A Billionaire's Marriage Contract

stless sheets, turning the evening dark

ot to let the cold ruin the little pink frosting roses on top. The cake was tiny, cheap, and a little une

hield. Her umbrella had broken weeks ago, and she hadn't had the money to replace it. Every time

er twenty-fou

between shifts. But she had bought this cake for them: a small celebration, a quiet dinner, a

year, her mother was lying in a hospital bed on the fourth floor of St. Mary's, thin and pale, her heart growing weaker by the wee

g, Ethan ha

atch twice, kissed her quickly on the chee

day. No flower

usy.* She repeated it while wiping tables, while counting tips behind the d

cket over her head in the rain and made her laugh until she forgot how badly her feet hurt. Somewhere along the way, those nights had turn

as stressed. Ethan was tryin

opped the cake. She caught the box against her stomach and fumbled for her

ry's Ho

tightene

el

's Nurse

ard the caution underneath it immediat

she asked, her voi

ic. But the surgeons moved her procedure up. There

nst the wall. Friday. Tha

pulse jumped. "That means

the billing office asked me to remind you tha

knew what was coming, and som

h?" she

n Nurse Carla said, "E

ilt around her, and she gripped the cake box h

eight hundred. Not

e kind of amount people like Ethan talked about casually over drinks, the kind V

se Carla a

mother was waiting for heart surgery, and all Ava had in her hands was a birthday cake s

forced th

find

he would go, who she would beg, or what she

ent, listening to the rain and the distant hum o

it made her feel almost pretty. It had become the dress she saved for moments that mattered: birthda

felt c

e had forgotten her birthday, but he would remember now. Maybe h

ook the spare key from her purse, unloc

d expensive room spray floated through the space. Somethin

he hea

gh. Soft, bre

ocked. At first her mind tried to explain it away

ell to the floo

h, glossy, and

ess

her heart dropped so violently it felt

nessa. Any

he turned toward the livi

a white sheet, one long leg crossed over the other as if she had every right to be there. Her lipstick was perfect, and her sleek dark w

lock ticked on the wall. Ava heard the wet, ugly sound of her own bre

n stood t

va

hat you thi

ic, so automatic, tha

d smirked, slow and deliberate, like a c

birthda