"Ahhh..." I groaned as the blaring, over annoying sound of my alarm disturbed my sleep. It's only been four since I've gotten in the bed after my movie marathon last night. Knowing I could not get late for work, I get up even though that's the last thing I want to do. After freshening up, I brew a cup of coffee for myself and, in the meantime, I get ready for the office.

I, Amy Simpson, a 24-year-old, have the most predictable life anyone could ever have. I get up, go to the office where I work as a personal assistant for the vice president of R&R group, come back home to an empty house, have dinner alone and get back to bed. Pretty boring, right? But it seems like a good thing when you haven't seen stability in your early childhood. I grew up in an orphan and more often than not foster house, though no one could handle me for more than a few months.

Not wanting to start a new day on a sad note, I shake my head and check my look one last time in the mirror. I'm wearing a creamy white top that is neatly tucked inside my knee-length, black color, pencil skirt. After drinking my coffee and having a couple of sandwiches, I head to work. It takes usually 30 minutes to reach my office on a normal day but it seems today the traffic was not in my favor. By the time I park my car in the office basement parking, it is already five past nine.

I quickly make my way to the elevator and press for 20th floor where my office is located. When I reach there, an enormous crowd is present in front of the entry gate.

"Rita, what's going on?" I ask one of my coworker and good friend who approaches me as soon as she sees me.

"There is a notice stating that the City Bank is confiscating the office because of some debt company could not repay," Rita says, panic clear in her voice.

"Rita, don't panic. Let me call Mr. Arnold. I'm sure he will surely do something about it," I said, taking out my phone.

"We already called him. He confirmed the news and even apologized as he could not give us any prior notice nor could give us any compensation except for our this month's salary," she informed me regretfully.

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out except for a disheartening sigh. The situation came as a shock for all of us.

"What are you going to do?" Rita asks me, knowing I have no one to turn to in need except myself. We walked inside to clean our desk and get our belongings. I have worked here for 5 years and this has been my second home. Mr. Arnold has taken me under his wing when I knew nothing but I learned from there and today I was proud of where I was, but that doesn't matter anymore now, does it?

"I've some saving, but I'll start looking for a job soon, " I answer after a moment, placing the few photo frames in the box. Rita was married, so at least she had some she could lean on. I didn't.

"I'll see you around, Rita. I should get going," I said, offering a smile.

"You take care and if you need anything, call me," Rita said as she embraced me.

"Sure," I say, even though I know I'm never going to do anything like that.

When I got home, I placed my office bag on the center table before going to have some water.

What are we going to do now, Amy?

I have some saving but that won't last long because I've got my house loan to pay otherwise I would risk my home, that's not something I could afford.

"We will find a way, Amy," I say to myself before going into the living room and taking out my laptop to search for a job that paid, if not more than equal, to what this one did.

An advertisement popped on the app I was using. I closed it, but not less than five minutes later, it popped again. I noted it. On a royal blue colored background, cutout of a bride holding a bouquet was the first thing that caught my eye.

The heading read "BRIDE CONTEST" and I went to close it again, but my curiosity got the best out of me. A billionaire was organizing a contest on a national level to search for his future wife. There was a long list of requirements on the side of the post.

"Who the heck search for a life partner like this?" I ask to myself, laughing at my laptop screen.

Just as I was about to close it, my eyes dropped to the other side where the different stage and prizes were mentioned.

Contestants who qualify for round 3 will be awarded $ 50k.

Top 10 contestants will be awarded $ 100k.

Top 5 contestants will be awarded $ 500k.

Top 3 awarded will be announced after semi finale.

"Man's got some serious money, dude," I say out loud.

I swept one last glance at the post before closing and getting to my job search. One after another I look at another but no job has a good pay or if has I'm under qualified for it. The "BRIDE CONTEST" advertisement once again pops on my screen.

Come on, Amy, you can apply too.

My subconscious mind suggests.

Don't even think about it. You don't want a marriage.

My conscious mind denies.

Who said you have to win it? It's just round 3 we have to reach.

My subconscious has a point, don't you think so? There is no way I'm going to win because let's accept it, nor do I've got any supermodel looks, nor do I'm highly educated, the essentials of being a wife of a billionaire. Still, round 3 can't be that difficult to reach. I was superconfused about my action so I did what I always did. Tossed a coin.

"Heads to enter, tails to not," I say as I hold the coin on the centre finger. I flip it and it falls to the floor.

After taking a deep breath, I look down. Heads of the coin stare back at me. Looks like I'm applying for the "BRIDE CONTEST".