The morning started like any other—ordinary, almost annoyingly so.

The hospital bench was cold beneath Arya as she sat hunched over, staring at the crumpled piece of paper in her trembling hands.

She read the words over and over, yet they didn't seem real.

"Diagnosis: Acute Myeloid Leukemia."

Her breath hitched as she recalled the doctor's voice, his tone gentle but firm.

"Miss Light, I'm sorry. The results confirm that you have leukemia."

Leukemia.

The word sent a sharp, twisting pain through her chest, but it wasn't just the disease threatening to break her. It was everything else.

No family to support her. No one to turn to.

The world felt impossibly heavy.

Then, her phone buzzed.

A distraction. A lifeline.

She grabbed it, hoping—praying—that it was a message of comfort. But the second she unlocked the screen, her blood ran cold.

Bank Alert: $67,540 withdrawn.

Her heart pounded violently as she scrolled down. There were multiple transactions, each one draining her savings until the balance was nearly empty.

"No, no, no," Arya whispered, her fingers trembling as she dialed Nathan's number.

Her boyfriend. The man she had trusted. The only person she had left.

The call rang. Once. Twice. Then—

Call declined.

Her breath caught. She tried again.

Call declined.

Panic surged through her veins. She called again and again, but each attempt was met with the same cruel rejection.

Her head spun, her breath coming in short gasps.

Then, a thought struck her—the house.

No, not his house. Her house. The one she paid for. The one she had rented in his name because he said he wanted to focus on his business.

Her hands clenched into fists.

She needed answers.

Flagging down a cab, she barely managed to give the driver the address before sinking into the seat, her body trembling.

By the time she reached the quiet suburban neighborhood, her mind was a storm of emotions. Anger, fear, betrayal.

She stepped out of the cab, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs. The house was dark except for the faint glow coming from the back.

Nathan wasn't answering her calls, but he was home.

She clenched her fists and strode up the steps, knocking hard.

"Nathan!" she called, her voice strained. "Open the door!"

Silence.

She knocked again, harder this time. "Nathan, I swear to God—"

Still nothing.

Her gut twisted. Something wasn't right.

Stepping back, she moved around the house toward the backyard. The faint hum of voices grew louder, and as she turned the corner, her breath caught in her throat.

There, on the pool deck, was Nathan.

With another woman.

Not just any woman.

Elara.

Her adoptive sister.

Arya's legs nearly gave out beneath her.

Elara's delicate fingers traced over Nathan's chest as she whispered something into his ear, making him chuckle. He wasn't just cheating—he was enjoying it.

"Are you serious?" Arya's voice broke as she stepped forward, eyes burning with unshed tears.

Nathan's head snapped up, his eyes widening in shock.

"Arya—"

Elara, on the other hand, simply smirked.

"You weren't supposed to see this," Elara said, her voice laced with mock pity. "But since you're here…" She stretched, deliberately resting her head on Nathan's shoulder.

Arya's vision blurred with rage. "You're sleeping with my boyfriend? My fiancé?"

Nathan ran a hand through his hair, stepping toward her. "Listen, babe, I was going to tell you—"

"Tell me what? That you're a lying piece of garbage?"

Arya's breathing grew erratic as she grabbed Nathan's phone from the table. "There must be a way to fix this," she mumbled, frantically swiping through his messages.

Then she saw them.

Texts between Nathan and his best friend.

Nathan: She's almost out of money. I'll leave once I clear the rest.

Friend: Damn, man. Cold.

Nathan: Women like her are easy. A little love, and they'll give you everything.

Arya's hands shook so badly she nearly dropped the phone.

Her whole body felt numb.

Nathan sighed, reaching for the phone. "Arya, don't make this a big deal—"

"Don't make this a big deal?" Her voice cracked, raw and filled with betrayal. "You stole from me. Used me. And now you're running off with her?"

Nathan's eyes darkened. "Give me the phone, Arya."

She shook her head, stepping back. "You don't get to walk away from this."

Nathan's patience snapped. In one swift move, he grabbed her wrist and yanked the phone away.

"Enough!" he snarled.

Arya struggled, her vision blurring with hot, angry tears. "You're a monster!"

"Cry all you want," Nathan scoffed. "I'm done with you."

Before Arya could respond, he shoved her.

Her balance slipped.

The world tilted.

A rush of cold engulfed her as she crashed into the pool.

The icy water stole her breath, panic surging as she flailed, trying to resurface.

Above her, she could hear laughter.

Elara's voice. "Let's go, baby."

Through the water, Arya saw them walk away.

Leaving her.

Alone.

She barely remembered pulling herself out of the water.

Drenched, shivering, gasping for air—Arya ran.

She wasn't thinking. She just ran.

Her legs burned as she chased after them, her vision blurred by tears.

"Nathan!" she screamed. "You can't do this!"

She barely saw the headlights.

A deafening honk.

The screech of tires.

Pain exploded through her body.

Then, darkness.

When Arya woke, everything was hazy.

White walls. A steady beeping sound.

The faint scent of antiseptic.

She was in the hospital.

Her throat was dry, her body aching all over.

Then, a voice. Deep. Smooth. familiar.

"You're awake."

Her gaze flickered to the man seated by her bedside.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. A strikingly handsome face, strong jawline, dark intense eyes. He exuded power, authority, control.

And something about him felt… familiar.

"I saw what happened," the man said, watching her closely. "You ran into the street."

Arya swallowed, her throat raw. "Who…?"

He leaned forward slightly, his presence overwhelming. "Marx Maverick."

Arya's heart stuttered.

Her boss.

The man she had admired from a distance for years.

"Should I call someone for you?" he asked, his voice softer than she expected.

Arya stared at him, then let out a bitter, broken laugh. "I have no one."

Marx studied her for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. "What can I do to make this right?"

The words left her lips before she could think.

"Marry me."

A heavy silence filled the room.

Then, without a word, Marx stood up.

And walked away.

Arya watched him leave, her chest hollow.

She never saw him again.

fate brought them back together.