Be My Wife, The Bell's Bargain

Chapter 1

The red paper was still there.

Celine Taylor stood in front of her little shop in Brooklyn and stared at it.

Last Notice

Celine Clothing: 10 Days to Vacate

That paper had been taped there five days ago, which meant she had five days left before she lost the only thing she and her mother had ever built.

She tried the door, and it opened. It was a surprise that the landlord hadn't changed the lock. Maybe he had been lenient.

Stepping inside, she could see her mother's sewing machine and the dresses they made together. The air smelled of old fabric and machine oil. Inside a glass cabinet on the right were design sketches made by them. Celine ran her finger slowly along the glass, the way her mother used to check a hem for dust. Her throat tightened. She had no zeal to do anything, so she stepped out of the store and locked it.

Was this really how she was going to lose her store? She sighed.

Twenty- one years old, and Celine felt like sixty.

She checked her bank app. She knew what it would show, but she checked anyway.

Balance: $47.42

She locked the screen and pressed the phone against her chest, as if that could make the number grow.

Ring. Ring.

She flinched. Hilltop Hospital again. Her thumb hovered over the screen for three rings before she answered.

"Hello, is this Miss Taylor? Regarding your mother's bill for last month's... Since there's no insurance on file, the balance has to be..."

Celine's nails dug into her palm. Three months. Her mother had been lying in that bed in a coma for three months, and every day the bill grew while the machines beeped on.

She ended the call before the woman could finish.

Ding!

A new notification popped up on her old phone. The screen flickered sharply. It was from the legal firm representing the bank she had taken the loan from.

The subject line clearly showed: Final Notice: Asset Liquidation Schedule.

Her body turned stiff. They were no longer warning her; they wanted to execute what they had warned her about.

Celine opened it with trembling fingers. $350,000. That was what she owed. The document carefully detailed the exact date and time her store would be seized, along with her designs and equipment.

The words swam. Her breath came out in short, ugly wheezes, and her knees gave way. She slumped to the ground, and the pavement was cold and gritty against her palms. This was the end. She had finally given up.

A woman passing by quickly ran up to her and helped her up. She sat Celine down on the chair across from the store and handed her a bottle of water.

Celine took the bottle and drank a gulp before handing it back.

"Thank you," she managed to say.

"What's wrong? I saw you slumped on the ground," the woman asked gently.

Celine closed her eyes and didn't give a reply. She had started from nothing, and now the little she had built was crumbling away before her very eyes.

The woman didn't push. She just sat beside her and began to hum, soft and low, a tune that Celine couldn't place. She only knew it made her chest ache in a way she couldn't explain, and her shaking hands slowly went still.

"What about your family or friends?" the woman asked softly. "Maybe I can give them a call to pick you up, or would you rather call them yourself?"

Celine slowly opened her eyes and looked at the woman. She let out a bitter laugh. "Family? Friends? Nah, I've got none of that."

Her father had walked out on her and her mother a long time ago, and she had learned to struggle without him. Her only family now were her mother and her mother's sister. Her mother was in the hospital, and her aunt was there looking after her. Celine didn't want to burden her with more problems.

"So you are all alone?" the woman continued. "But even if you are, you should at least have a friend."

"No. I don't have time for that." Celine waved her hand, then looked at the woman with interest. The humming had stopped, and she found herself missing it. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Oh, my name is Lina. What's yours?"

"Celine. You know what? I'll catch up with you later," she replied, standing up.

"Oh... okay. See you another time," Lina answered.

"Yeah," Celine murmured, and walked away. Behind her, the soft humming started again. Her destination was Hilltop Hospital, as she needed to see her mom.

She didn't know that a pair of eyes was watching her. From a black car parked down the road, someone had been following her since she left her shop.

"You have four months, Bryan."

Those cold, short words boomed in Bryan's head, causing him to hit his head angrily. They were the words his grandfather had spoken early this morning, before he came to the company. The bitter taste of the black coffee he had forced down at breakfast still lingered on his tongue.

He had just four months to get married, or the shares he possessed would go back to the board.

The office was too quiet. The air conditioner hummed softly, and the city far below was only a faint murmur behind the glass.

Knock, knock.

The door opened with a soft click, and a man in his late twenties came in holding some documents. His polished shoes squeaked faintly on the marble floor.

"Mr. Bryan, the documents you told me to print yesterday are..."

"Drop them on the table and leave," Bryan cut him short.

"Oh... Okay, sir." The papers landed on the mahogany table with a dry slap, and the smell of fresh ink drifted up. Harry turned to leave.

"Harry," Bryan called coldly.

"Ye... yes, sir," Harry answered fearfully. Whenever Bryan called his name like that, it spelled trouble.

"How am I supposed to get married within four months?"

Being perceptive and able to quickly piece things together, Harry got a rough idea of what Bryan was talking about. He had expected it, but not so soon.

"Sir, because the time frame is short, I suggest that you talk to your grandfather and ask him to be more lenient," Harry said honestly.

"And you think he'll be lenient?" Bryan barked so loudly that Harry took two steps backward, and the glass of water on the desk trembled.

The office went quiet again. Even the air conditioner seemed to hold its breath. Bryan looked at Harry's tight shoulders and the way his fingers kept twitching at his sides, and something in his chest twisted. Harry had never once let him down. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long breath.

"Sorry," he said, in a lower voice. "That wasn't meant for you."

Harry blinked, surprised. "It's okay, sir."

"Get yourself a coffee on me," Bryan muttered, not quite meeting his eyes. "What's my schedule?"

"Erm... yes, sir, you have a meeting with the board members at 11:00 a.m.," Harry answered softly, a small, relieved smile tugging at his lips before he hid it.

Oh! He would have to deal with those old fools after his grandfather had spoiled his morning, he thought inwardly. He knew they were desperate to take the position from him, but he would never allow it, and he needed to take action.

The wall clock ticked on, steady and unbothered.

His grandfather was serious this time, and the board was already waiting to drag him down.

A contract marriage. The thought...