THE BILLIONAIRE'S CONTRACT BRIDE

Helen Michaels had never believed in miracles. In her world, survival wasn't about luck-it was about endurance. It was about waking up at dawn to work double shifts at a rundown diner, scraping together pennies to pay rent, and praying her mother's condition wouldn't worsen before she could afford the next round of medication.

But today, as she stood in the sterile hallway of St. Mary's Hospital, staring at a medical bill that might as well have been a death sentence, she realized she had run out of time.

Five hundred thousand naira.

The words burned in her brain. The doctor had been polite but firm-without the payment, her mother's treatment would stop immediately. Helen had begged, pleaded, even tried to negotiate a payment plan, but the hospital had rules. Rules that didn't care about desperation.

Her hands trembled as she folded the paper, shoving it into her worn-out handbag. She needed money. Fast.

The crowded streets of Lagos pulsed with life as she stepped outside, the evening sun casting an orange glow over the city. She barely noticed the chatter of street vendors or the blaring horns of impatient drivers. Her mind raced with possibilities-none of them good.

She had already exhausted every option. Her boss at the diner had refused to give her an advance, claiming business was slow. She had no family other than her sick mother. And friends? She had long since learned that friendships meant little when you were drowning in debt.

"Who do I call? What do I do?"

She pulled out her phone, scrolling through her contacts. No one. Not a single person she could ask for help.

Helen's lips trembled as she looked up at the sky. "Please," she whispered to no one in particular. "Just... give me a way out."

As if on cue, her phone buzzed in her palm.

Unknown number.

She hesitated before answering. "Hello?"

"Miss Helen Michaels?" a deep, measured voice asked.

Her stomach twisted. "Yes. Who's this?"

"My name is Mr. Davis. I represent Alexander Harper."

Helen froze.

Alexander Harper. The billionaire CEO of Harper Enterprises. A man so powerful that his name alone could make grown men tremble. She had never met him, never even seen him in person, but she knew who he was. Everyone did. He was cold, ruthless, and completely untouchable.

She swallowed hard. "I think you have the wrong number."

"No, Miss Michaels. I assure you, this call is for you. Mr. Harper would like to meet you. Tonight."

She blinked. "Meet me? Why?"

There was a slight pause, as if the man on the other end was debating how much to reveal. "Mr. Harper has a proposition for you. One that you will find... irresistible."

Helen clenched her jaw. This was insane. Billionaires didn't just summon broke waitresses for meetings. It had to be a mistake. Or a scam.

"I'm not interested," she said quickly, her heart pounding.

"Miss Michaels," Mr. Davis interrupted smoothly, "you may want to hear him out. After all... it concerns your mother's hospital bill."

The breath whooshed out of her lungs.

"How do you know about that?" she demanded.

"Mr. Harper knows everything about you. He is a man who gets what he wants. And right now... he wants you."

Helen's grip on the phone tightened.

She didn't know what kind of game this was, but she had no choice. She needed the money.

And she had a feeling that saying no to Alexander Harper wasn't an option.

---

Later That Evening

Helen paced the length of her tiny apartment, her nerves shot. The call had ended hours ago, but she still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling settling in her stomach.

A black luxury car would arrive at 8 PM to pick her up. Mr. Davis had been clear on that. She had exactly thirty minutes to decide if she would step into that car... or let her mother's treatment slip through her fingers.

Helen ran a hand through her hair, staring at her reflection in the cracked mirror by her bedside. She looked exhausted-dark circles under her eyes, lips dry from worry. She had thrown on her best dress, a simple black number she had bought years ago for a job interview, but it still wasn't enough to make her look like someone who belonged in Alexander Harper's world.

Maybe that was the point.

A knock at the door made her jump.

She took a deep breath, smoothing her dress before walking over. When she opened the door, a sharply dressed man with slicked-back hair and an emotionless expression greeted her.

"Miss Michaels," he said, inclining his head slightly. "I'm Mr. Davis. The car is waiting."

Helen's throat went dry.

This was it. The moment she stepped through that door, there was no turning back.

She glanced back at her tiny apartment one last time, then squared her shoulders.

"Let's go."

---

Harper Enterprises – 9 PM

The moment Helen stepped into the towering glass skyscraper, she felt entirely out of place. The lobby was grand, the floors polished to perfection, the chandeliers gleaming like something out of a movie.

A woman in a sleek black dress approached. "Miss Michaels, Mr. Harper is expecting you. Follow me."

Helen swallowed the lump in her throat as she followed the woman into the private elevator. The ride was silent, tense. When the doors opened, she was led down a long hallway until they reached an office with massive glass windows overlooking the city.

And there, sitting behind an enormous mahogany desk, was him.

Alexander Harper.

Even seated, he radiated power. His tailored suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, his dark hair was styled to perfection, and his sharp blue eyes locked onto her with an intensity that made her stomach tighten.

"Helen Michaels." His deep voice sent shivers down her spine. "You're finally here."

She forced herself to meet his gaze. "I didn't really have a choice, did I?"

One corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "No, you didn't."

Helen's hands clenched at her sides. "What do you want from me?"

Alexander leaned back in his chair, studying her like she was a puzzle he was deciding whether to solve. Then, with chilling calmness, he slid a document across the table toward her.

"A marriage contract."

Helen's breath hitched. "You're joking."

"I never joke." His eyes gleamed with something dangerous. "Marry me, Helen. And in return, your mother will receive the best medical care money can buy."

She stared at him, her pulse roaring in her ears.

This wasn't a proposition.

It was a deal with the devil.