2-Sperm Donor

Savannah

“Hello, Daughter.”

I ball my hands into fists and breathe calmly. Being angry right now won't help my case. “Hello, Mr. Knights,” I gritted, walking towards him.

He smirks. “Mr. Knights? Is that the way to greet your father? Aren't you going to call me Dad?”

I grit my teeth together and dig my fingers into my palms. “It's nice to see you again, Mr. Knights,” I say, emphasizing the “Mr. Knights.”

He seems to catch on because he smirks. “Indeed it is. How may I help you?”

As tried as I might be, I need to remain calm and patient with him if I'm going to get anything out of him. “I need your help.”

His eyes widen for a second before he smirks. “You need my help?” he asks, slowly looking at me and observing me. “I never thought the day would come when you'd ask for my help, considering you hate me.”

My eyes snap to his. “I hate you?” I grit out, “I. Hate. You?!” He doesn't answer; he continues to watch me. I shake my head to get rid of the thoughts coming from the things I want to say to him. I need to focus on what's important. “I need your help. It's my mother.”

He straightens up. “What's wrong with Elizabeth?” Is that a tinge of concern there?

I shake my head. “She's sick. She needs surgery. The doctor said if she doesn't have the surgery soon, she'll pause and can't even imagine myself saying that word, “I need your help. Please.”

He stands up and walks to stand, looking out the window. He unbuttons a few buttons of his black two-piece suit and pushes his hands into his pocket, gazing at the city surrounding us. “How much do you need?”

Hope blossoms up inside of me. “The doctors said if we have a donor, it's $50,000, and if not, $10,000, but I'm willing to check if I'm a positive match for her. Plus, there's the previous hospital bill, which is about $20,000 as well.” Listing the amount now makes me wonder how I would get that much. I've been working double jobs, which explains why I have extra clothes with me, but even if I worked for two months, I wouldn't be able to raise that amount.

“Okay, I'll pay.” My heart jumps at his words, “One condition.” Of course, I should've known. He'll never do something without asking for something in return.

Without thinking correctly, I ask, “What's the condition?” I'm hoping and praying that it's something I can do. “I'm willing to do anything within my power, as long as it's not illegal.”

He turns to me, "Are you a virgin?” I reared back like he just slapped me.

I jump out of the chair. “Excuse me?” I asked in shock. He did not just ask me that.

“Are you a virgin?” he repeats, watching me. He must've seen something on my face because he chuckles. “You think that low of me, don't you? I'm not going to make you have casual sex with anyone, nor am I asking for myself, but if I must help your mother, you can at least help me this way. After all, the amount you're asking for is a huge sum.”

“Huge sum of money? It's something you can afford!”

“Are you going to stand there and argue with me, or do you need to listen to what I have to say?”

“You're asking me a personal question,” I say defensively, taking a few steps back from him. What kind of question is that?

He walks forward and plants his hands on his desk. “Look, Child, you're asking me for help here, and I don't have all day. Before you came in here, I had just managed to get rid of the terrible headache that I was having. Either you listen to what I have to say or get out. I don't have all day.”

I shut my mouth. Tears sting the back of my eyes. Get out. What did I ever do to this man? I want to leave here and never look back, but I remind myself this isn't about me. It's about my mom. “Yes,” I whisper, tears falling, “Yes, I am.” He looks at the tears before turning to look back at the city.

I wipe my eyes violently, silently cursing myself for even allowing him to see me vulnerable. “I am in a bind right now. There's a contract that I am supposed to sign with Marshall's company. They need this contract, too, but we have to compromise on a contract marriage that'll help both companies. Except they want a virgin, and Sophia is… well.” He looks at me and says, “You just might be what both families need.”

Contract marriage. To the Marshall. To someone I don't even know.

My mind is racing, but I don't have time to think about myself. “What become of my mom?”

“She'll be treated immediately. You don't have to worry. Mr. Marshall wants to hand the company to his son, but the board demands he marry first, and it'll be a win-win situation for everyone. Your mom gets her treatment; Mr. Marshall's son gets the company; and you? You get money out of this, and who knows? You might be the wife he'll need after all.”

I don't care about myself right now. “Okay. I agree.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Are you certain?” he asks, looking at me. “If you sign this document, there's no going back. The document will not be between you and me but between you and them. If you need time to think about this, I understand.”

No. I don't have time.

This is an opportunity to save my mom, and I'm taking it.

“I said I agree,” I say firmly; there’s no time, and it is no longer about me.

He looks at me for a second and, after seeing nothing but determination, says, “Very well, but you need to change and look decent. You're going to take this card.” He bends over his desk and pulls out a credit card. “Take care of your hair and get yourself new clothes. Decent ones. And maybe do whatever girls do, and tomorrow, you will meet them.”

