

"You good?"

I blinked. "Yeah. Just thinking."

He squinted at me. "Have you ever thought about dancing?"

I frowned. "Like... ballet?"

He laughed. "Nah. Like working at clubs. I got a cousin who makes more in one night than you and me make in a week."

My stomach turned. "That's not really... my thing."

He shrugged. "Didn't say it was. Just... if you ever get desperate."

I didn't answer. Just nodded and went back to work.

But the thought wouldn't leave. That night, after Jace was asleep, I sat on the bathroom floor with my knees pulled to my chest.

The bathroom was the only place I could cry without waking him. I kept the faucet running to drown the sound.

What kind of sister would I be if I didn't do everything to protect him? The idea from earlier kept circling in my mind like a vulture.

No, I couldn't.

But... What if I could?

If one night could get me close to the money...

If it meant Jace wouldn't have to look over his shoulder or flinch at every knock on the door...

Maybe it was worth it.

I wiped my face with the hem of my shirt and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes looked older than they should've. Tired. But there was something else too.

If the world wanted to break me, it would have to try harder. I wasn't doing this because I wanted to.

I was doing this because I had no other choice.

And I'd do anything to keep my brother safe.

Even if it meant breaking myself in the process