Riley's POV

The car windows were fogged with our breath, and I could barely see the hospital parking lot through the condensation. Lily was curled up in the backseat, finally sleeping after hours of restless crying.

I stared at Brett Graham's business card in the dim light from the street lamps. The paper was thick, expensive. Even his business cards probably cost more than my monthly food budget.

My phone's battery was at three percent, but I used what little power remained to google him. The search results made my stomach clench with fear.

"Ruthless Tech Mogul Destroys Competitors" "Brett Graham: The Ice King of Silicon Valley" "Graham Industries CEO Known for Crushing Opposition"

The photos showed him at business events, always surrounded by beautiful women. Models, actresses, socialites. They all looked the same—tall, thin, perfect. Everything I wasn't.

One article from six months ago caught my attention: "Graham's Engagement Ends in Scandal."

I clicked on it, squinting at the small screen. Victoria Sterling, a blonde socialite from old money, had been engaged to Brett for two years. The engagement ended when she was caught cheating with his business partner. The article mentioned her statement that Brett was "impossible to please" and "emotionally unavailable."

The woman who'd had everything beauty, money, social status couldn't handle him for two years. What made me think I could last six months?

My phone died with a soft beep, the screen flickering once before plunging me into complete darkness.

"Mommy?" Lily's voice was small and scared, cutting through the silence of the car.

"I'm here, baby." I twisted in the driver's seat, trying to see her in the dim streetlight filtering through the windows.

"I don't feel good." Her voice was weaker than before, barely above a whisper.

I reached back with trembling fingers and touched her forehead. She was burning up, worse than before, her skin dry and scorching against my palm. The fever was spiking, and I had no way to help her. No money for medicine, no insurance for a doctor, no phone to call for help.

"I know, sweetheart." My voice cracked despite my efforts to sound calm. "Try to sleep."

But she was shivering now, her small body wracked with violent chills despite the fever radiating from her skin. The contradiction terrified me. I quickly climbed into the backseat, the old car creaking under my weight, and pulled her burning body onto my lap.

"Cold, Mommy," she whimpered, curling into me.

I wrapped my thin jacket around both of us, though I knew it wouldn't be enough. Nothing I had was ever enough for her.

"Tell me a story," she whispered against my chest, her breath coming in short, labored puffs.

"Once upon a time," I began, my voice shaking as I stroked her damp hair, "there was a little princess who lived in a castle."

Lily's fevered eyes looked up at me in the darkness. "Was she happy?"

I swallowed past the lump forming in my throat. "She was very happy, because she had everything she needed. A warm bed, good food, and people who loved her."

"Like us?" The innocent question, asked with such trust and hope, nearly shattered me.

The question broke my heart into a thousand pieces. "Yes, baby," I whispered, pressing a kiss to her burning forehead. "Like us."

But as I held her trembling, fevered body against mine in the cramped backseat of our broken-down car, I knew I was lying. We had nothing. No home, no money, no future stretching out before us.

In a few hours, she might be so sick that no amount of money could save her. And I would have failed her in every way that mattered.

I thought about Brett Graham's cold eyes, his cruel words, his impossible demands. Six months of playing dress-up for a man who saw me as nothing more than a business transaction. Six months of pretending to love someone who'd made it clear he despised me.

But also six months that would give Lily a chance at life.

When dawn broke, I was still sitting in that car, holding my daughter and trying to find the courage to save her life.

At exactly 9 AM, I stared at Brett's business card, my hands trembling as I dialed the number.

"Graham Industries," a crisp voice answered on the second ring.

I cleared my throat, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "This is Riley Plia. I need to speak with Mr. Graham."

"One moment, please."

The hold music was classical, expensive-sounding. Even his phone system was designed to intimidate. I shifted Lily in my arms, her fevered weight a reminder of why I was making this call.

"Riley." Brett's voice was smooth when he came on the line, unsurprised. "I wondered if you'd call."

My throat felt dry. "I have an answer."

"I'm listening."

I looked down at Lily, still sleeping fitfully in my arms, her cheeks flushed with fever. "Yes." The word came out as barely a whisper. "I accept your offer."

"Excellent." I could hear the satisfaction in his voice. "Marcus will pick you up in one hour. Be ready."

Panic fluttered in my chest. "Wait, I need to"

"One hour, Riley." His voice brooked no argument. "Don't be late."

The line went dead, leaving me staring at the phone in my shaking hands.

I sat in the car for another few minutes, trying to process what I'd just done. In one hour, my life would change forever. I'd enter Brett Graham's world, submit to his control, and pretend to be something I wasn't.

But Lily would live.

That's all that mattered.

When the black sedan pulled up exactly one hour later, I was ready. Marcus stepped out, professional and efficient.

"Miss Plia? Mr. Graham is waiting."

I buckled Lily into the car seat Marcus had brought, my hands shaking. This was it. No going back.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we pulled away from the hospital.

"To sign the contract," Marcus said, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. "Then to prepare you for tonight's charity gala."

"Tonight?"

"Mr. Graham doesn't believe in waiting."

*****

As we drove through Manhattan, I watched the city pass by outside the window. Somewhere in this maze of glass and steel, Brett Graham was waiting for me to sign away six months of my life.