Chapter three

Chapter three

The Proposition

Beep!Beep!

The sound of the heart monitor echoed through the silent hospital room. Isabella traced her finger along Josephine's pale hand. Her sister's chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.

Dr. Martinez's words from earlier thundered in Isabella's head. "Advanced stage lymphoma... aggressive treatment required immediately... experimental therapy might be our only option...Ms. Taylor. Your sister's condition could deteriorate rapidly without intervention." Each word had been another nail in her coffin of hope. The final blow: "We're looking at roughly half a million dollars for the complete treatment protocol."

Isabella pressed her eyes shut, but the number still blazed behind her eyelids. More money than she'd make in five years at the hotel.

A tear splashed onto their joined hands. Isabella quickly wiped it away. Crying wouldn't pay the bills. Neither would her pathetic savings account or her salary as a Guest Relations Coordinator.

She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Josephine's forehead. "I'll figure something out, Jo. I promise." Her voice cracked. "You're all I have left, I'll be back after my shift."

The evening sun cast long shadows across the hospital parking lot as Isabella hurried toward the bus stop. Her uniform was already wrinkled from spending the day at the hospital, but there wasn't time to change before her shift. Three blocks from the hotel, the screech of tires jerked her from her thoughts.

A black Lamborghini suddenly swerved across her path. Isabella stumbled backward, her heart hammering. "What the hell?"

The driver's door swung open, and Alexander Elysian unfolded his tall frame from the car. Isabella's stomach dropped. The same man who'd cornered her at the gallery the other day now stood before her, looking like he'd stepped out from a fashion magazine cover in his tailored suit.

Every instinct screamed at her to run, but before she could move, he called out: "Isabella Taylor. Where do you think you're going?"

She froze. "How do you—"

"Know your name?" His lips curved into that infamous playboy smirk she'd seen splashed across social media. He reached into his jacket and extended a platinum business card between two fingers. "I make it my business to know everything about... interesting people."

I'm late for my shift."

“ I know about your sister's condition. Unfortunate, really. Those medical bills must be... overwhelming."

The words hit like a physical blow.Her fingers itched to slap that smug look off his face. "Is there a point to this harassment?"

"A proposition, actually." He stepped closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. "Marry me."

A laugh bursted from her throat. " Excuse me.Marriage? You can't be serious."

"A business arrangement. One year of marriage. You get enough money to save your sister. I get my inheritance. Simple."

"And what makes you think I'd ever agree to that?"

His smile sharpened. "Because, Veritas, I don't think you can afford not to."

The blood drained from her face. Her secret identity, the one thing that let her expose corruption among the elite—he couldn't know. "Is that a threat?"

"Think of it as leverage and a business proposition." He stepped closer, his cologne teasing her senses. "Marry me. One year, no strings attached. Play the devoted wife in public, and I'll ensure Josephine gets the best medical care money can buy, the benefits far outweigh any... inconvenience.You need money. I need a wife. Simple business transaction."

"Nothing about this is simple." Isabella's nails bit into her palms. "If you'll excuse me, some of us actually have to work for a living."

She walked pass him, forcing her steps to remain steady as she walked away.

"Let me give you a ride" he called after her.

Isabella didn't turn around. "I'd rather walk barefoot over broken glass."

"I'll be expecting you, sweetheart" he said with a smile.

His low chuckle followed her down the sidewalk. Who did he think he was? Just another rich playboy who thought money could buy anything – or anyone. Her mother's voice echoed in her memory: "Never let them see you bend, mi amor."

But as Isabella's fingers brushed the locket at her throat, Josephine's pale face floated before her eyes. The experimental treatment was her sister's only chance.

Her phone buzzed: a reminder for her evening shift. Isabella straightened her shoulders and picked up her pace. She had eight hours of pasting on a smile and serving entitled guests ahead of her.

*******************

Three Days Later

The marble floors of the Elysian Grand's lobby gleamed like mirrors under crystal chandeliers. Isabella adjusted her name tag, suppressing a yawn. Night shifts were sometimes always quieter, which usually meant less chaos to manage. Usually.

"Ms. Taylor, could you help with the Jensen party? They're insisting their suite isn't suite enough." Marie, another coordinator, rolled her eyes.

"Alright,On it." Isabella grabbed her tablet, already pulling up alternate room options. Three steps toward the elevator—that's when she heard it. That distinctive laugh that had been haunting her for three days.

No. No. No.

Alexander Elysian entered through the front doors with a blonde draped over his arm. Isabella dove behind a massive flower arrangement, nearly knocking over a vase of orchids.

"Did you see something?" Marie whispered.

"Shh!" Isabella peeked through the flowers. Alexander was heading toward the bar, his companion giggling at something he'd whispered. "Since when does he come to his own hotel?"

"Who—oh!" Marie's eyes widened. "That's—"

“The devil incarnate." Isabella ducked lower as Alexander glanced their way.

The blonde's tinkling laugh echoed across the lobby. "Oh, Alex, you're so funny!"

Isabella rolled her eyes. Really? That's the best line she could come up with.

A petal tickled her nose. Don't sneeze. Don't sneeze. Don't—

"Achoo!"

The vase wobbled. Isabella grabbed it, but her tablet slipped. It hit the marble with a crack that echoed through the lobby.

"Everything alright over there?" Alexander's amused voice carried across the lobby.

Isabella froze, leaves stuck in her hair. "Perfectly fine!" she squeaked, still hidden.

Isabella arm crawled behind the check-in desk, dragging her tablet. Her manager shot her a look that clearly questioned her sanity.

"Just checking the... baseboards," she whispered. "Very dusty. Terrible. I'll write a report."

She waited until Alexander's footsteps faded before emerging, leaves tangled in her hair.

"That was smooth," Marie snickered.

"Shut up." Isabella picked a petal off her uniform. "I just need to avoid him—"

Her phone buzzed. St. Mary's Hospital flashed on the screen.

"Hello?" The blood drained from her face as she listened. "I'll be right there."

She was running before she ended the call, her heels clicking against marble, then concrete, then linoleum as she burst through the hospital doors. The emergency wing stretched before her, endless and white.

"Josephine Taylor?" She gripped the nurse's station counter. "My sister—they called—"

"Ms. Taylor." Dr. Martinez emerged from a room, her expression grave. "Your sister is stabilized, but it happened sooner than we anticipated. The cancer is advancing aggressively. Without immediate intervention..." She paused. "The next 48 hours are critical. If we don't start treatment—"

Isabella's knees gave out. She slid down the wall, her world spinning. The floor was cold against her palms as tears splashed onto the sterile tiles. "How can I—" The words choked her. "That much money—"

"I'll give you a moment," Dr. Martinez said softly.

For that moment,she felt hopeless. Different thoughts flashed through her mind but non could solve her current predicament. Her sister's monitor beeps were like countdown and she has to act fast..

Then as she stood up ,Something fell from her bag. A platinum card lay half-hidden under a waiting room chair, the name "Alexander Elysian" gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

Isabella stared at the card, his business card felt heavy in her hand. It held both hope and ruin.She already knew what must be done. She took a deep breath and dialed his number with shaking fingers.

Sometimes the devil's bargain is the only one left on the table.