BED WIFE TO THE COLD HEARTED BILLIONAIRE

Amira's POV

For a second, just one, I could pretend everything was fine. That there weren't red notices stuffed under the door. That Jace didn't need new shoes for school. That Dad wasn't six feet under, leaving nothing but memories and a mountain of debts behind.

But reality doesn't wait for anyone.

I dragged myself up, legs aching from the long shift at the diner last night. My stomach growled, but I ignored it. There was only enough oatmeal left for one person, and I already knew who would get it.

I tiptoed across the cold floor and peeked into Jace's room. He was still curled under the thin blanket, his face peaceful, mouth slightly open. He looked younger in his sleep, like he didn't have the weight of the world pressing down on him.

I walked to the kitchen, the tiles cold against my bare feet. The oatmeal was right where I'd left it-a small tin on the top shelf, tucked behind a chipped mug. 

I poured the last scoop into a pot and added water, stirring it slowly as it bubbled. It didn't smell like much, but it would fill Jace's stomach for a little while.

When I placed the bowl in front of him, he blinked up at me, yawning. "You're not eating?"

"I already did," I lied with a smile. "Come on, eat up. You've got school in an hour."

He didn't question me, just started eating with small, grateful bites.

I watched him, trying to memorize everything. His dark curls that refused to stay flat. The way he hummed when he chewed, soft and distracted. I had to keep him safe. That was all that mattered.

My phone buzzed from the counter, the vibration sharp and urgent. I didn't need to check to know who it was.

Rico.

My heart sank.

I let it buzz three times before picking up. "Hello?"

"You got until Friday, Amira," Rico's voice was cold. "After that, we're done waiting. You know what that means."

"I just need more time-"

"We gave you time. A lot of it. Your old man owed us, and you took his place when he bailed on life. We're not running a charity, girl."

I swallowed hard. "Please. I'm trying. I have a job. I'm doing everything I can-"

"You think we care about your job at that rat-hole diner?" he snapped. "$120,000, Amira. Friday. Or Jace starts paying in ways you won't like."

He hung up.

I stood there, phone trembling in my hand, a chill running down my spine. My legs felt weak, like they might fold beneath me. Five thousand dollars. By Friday. That was four days.

Jace looked up, his eyes innocent. "Was that someone from work?"

"Yeah," I forced out, folding my arms so he wouldn't see my shaking hands. "They just needed me to come in earlier today."

He nodded, not asking more. Thank God.

After he left for school with his too-small backpack bouncing behind him, I sat at the edge of the couch and stared at the ceiling. The room felt smaller every day, like the walls were pushing in. Like the air was getting heavier.

The loan sharks hadn't always been this aggressive. At first, it was just calls and notes. Then they started coming by, knocking at the door late at night. Rico was the worst of them. He smiled like it was all a game. Like our pain amused him.

The worst part was the way he looked at Jace the last time he showed up. He didn't say anything, but I knew. It was a threat wrapped in a smile.

I had to find a way. And Fast.