I look at the card in his hands and take it slowly. “Don't worry. It doesn't have the amount you need for your mother on it. The code is 1234. After signing the papers, take me to see your mother's doctor, and we'll work from there.”

I nod at him and turn to leave. “And oh, Savannah!” I turn to see him watching me, and I wait for him. “For what it's worth, you're doing a brave thing. Your mother isn't going to like it, so I think you should keep it a secret from her.”

I look at the man who is supposed to be my father. He's maybe in his early fifties, but he doesn't look like his age. I have to admit, he is handsome. His beard is pure white, along with his hair, almost like salt and pepper. His green eyes are almost like mine, his jawline is sharp, and I must admit, my mom has taste. His lips are pink, and he's not a tiny man.

I nod at his words and open the door, walking outside without a backward glance. I press my back against the door and take a deep breath before heading to the elevator.

What matters is that my mom gets her treatment. I'll worry about myself later. I nod at the two men and enter the waiting elevator, wondering how they knew I was coming. I rest against the end of the elevator, watching the numbers go down.

I'm too exhausted to think about anything. I leave the elevator and head to the shop for something to wear. I walk into one of the expensive stores adjacent to the hotel.

The store attendant, a beautiful blonde, walks up to me, seeming friendly. “Welcome, ma'am. What are you looking for?”

I look around, feeling out of place. “Uhm, something for me? Something decent? Something you think will look good on me?” I ask rather than say, remembering my father's words. “You know what? Pick for me.”

“Oh yes, come right along! We have just the right choices for you.” She walks ahead of me, chattering about clothes she thinks will fit me, and I just let her. She takes me to the fitting room, and after a few minutes of waiting for her, she comes back with a bunch of clothes in hand. “Here you go, try these on. You have nice buns and tits. This should look fantastic on you.”

I take the compliment as a positive one because, you know what? They're delightful.

I smile at her and try on the dress she suggested. She's right, though. It fits me nicely and wraps around my skin like a glove. It's a baby blue sleeveless arm dress with a split to the knee that goes just the correct number of legs. And legs I have—long, slender ones.

I walk out, and she gasps. “I knew that would look good on you. Turn around,” I do a 360 for her. “Not too sexy, not too classic. Just perfect”.

I smile at her, “Thank you.”

She waves it, “It's not every day a real-life doll comes in here for dressing. Now go try these”.

After trying everything, she has good taste, from the too classic to the simple to the sexy and the just enough. I'm confident I look good; I need to finish my hair.

“Thank You so much!” I say as I hand the card to her to pay the bills, “Maybe take 200 for yourself? Consider it as a tip for good service”!

She looks surprised before she nods. I looked at her hair, and I turned to her, “You wouldn't happen to know where I can get my hair done, would you?”

She looked at me and smirked, “I'll handle that.” she picked up her phone and dialed a number, which reminded me that I needed to buy myself a phone right after I was done with there.

She rattles something on the phone before looking at me, “They'll be here soon.”

My eyes widened, “They?”

“Yes, don't worry. They're the best you can get out there. You don't need the extra stylists and their attitude. Bill will handle you just fine”.

I smiled at her and sat in the chair, “is that okay with your boss?”

She smiles at me, “Very okay.”

It didn't take long before men carrying bags and boxes entered the store and started clearing space in front of one of the giant mirrors. I didn't notice before, “Is this her?” A tall man with dread hair asks, watching me, “You're right. She's beautiful, and I know what to do.” He approached me and turned my head to the side, “Do you have any idea what you want, darling?”

I shake my head, “No, I just want something simple. Not Anything crazy”.

He smiles, “You'll love this when I'm done.”

After almost 2 hours, my feet are softer than they were, and my fingers are shining and glistening. I turn to look in the mirror, and I gasp as my eyes catch the woman looking back at me. She looks nothing like the girl from this morning.

My hair is shorter than they were, shoulder-length now, and it's been flat ironed, and there are curls at the edge of one. I think there's a little dye in it. “I love It,” I whispered and looked up at him. “Thank you so much! I love this”!

He smiles, “You just needed a touch from a fairy godmother, child. You're beautiful by yourself.”

I smile at him, “Here you go.” I hand him the card and turn to admire myself in the mirror. After he's done, he returns it to me, and I smile at him.

“Here's my contact,” he hands me his card. “Call me anytime, and I'll be at your service.” He turns to the girl who is the Mastermind of all of this. “I have to go now. We have another appointment.” She nods at him, and they hug; she kisses his cheeks, and he and his men gather their things and leave.

“It's hard to see a masculine man during the work of a stylist, but Bill knows what he is doing.” She looks at me in the mirror and smiles. “I knew he would turn you into a beauty.”

“Thank You,” I stretched my hands to her, “I'm Savannah. Savannah Millers,” she held out her hands and shook mine.

“I'm Janelle. Janelle Carson”