Pregnant By Contract: The Billionaire's Uncertain Heir

Ginny’s POV

“You leave here, she dies.”

I kept hearing those words even after the man who said them had walked away. They followed me out of the café, into the rain, all the way back to my own thoughts. And the worst part? He was totally  right.

Earlier today, I’d stood in a hospital hallway, watching my little sister through the glass like she was something fragile I wasn’t allowed to touch. The hallway smelled antiseptic and something metallic underneath it, the kind of smell that made you very aware that this building was full of people fighting to stay alive.

Holly was connected to a machines. Monitors. Drips. Tubes that breathed for her when she couldn’t manage on her own. She looked so small in that bed, like she’d been shrinking since she got here, like the illness was slowly taking up more space and leaving less room for her. I pressed my palm flat against the glass and I stayed until a nurse asked me, gently, to please take a seat.

I spent hours at the hospital before I made myself leave. I didn't even know where I was going. The rain stopped and then continued for the second time.

The doctor’s words kept circling back, the same way a bad smell does when you think you've escaped it. “Two million for the transplant, Miss Adams. Without it, your sister has days, not weeks."

Those words won't leave me. The more I kept trying to forget about it, the more it kept playing in my head. They keep playing on a loop inside my head, over and over, like a song I never asked to learn. I don’t even remember deciding to go to the café. I just looked up and I was sitting in a corner booth with a cup of coffee going cold in front of me and my phone face-up on the table, the screen dark.

The café was small and mostly empty. Rain hammered the windows in sheets, turning the street outside into a blur of gray. I've been sitting here for about two hours staring at my phone, watching Holly's face in my memory pale, still, hooked up to more machines than I could count. My little sister was dying. The only family I have left. Lying in that hospital bed like she's already halfway gone.

My phone screen lights up. I almost didn't look. Then I did.

“Critical update: Holly's condition is worsening. Surgery is required within 72 hours.”

My hands started to shake. I pressed them flat on the table to make them stop, but they won't. Two million dollars. That's a lot of money. My salary for the next fifteen years combined wouldn't touch that. I have no savings. No assets. No one left to call. I've already called everyone I know.

At this point, I'm out of options.

I grabbed my bag. I need to move, to do something, because sitting here is making me feel like I'm already watching her die.

That's when a shadow fell over the table. At first I didn't look.

After about 7 seconds, I looked up ready to excuse myself and leave. But then a voice stopped me cold.

"You leave here, she dies."

I froze immediately.

He sat down without asking. No greeting, no apology for invading my space. He set a leather folder on the table between us and folded  his hands like a man who had all the time in the world. I stared at him. Dark suit, sharp jaw, eyes like two pieces of flint. The kind that could spark a fire or leave you bleeding. I didn’t know this man from anywhere. I have never seen him in my life.