The sterile smell of the hospital filled Elena's lungs as she sat in the waiting room, her fingers absently tracing the edges of the obituary her father had left behind. The grief still felt fresh, raw. Her father had always been a complicated man: someone who had loved her, yet made reckless choices. Choices that led to his downfall.

She stared at the clock, watching the seconds tick by in slow motion. She had been here for hours, overseeing the paperwork, the procedures. Nothing could prepare her for the weight of finality. Her father was gone, and all that remained were the debts he had left behind.

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, her pulse immediately quickening as she recognized the number. The boss.

"Elena." His voice was low, smooth, like a dark velvet curtain draped over every word. "How are the arrangements going?"

Elena swallowed. She knew the answer, but the words lodged in her throat. She forced herself to speak, trying to steady her voice. "I'm handling everything... It's just... a lot to deal with right now."

"I'm sure. But there's something else you need to handle." The calmness of his tone made her stomach churn. "Your father's debt. You know the terms. It's time to pay up."

Her hand tightened around the phone. "The debt... I know. How much was it again?"

"Six million."

The number hit her like a punch to the gut. Six million dollars. Her father had always told her not to worry, that he would take care of everything. She hadn't known the full extent of his dealings. She had never imagined he'd left her with such a massive weight to carry.

Her fingers trembled as she pulled up her bank balance. The screen was empty—zero dollars. Not even a penny.

She closed her eyes, biting back the panic rising in her chest. "I don't have the money. I just... I don't know how I can—"

"I don't care how, Elena." The voice on the other end sharpened. "You have one week. Or else I'll come to collect. I expect results."

Then he hung up.

Elena sat frozen, her fingers numb around the edges of her phone. Six million dollars. The number echoed in her mind like a cruel taunt. One week wasn't enough. Not for that kind of money.

She glanced at her bank balance again as if hoping the screen would suddenly show a miracle. Zero. All she had was an empty account.

Her father's debts had consumed everything she once possessed, including the ten million dollars she earned two years ago. The memory came rushing back like a cold wind slicing through her thoughts.

Nathaniel Cross. The man who had changed her life. The CEO of Cross Firm, a name that carries power and weight in every corner of the world. Two years ago, she had signed a contract to be his wife for a year. Ten million dollars in exchange for living as his carefully crafted illusion of a partner. It was a year of luxury and cold indifference, a business deal masked as a marriage.

But that money hadn't lasted. Most of it had gone into paying for her father's medical bills, clearing some of his older debts, and keeping them afloat. Six million still remained. Six million she didn't have.

Her chest tightened as despair clawed at her. She had no friends to turn to, no family left. No one except… him.

Elena's hand trembled as she dialed Nathaniel's number, the one she had sworn never to use. He had made it clear when the contract ended that she shouldn't contact him. But desperation left her with no choice. She held her breath as the line rang.

It connected, but it wasn't his voice that answered.

"Cross Firm, Mr. Cross's office. This is Mr. Stewart speaking."

Elena faltered. "I need to speak to Mr. Cross. It's urgent."

There was a brief pause before the secretary's tone turned cold. "Miss Reed, Mr. Cross has no time for personal matters, especially not for you."

His words stung, but she bit her lip and forced herself to respond. "Please. I know he's busy, but I need to see him. Just five minutes."

"Five minutes to disrupt his day? He's moved on, Miss Reed. I suggest you do the same."

Her voice cracked as she pleaded, "Please, I wouldn't call if it wasn't important. Just let me talk to him. I'll explain everything."

There was a heavy sigh on the other end. "One hour. He's free for exactly five minutes. Don't waste his time."

The line went dead before she could thank him.

Elena stared at the phone, her pulse racing. In an hour, she'd be facing Nathaniel Cross again. She just hoped he wouldn't turn her away.

Before she could respond, the line went dead.

Elena hurried through the hospital corridor, her steps faltering as a nurse called her name.

"Miss Reed, we still need you to sign these forms for the discharge. And the mortuary arrangements. Have you finalized them?"

Her heart sank. She had hoped to leave quietly, but the procedures seemed endless. Nodding quickly, she took the clipboard, her fingers trembling as she filled out the paperwork. Minutes turned to hours, and by the time she was finally free, two hours had passed since her meeting with Nathaniel Cross was supposed to start.

She flagged down a cab and rushed to the towering Cross Firm building. Stepping inside, she felt the weight of every glance sent her way. Whispers floated through the air as employees discreetly exchanged looks.

"Who is she?"

"She doesn't look like she belongs here."

Elena lowered her head, clutching her bag tightly. She knew why. Two years ago, she had been transformed into Nathaniel's perfect wife—designer clothes, flawless makeup, an air of sophistication. Now, in her plain jeans and simple blouse, she was unrecognizable.

The receptionist barely glanced up as she asked to see Nathaniel.

"You're late, Miss Reed," the woman said, her tone clipped. "He's busy now. Take a seat."

Elena sighed, sinking into one of the plush lobby chairs. Minutes crawled by, stretching into an agonizing hour. Her stomach churned with nerves as she waited, her mind running over every possible outcome of the conversation she needed to have.

Finally, the receptionist gestured for her to follow. "You're lucky. He's stepping out now. If you hurry, you can catch him in the elevator."

Heart pounding, Elena dashed toward the elevators just as the doors slid open. There he was—Nathaniel Cross.

He stood tall, clad in a perfectly tailored suit, his face an unreadable mask. His cold gray eyes swept over her briefly before returning to the papers in his hand.

Elena stepped inside, her breath catching as the doors closed. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her pulse raced as memories of their past year together flooded her.

Nathaniel's gaze flicked up, irritation flashing across his face. "You've wasted enough of my time today. If you don't have anything to say, don't waste this moment too."

Her cheeks burned as the elevator dinged, signaling his floor. He stepped out without a backward glance, his voice cutting through the silence. "Find my secretary if you need another appointment."

The doors closed again, leaving Elena alone, her chest tightening with the weight of his indifference.