Mia dragged her feet slowly along the pavement, swinging her small bag absentmindedly by her side.
The paper from earlier lingered stubbornly in her mind. The numbers written on it refused to disappear. A million dollars per month.
Even thinking about it made her chest tighten. That amount alone could cover Brielle's surgery without hesitation.
No more sleepless nights calculating bills, no more begging hospitals for extensions.
And after the surgery… she could finally enroll her in a better school. Somewhere bright. Somewhere safe.
Somewhere Brielle could run and laugh like every other child.
For the first time in weeks, the crushing weight sitting on Mia's shoulders felt slightly lighter.
Her tense shoulders slowly relaxed, and a faint smile crept to the corner of her lips.
It felt strange.
Relief… mixed with something else she couldn't quite name.
But as quickly as the smile appeared, it disappeared.
"He didn't even ask what I'd use that huge amount of money for… guess he's strict in keeping each other's privacy. Not as if I'd state my reasons if he asked," Mia soliloquized.
"He just concluded I'm a gold digger. He's a complete asshole," she added while shrugging it off.
"Am I staying with him? It wasn't stated there… gosh, I didn't check it… my goodness," Mia gasped, hitting her face with her palm.
Passersby stared, knowingly nodding each time they walked past her.
"I'm mentally exhausted, but not mad, alright? Thanks for staring," she said dramatically, facing a middle-aged woman she caught looking.
"Something about him sounds familiar," Mia squinted her eyes, muttering under her breath.
Mia… Mia, don't notice anything about that cold devil, or else you're planning to dine with demons in hell, her subconscious snapped.
The price of that money was not small.
One year.
One year of pretending to be the wife of Ethan Blackwood.
Mia let out a quiet breath.
"If it saves Brielle," she murmured softly to herself, tightening her grip on her bag.
"Then it's worth it."
Still, a small part of her wondered what kind of life she had just stepped into.
She got to the bus station. Fortunately, the bus arrived on time.
She left for the hospital quickly. Getting to her daughter's ward, she sat beside her bed. Her phone beeped.
She took it out, expecting a usual text.
Her body froze. Everything suddenly seemed to come to a halt, the surroundings going blurry.
Her pupils dilated, her fingers trembled, her hands covered her mouth to prevent herself from screaming.
"Six zeros… six zeros! A million dollars!"
"Calm down, girl. Is this a dream?" She pinched her cheeks.
"Ouch! That hurts," she rubbed lightly.
"It's not a dream…"
She pecked Brielle's forehead as she smiled.
"Thank you, Brielle… for holding on this long." Her voice filled with emotion.
"Let me quickly make the necessary payment."
Her eyes lingered a little longer, then she left the ward stealthily, making her way to the hospital financial department.
------
The streetlight cast a yellow glow in the neighborhood.
Feeling accomplished, Mia stomped her feet on the floor on her way home, an earplug stuck in her ears.
She finally smiled genuinely for the first time in weeks. She twirled happily. Her daughter's surgery would finally be scheduled.
She had solved one of her major problems.
Mia got to the rooftop of the building. A choking smell hit her nostrils.
She found a figure seated on a couch, with her back facing her.
On the other end, Maxine had already trashed her cigar.
She knew someone was approaching; the scent was familiar.
"New neighbor," she said with a lazy smile, finally facing her.
Mia stood fixated, her words caught in her throat.
Her steps were measured, careful not to alert anyone.
"Good evening," she finally managed.
"Hello, pretty lady," Maxine smiled happily.
"Uh… I couldn't appreciate you properly for saving me the other day."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Maxine said casually.
"Oh really? But you did save me. Thank you so much," Mia said, clasping her two palms together.
"Did I?" Maxine replied, puzzled.
Shortly after, Claire arrived on the rooftop.
"Oh, good evening," she mouthed while staring deeply at Maxine.
"Good evening. Yep, my name is Mia. I didn't introduce myself properly. I apologize."
"Oh, it's nothing…" Claire said.
"Awnnn, you have such a nice name. Why don't you join us for dinner?" Maxine flashed a puppy-eyed look.
"Uh…" Mia began.
"Don't say no, Mia. I made the pancakes myself," Claire said, clasping her fingers together.
"Let me quickly change," Mia said, bowing shortly and leaving them standing.
"Okay, okay," both Maxine and Claire said, heading to their apartment.
Mia stepped into the small but cozy apartment. The faint scent of coffee and sweet pastries filled the air.
Claire and Maxine were already seated on the couch, casual laughter bouncing lightly off the walls.
"Finally, you're here," Maxine teased, raising an eyebrow as Mia took a seat.
The table in front of them was scattered with pancakes, snacks, and soft drinks. A small vase with fresh flowers added a cheerful touch.
Mia smiled, feeling warmth she hadn't expected.
They chatted easily, their voices blending with the soft hum of the city outside.
The atmosphere was light and comfortable, a small bubble of normalcy amid the chaos of the world outside.
Later that evening, Chairman Roth sat in his private study, the dim light casting sharp shadows across his face.
On the large screen before him, a familiar figure appeared, his daughter, from Italy.
"Hey, daughter. Guess you have forgotten me," Chairman Roth asked.
"Dad…" a feminine voice sounded. "You know how busy I can be."
"Fine, fine, fine. I agree," Roth shrugged. "You called… I guess it's something important."
"One of the reasons I adore you as my daughter is the rumors about Ethan… they're spreading faster than we imagined," Roth said, his voice calm but cutting, fingers steepled on the desk.
"Soon, they could damage everything we've built. His image, the company… even the stock value."
On the screen, his daughter's expression was unreadable, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
"The CEO of Blackwood Conglomerate?" she said, her lips twitching slightly.
"Yes," he replied.
"Hmm… interesting," she chuckled.
"And you want me to do… what exactly?" she said.
Roth leaned closer, eyes narrowing.
"You could be useful to him… persuade him where I cannot, and make yourself useful."
A faint, calculating smile touched her lips.
"You mean… use me as a vehicle?"
"Exactly," Roth replied without hesitation.
"The timing is critical. Ethan cannot know what we're planning.
If we guide this properly… he'll comply without suspicion. If the rumors worsen, it could force his hand. He will not question you if you appear to be helping him."
Her eyes flickered, a mix of intrigue and quiet amusement.
"And the rest? What if he refuses?"
"That won't happen," Roth said flatly.
"I've spoken with his father. He may not see the need now, but he will listen when I advise.
Ethan respects authority… even if he despises it. You just need to be ready, patient, and… persuasive."
"And if our plan doesn't work, there's always a plan B," Chairman Roth smiled.
She leaned back slightly, fingers brushing her lips, her mind already calculating, rehearsing scenarios, planning subtle gestures.
"Understood. I'll follow your lead. But this… this must be flawless."
Roth's hand slammed lightly on the desk.
"Exactly. No mistakes. He cannot know who is steering him. This is chess. Every move counts."
"I thought I had to wait a little longer before getting entangled with you… guess fate has its own way of doing things," she thought, a knowing smile settling on her lips.