A Gambler: The Billionaire's Wife

Maya's hands trembled as she clutched the crumpled betting slip. She stared at the screen in the dim corner of the betting shop, watching as the last horse she had bet on stumbled across the finish line far behind the pack. Her heart sank. That was her last hope-the last chance to turn everything around.

It had started innocently enough. A small bet here and there, fueled by the hope of pulling her family out of the financial pit they had fallen into after her father's illness. But hope had quickly turned into desperation. She needed to win big to pay off the growing debt and save their home. Instead, she had only dug herself deeper.

"Two weeks," the loan shark had sneered the day before. "You either pay up, or you'll wish you had." His words echoed in her mind, making her chest tighten. Two weeks. And she had just lost the last of her money.

As Maya stepped out of the shop into the cold evening air, her phone buzzed. A number she didn't recognize flashed on the screen. Reluctantly, she answered.

"Miss Ayers?" a clipped male voice asked.

Maya hesitated, gripping the phone tighter. "Yes, who's this?"

"This is Jonathan Hayes, calling on behalf of Mr. Ethan Carmichael. He's requested a meeting with you regarding... your recent financial situation."

Her stomach flipped. Ethan Carmichael-the name was impossible to miss. Billionaire. CEO of Carmichael Enterprises. A man whose face was splashed across business magazines and gossip columns alike. Why on earth would someone like him know about her?

"This has to be a mistake," she stammered.

"It's no mistake, Miss Ayers. Mr. Carmichael is aware of your circumstances. He believes he may have a solution to your predicament."

Maya's pulse quickened. A solution? It sounded too good to be true. Yet, what choice did she have? The debt collectors were circling, and she had no other way out. "Where and when?"

Jonathan rattled off an address-one of the city's most exclusive skyscrapers-and a time for later that evening. Maya barely managed to thank him before the call ended.

By the time she arrived at the towering glass building, her nerves were frayed. Clad in her best outfit-a blazer and slacks she had bought years ago and barely wore-she felt utterly out of place. The lobby was all marble floors and chandeliers, a world away from the cramped apartment she shared with her mother and siblings.

After being escorted to the top floor, she stepped into a spacious, minimalist office. The city lights twinkled through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glow over the sleek black furniture.

And there he was. Ethan Carmichael.

He stood by the window, hands in his pockets, his tailored suit fitting him like a second skin. When he turned, his piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, assessing her with a calm intensity that made her want to squirm. He was as intimidating as the rumors suggested, his chiseled features set in a mask of cool detachment.

"Maya Ayers," he said, his deep voice smooth and deliberate. "Thank you for coming."

She swallowed hard and nodded, unsure of how to respond.

"Please, sit," he said, gesturing to a chair across from his desk.

As she settled into the chair, he lowered himself into the one opposite her. "You're probably wondering why you're here," he began, his expression unreadable.

"That would be an understatement," she replied, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

He allowed the faintest hint of a smile to tug at the corner of his lips before continuing. "I'm aware of your situation, Miss Ayers. You owe a substantial sum of money to... less-than-reputable individuals. You're in a predicament, to put it lightly."

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she couldn't deny it. "How do you know about that?"

"I make it my business to know things," he said simply. "And when I see an opportunity, I seize it. Which brings us to why you're here."

She leaned forward, her heart pounding. "What kind of opportunity?"

Ethan rested his elbows on the desk, his fingers steepled. "I need a wife."

Maya blinked; sure, she had misheard. "I'm sorry... what?"

"A wife," he repeated, his tone calm and matter-of-fact. "My grandfather's will stipulates that I must be married within the next three months in order to retain control of Carmichael Enterprises. I don't have time for romance or the complications that come with it, which is why I need someone willing to enter into a contract marriage."

"And you think I'm that someone?"

"You're desperate," he said bluntly. "You need money, and I need a wife. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement. In exchange for one year of marriage, I'll pay off your debts and provide you with a monthly stipend that should more than cover your family's expenses."

Maya's mind raced. This had to be a joke-a cruel, elaborate prank. But the look in Ethan's eyes told her he wasn't joking. "Why are you sounding authoritative and also trying to take an advantage of my situation?" Maya asked. "Taking advantage of your situation you say?" Seeing her nodding her head in affirmation. "You should take advantage of mine, I think we both need each other, we are both taking one another's advantage" Ethan said jokingly.

"I'm not asking for your answer now," he said, sensing her hesitation. "Take 48 hours to think about it. After that, the offer is off the table."

She stared at him, her thoughts a jumbled mess. The idea was outrageous, insane even. But what choice did she have?

As she left the office that night, Ethan's words echoed in her mind. "Desperate times call for desperate measures," he had said. And Maya knew, as much as she hated to admit it, that he was right.

The clock was ticking.