"You don't have a choice, Ms. Kim," Aaron Yu said, his voice calm yet sharp.
Claire sat stiffly in the chair, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap. Across from her, Aaron lounged casually, the epitome of control. His piercing eyes bore into hers, unrelenting, as if peeling away every layer of resistance she tried to muster.
Her jaw tightened, her resolve flickering under the weight of his gaze. "I've already made myself clear. I'm not going to do it," she murmured, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.
Aaron chuckled—a low, sound that curled around her like smoke. "You think you have the luxury of saying no?" he said, his tone almost amused. "I know you desperately need the money. You're... drowning,"
Her chest tightened, but she refused to let him see her falter. "If you think I'll lower my principles for money, you're wrong," she shot back, her tone sharp with defiance. "I won't marry your half-brother just to ruin his life for your gain. It's insane"
Aaron's smirk widened. "Insane? No, dear. Leon stole everything that should have been mine. I'm just giving him a little taste of his own medicine. He should know how it feels to lose everything. And since I can't destroy him outright, that's where you come in." His voice grew colder with each word.
Claire rose abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "I'm sorry, but I can't help you. Find someone else."
Aaron's expression darkened, his smirk vanishing like a blade slipping into its sheath. When he spoke, his words were low and measured, but they cut deeper than any shout could. "If you don't, your mom will die."
The words slammed into her, rooting her to the spot. Slowly, she turned back to him, her face pale.
Aaron leaned forward, clasping his hands as he observed her reaction. "I know about the hospital bills piling up," he said, his tone almost conversational, though his eyes gleamed with triumph. "You can barely keep her alive as it is. And let's face it—you're running out of time."
Claire's hands clenched into trembling fists. "I'll find a way," she said, her voice cracking but laced with determination.
For a fleeting moment, something flickered in Aaron's expression—curiosity, perhaps, or even doubt—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. "Find a way?" he echoed, his tone deceptively light. "Do you know how many people say that to themselves? Some of them even believe it. But when the walls close in, they all find themselves at the same crossroads."
"I'm not like them. I'll figure something out," she snapped, clutching her bag.
Aaron's smile deepened, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I hope you do," he said, his voice almost... sincere. "But when you don't—when reality becomes too much—call me." He slid the sleek black card across the table, his fingers lingering on it for a second too long.
Claire snatched the card without a word and stormed out of the restaurant, each step fueled by her anger and desperation.
Her heart hammered as memories of her mother flooded her thoughts—Luna's laughter as she taught Claire how to bake cookies; her warm voice cheering Claire on through school recitals and exams. Her mother had given everything to raise her, and now Claire couldn't even save her.
"I'll find a way," she whispered again, this time to herself.
She spent the next few days working tirelessly to prove her words true. She called every contact she could think of, applied for loans, even tried to sell her small collection of prized possessions online. But each attempt was met with rejection, indifference, or outright failure.
The calls to potential sponsors were the hardest. "We're sorry, Ms. Kim," one manager had said. "We only fund long-term patients with a high probability of recovery."
It was a punch to the gut. As much as Claire hated to admit it, Luna's chances were slim.
At the hospital, Claire sat outside her mother's room, staring blankly at the card in her hand. It was already the third day since she kept trying, her eyes raw from lack of sleep. Her phone vibrated with another rejection from her agent, and her head dropped into her hands.
Her gaze drifted to the black card, taunting her with its sleek, elegant simplicity.
Ever since Luna's leukemia diagnosis, she had fought to keep her afloat—part-time jobs, borrowed money, cutting every corner possible. She had told herself she could handle it. But now, as the doctor's words echoed in her ears, the weight of reality crushed her.
"The free clinical trial has ended. Moving forward, the cost will be three million pounds a month," the doctor had said gently, his eyes filled with pity.
She had pleaded, offered the one million pounds she had saved, but the doctor's response was unwavering: "You'll need at least two million pounds more by the end of the week, or we'll have to stop her treatment."
Claire gripped the card tighter, her nails biting into her palm. Luna had given her everything—a home, an education, unconditional love. And now, she was fading, each breath weaker than the last.
Closing her eyes, Claire thought of the nights her mother would hum her lullabies, the warmth of her embrace when she was scared. She had always been her strength. Now Claire needed to be hers.
Aaron's words echoed in her mind: "When the walls close in, they all find themselves at the same crossroads."
Her fingers trembled as she finally dialed the number. The line connected almost instantly.
"Claire," Aaron said smoothly, as if he had been waiting.
Claire closed her eyes, tears spilling over as her grip on the phone tightened, her throat tightened. "I'll do it," she said, barely above a whisper, the words tasting like ash on her tongue.
There was a pause on the other end, just long enough to make her wonder if he was surprised. Then, his voice came through, calm but edged with something unreadable. "Good choice. Your mother's care will be taken care of starting tomorrow. Meet me at the café at noon. Welcome to your new life. You won't regret it".
The line went dead before she could respond.
Claire stared at the phone in her hand, her chest heaving with suppressed sobs. She had made her choice.
She wasn't doing this for herself. She was doing it for Luna.
But as the weight of her decision settled over her, one thought refused to leave her mind:
What have I done?