Life Comes With Choices

Isabella Knight POV

"Thank you for helping with the orphans today, Bella." The headmistress said warmly as we walked toward the front doors of the orphanage.

"You don’t need to thank me," I replied with a smile. "I really enjoyed baking with the kids. It was a lovely way to spend the day."

"May you be blessed," She said, her voice filled with sincerity. "And good luck with your opportunity overseas. The children are going to miss you dearly."

"I’m going to miss them too," I admitted, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought. "And please, don’t forget to give the toddlers their gifts when they wake up."

"Of course," She assured me with a nod. "They’ll be thrilled."

"I’ll try to stop by tomorrow." I promised, hoping I could squeeze in one last visit before leaving.

Her expression softened, though there was still a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"Have a safe trip, Bella." She said as she opened the doors.

"Thank you." I smiled, stepping outside and glancing at the quiet street, ready to hail a cab.

The day after my visit to the orphanage, I found myself sighing for the second time that afternoon, already exasperated.

"Didn’t you see him?" Pearl asked as we walked toward the bus stop, her voice brimming with curiosity.

She grinned, clearly amused by my lack of enthusiasm.

Pearl and I had been inseparable since high school. At twenty-two, she felt more like an older sister than just a best friend.

We both worked at my mom’s pastry shop, usually serving customers as waitresses. But I often found myself baking pretty much any pastry you could think of. I even whipped up homemade coffee and my personal favorite—ice cream.

Becoming a full-time chef had always been my dream and recently, I’d been offered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work at a five-star restaurant in Chicago. With my diploma, bachelor’s degree and a year of hands-on experience, I was finally ready.

In just a week, I’d be leaving for my new adventure.

"Pearl, not this again," I groaned, cutting her off. "You’ve been going on about Justin Antonio Martínez ever since I got to the shop this morning. And yes, I think I spotted the smug look on his face."

Pearl’s expression turned dreamy, her gaze drifting to the sky. "I don’t get why you don’t like him. He’s famous, rich, gorgeous and honestly, ridiculously hot. Oh my gosh—you should’ve seen the way he smiled at me."

I rolled my eyes.

My dad, who was forty-seven, had worked as a fashion designer at the Martínez company for over a decade. That was until a few days ago when he was abruptly fired. He still wouldn’t tell us why and it had been weighing on my mind ever since.

As for Justin Martínez? He was the epitome of arrogance—filthy rich and cold-hearted.

Sure, he was undeniably good-looking, with a face and body that could’ve been sculpted by the gods themselves.

But he was also a walking cliché of everything I couldn’t stand.

According to my dad’s monthly fashion magazines, he was twenty-five, a millionaire and a bachelor who spent more time jet-setting than staying in the city.

To the world, he was a fashion icon, a dream man. To me, he was an entitled jerk who thought the universe revolved around him.

"He’s just some cocky rich guy who only cares about himself." I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

Pearl shrugged, her tone casual. "Don’t judge a book by its cover."

I sighed, knowing she had a point but not wanting to admit it.

Instead, I quickly changed the subject. "So, are you going to tell me how my new homemade coffee recipe went over with the customers?"

She nodded, smiling.

When I finally reached home and stepped inside, I heard voices coming from the living room.

"Mom?" I called out as I stepped into the living room, only to stop short when I noticed a stranger sitting on the sofa.

"Honey, you’re home." My mother greeted, stepping toward me with her usual warmth.

I glanced at the man again, confused.

My dad sat in the armchair nearby, looking far more at ease than he had in days.

"This is my youngest daughter." My dad said, gesturing toward me. The man gave a polite nod, his attention shifting to me.

"Isabella, this is Noah, my boss’s assistant." Dad continued.

I stayed quiet, assessing the stranger. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, maybe a little younger, dressed in a sharp dark brown suit.

His short brunette hair was neatly combed with a side part and his chestnut eyes held a calm, professional demeanor.

"What’s he doing here?" I asked, crossing my arms.

It didn’t sit well with me that someone from Dad’s former workplace was visiting, especially after he’d just been fired.

Noah chuckled softly, almost as if amused by my bluntness.

"He’s just here to discuss business for the boss." Dad answered, his tone lighter than it had been in days. He leaned back in his chair, looking more like his old self.

Noah adjusted his glasses and spoke smoothly, "Shall we get started?"

Dad nodded, signaling for him to continue, while I shifted uncomfortably.

"Has Jean come back yet?" I asked, referring to my twenty-three-year-old sister, a fashion model. At least she might have some insight into what was happening.

"No," Mom replied, shaking her head. "She hasn’t returned from her shoot yet."

"I’ll grab a jug of lemonade for you both." She offered, her tone gentle as always.

Noah raised a hand to stop her.

