Emergency Call
Bella pov
The sound of cutlery scraping against the surface of the table and the chatter of patrons filled the air as I, Bella Thompson, cleaned up a table at the diner. My arms ached from hours of work, and the lingering smell of grease and coffee clung to my uniform.
I glanced at the oversized clock on the wall, its hands stuck in the wrong position half an hour left before I could finally leave for home. Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, clutching it tightly, my fingers crossed that it was good news.
It wasn't.
"Hello?" I answered, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Ms. Thompson? This is Officer Martinez from the state prison."
My heart sank. "Is my brother okay?"
"I'm afraid something has happened. Your brother was involved in a fight. He's in the infirmary now."
For a moment, the world swayed. I gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles turning white from the pressure. "How bad is it?"
"He'll recover, but… Ms. Thompson, your brother's safety can't be guaranteed if he stays in the general population."
I closed my eyes, fighting back tears. "What can I do?"
"A transfer to a safer facility might help, but that requires legal action. I suggest speaking with a lawyer."
The call ended, leaving me feeling hollow. A lawyer. Right. With what money?
I finished my shift in a daze, my mind racing. As I hung up my apron, a familiar voice called out.
"Bella! Got a minute?"
I turned around to see Jonathan, my best friend since high school, standing at the entrance of the diner. He was dressed in an expensive black suit that seemed out of place in the worn booths and flickering neon lights.
"Jona? What are you doing here?"
He grinned, but something in his eyes seemed off. "Can't a guy visit his best friend at work?"
I raised an eyebrow. "At 10 PM on a Tuesday? Spill it, mister."
Jonathan's smile faltered as he glanced around the nearly empty diner. "Let's have a seat. I have something important to discuss with you."
We found a booth, and my tired feet thanked me for the rest.
"So?" I prompted.
Jonathan took a deep breath. "I have a… proposition for you."
"Okay...?"
"It's about my boss, Samuel Asher."
I frowned. "The rich guy you're always complaining about?"
"Yeah, him. Look, he's in a bind. He needs to get married to inherit his grandfather's company."
"And this involves me how?"
Jonathan leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He needs a wife. Temporarily. For show."
I blinked. "Can you hear yourself out?"
"Marry my boss for $50,000."
The words hung in the air between us. I opened my mouth and struggled to close it for a few seconds.
"I don't think you're serious with what you're saying," I finally said.
"Dead serious. It would just be for two years, maybe. You'd sign a contract, play the part of his wife, and then divorce. Easy money."
My mind reeled. Fifty thousand dollars. That kind of money could save my brother, pay for the best lawyers, and get him transferred to a safer place. But…
"Jona, that's crazy. I can't just marry some stranger for money. It's… it's wrong."
Jonathan's face fell. "I know it sounds bad, but Bella, think about it. This could solve all your problems. Your brother "
"Don't," I cut him off. "Don't use my brother to convince me to do something illegal."
"It's not illegal, just… morally gray."
I stood up, shaking my head. "I can't, Jona. I'm sorry, but I can't."
Jonathan didn't push. He just nodded, looking disappointed. "Okay. But if you change your mind…"
"No, I won't," I replied with determination. But even as I said it, a small voice at the back of my head wanted to know, "What if?"
I stepped out of the diner, the outside air refreshing after being indoors for so long. Thoughts raced through my mind. The money could save my brother. But at what cost to my integrity?
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice the shiny black car parked next to me until the window smoothly lowered.
"Hey you," a deep voice called out.
I turned, startled. My eyes fell on the most beautiful man I had ever seen, tall, dark-haired, with a sharp jawline and deep blue eyes. But those eyes were icy, business-like.
"How can I help you?" I asked, my suspicion rising.
The man smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I think you can. You're Bella Thompson, aren't you?"
My heart raced. How did he know my name?
"Who are you?"
"Samuel Asher," he said smoothly, gesturing with a practiced ease.
My breath hitched in my throat. This was Jonathan's boss, the man who wanted to rent a wife.
Samuel looked me up and down, studying me intently with those dark eyes. "So, you must be the woman who is supposed to be my wife," he said in a light, yet dangerous tone.
I stood frozen on the sidewalk, unsure whether to fight or run away. The night suddenly felt much colder and far too long.
"I… I don't know what you're talking about," I stammered, taking a step back.
Samuel laughed, but the sound was cold and hard. "Come now, Ms. Thompson. Let's not play games. Jonathan told me he spoke to you about our… arrangement."
My eyes narrowed. "And I said 'no' to him. I don't want your money or your fake marriage."
"I'm quite sure about that." Samuel tilted his head, asking, "Are you sure about that? Fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money. It could solve a lot of problems."
My thoughts immediately turned to my brother, recovering in the prison infirmary. I shook my head to focus.
"My problems are none of your business," I said, my tone firm.
Samuel's eyes glinted. "On the contrary, Ms. Thompson. I make it my business to know everything about potential… investments."
The way he said "investments" made my skin crawl. I crossed my arms, suddenly feeling exposed.
"Hey, Mr. Asher, I don't know what Jonathan told you, but I'm not interested. There are other girls out there who can be your pretend wife."
Samuel stepped closer, his gaze steady. "That's a no-no. There is no one else, Ms. Thompson. You're perfect for this role, young, beautiful, and with a tragic story to tell. The board will admire someone like you as my wife."
I blinked. "Backstory? What are you talking about?"
"Your brother, of course. The wrongfully convicted man fighting for justice. It's very touching."
Anger flared in my chest. "How dare you? My brother's situation isn't some story for you to exploit!"
Samuel held up a hand. "I apologize. That was insensitive of me. But consider this, Ms. Thompson. With the resources at my disposal, I could ensure your brother gets the best legal representation. A fair trial. A chance at freedom."
My resolve wavered. The offer was so tempting that it scared me.
"Why me?" I asked, my voice trembling as I whispered the last part. "Why don't you just find a woman who wants to marry you?"
Samuel's face darkened. "Love is a liability in my world, Ms. Thompson. I need a wife who understands that this is a business arrangement, nothing more."
I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I can't do this."
Samuel nodded, not seeming shocked. "I get your point. It's a lot to think about. Why don't you take the night to sleep on it? I'll send my driver to pick you up tomorrow afternoon. We'll have lunch, and I'll explain the details."
Before I could protest, Samuel handed me a sleek business card. "Think about it, Ms. Thompson. This could change your life and your brother's."
With that, the window rolled up, and the car drove off into the night, leaving me standing alone on the sidewalk. I stared at the card in my hand, Samuel Asher's name embossed on it, his phone number boldly written on the back.
Fifty thousand dollars. A chance to save my brother. A marriage to a man I didn't know or trust.
As I walked home, my mind raced with possibilities and fears. I thought of throwing the card away, of forgetting this crazy scheme. But as I ascended the stairs to my small apartment, I couldn't stop thinking about it.
I dropped onto my bed, utterly weary, but sleep wouldn't come. The business card lay on my nightstand, a re
minder of the possibilities and the dangers. As I drifted off, one thought echoed in my mind.
What if this was the only chance I had to rescue my brother?