"There’s no need, Mrs. Knight." He said, glancing at his watch before returning his gaze to the room.

Mom hesitated but nodded, stepping aside.

"As I was about to say…" Noah began, his voice steady as he adjusted his glasses.

I turned on my heel, ready to leave the living room.

Whatever this was about, I wasn’t interested.

"My boss is willing to pay you two million dollars for your daughter to marry the assigned offeror for six months. You’ll also be reinstated in your job and you won’t have to worry about repaying your loan." Noah said calmly, tapping on his iPad as he slid it across the table toward my father.

I froze, trying to process what I had just heard.

Loan?

My eyes darted between my parents as my father’s face paled and my mother lowered her gaze to the floor.

"What loan?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended, but my father didn’t even glance in my direction.

"W-what?" My father stammered, pushing the device back toward Noah and rising to his feet.

"That's my daughter." He said, his voice trembling." I can’t...I won’t sign this. It’s like selling her off! Bella has dreams, aspirations—she’s not ready for marriage!" He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling out with every word.

"Dad—what is going on?" I pressed, stepping closer.

My father shook his head, avoiding my gaze. "I can’t do this. I just can’t."

Noah sighed, adjusting his glasses as he leaned back. "Sign it or leave it. Just remember, an offer like this doesn’t come every day. Your loan will be wiped clean and you’ll have your job back."

"What loan?" I snapped again, now glaring at both of my parents, but Noah interrupted before either could answer.

"It’s a straightforward deal, Mr. Knight. Marry her to the assigned offeror and after six months, she’ll be free to go. It’s all written in the contract." Noah placed a pen on the table, his calm demeanor unshaken.

My father hesitated, his eyes flickering to my mother, who sat silently wringing her hands.

"Who’s the offeror? Why is the boss so invested in this?" My father asked, his tone desperate.

"That information is classified until the wedding day," Noah replied smoothly. "But you need to decide quickly. This opportunity won’t wait."

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "This is ridiculous. You expect me to marry a stranger because of some loan I didn’t even know about? Absolutely not."

Noah’s expression didn’t change. He turned to my father instead. "You’ve been out of work for months. You’re drowning in debt. This deal will save everything you’ve built, including your family’s livelihood."

"Noah, I—" My father’s voice cracked as he sank back into his seat. He was breaking and I could see it.

"You’re signing this." Noah pushed the papers closer. My father slowly began to look through it, shaking his head and sighing.

I didn’t have to think twice about why he was Justin Martínez’s assistant. It was clear that both of them thrived on exploiting other people’s vulnerabilities to get what they wanted.

"Dad, don’t..." I urged, but he grabbed the pen with trembling hands and signed his name.

"There." He said weakly, sliding the papers toward Noah.

Noah’s attention shifted to me. "Now, Ms. Knight, your signature is required as well."

I froze, my heart hammering. "Excuse me? No."

"This contract can’t be finalized without your agreement," Noah explained, his tone cool but firm. "You have to sign."

I glanced at my father, who wouldn’t meet my eyes and then at my mother, who looked on the verge of tears.

"Even if not for the money, I need my job back." My father whispered. "Please, Bella. It’s just six months. After that, you’ll be free to go and everything will be fine."

"Fine?" I spat. "How is any of this fine? You’re asking me to throw my life away for a loan you kept secret from me!"

"You’ll still have your dreams," My father continued his nonsense. "Once this is over, you’ll have the chance to rebuild everything. We’ll all be okay, Bella."

I clenched my jaw, fighting back the lump rising in my throat.

Everything about this felt wrong, but I could see the desperation in their faces.

They were drowning and this was their only lifeline.

With shaking hands, I grabbed the pen and scrawled my name at the bottom of the page.

My chest tightened as I shoved the papers back toward Noah.

"Happy?" I asked bitterly.

Noah straightened his jacket and slid the contract into his briefcase.

He pulled out a copy, placing it on the table. He said, "This is your copy."

"It’s great doing business with you, Mr. Knight," He said, standing. "The boss will handle all wedding preparations. The ceremony will be this Sunday."

"Sunday?" I repeated, my voice cracking.

"Sunday." Noah confirmed, giving a curt nod before walking out the door.

The room fell silent, except for my mother’s soft sniffles.

"You’ve really done it now, haven’t you?" My mother snapped suddenly, turning on my father. "What were you thinking, taking out such a massive loan without telling me?"

"I did it for us!" My father shot back. "For this house, for your comfort, for both of my daughters education! Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the benefits!"

"Benefits?" she echoed, her voice breaking. "You’ve just sold our daughter for those ‘benefits.’ Do you even hear yourself?"

"Enough!" I shouted, my voice shaking. "What’s done is done."

I sank into the sofa, my head in my hands.

Four days from now, I would be marrying a stranger.

My life as I knew it was over.