Chapter 3: The Choice That Broke me

Lyra POV

Customers began to come into the restaurant, and that diverted the attention between the stranger and me. Before I could settle my mind, he talked.

"I don't stay in crowded places, and as you can see, the restaurant is getting full. Come with me to the VIP room." He said with a firm voice, but his eyes didn't leave my sight.

After some time, we got to the VIP room. I sat on the chair, still thinking about the whole issue in my head. The money is right there, right in front of me. Stacks of it are neatly arranged, cold, yet powerful enough to decide who lives and who does not.

My mother's life. Every clock that ticks counts louder than I could imagine. My fingers trembled at my sides as I stared at it. My mind spinning, I felt disturbed. My heart, refusing to settle. This wasn't real, was it? 

A stranger walks into my life, offers me everything I need, and all I have to do in return is marry him.

"No. No, this has to be some kind of twisted joke," I muttered silently.

"I don't have all day, Miss Cole," he said while looking at me directly.

His voice, calm, controlled, and dangerously patient, cut through my thoughts like a blade.

I forced my gaze away from the money and back to him.

He snapped his fingers again, and this time around the man in the black suit handed him a cigarette. The way he held the cigarette and the way he lighted it felt so bossy. He must have been so used to it.

While standing there, doing absolutely nothing. He carried a presence that made the entire room feel smaller. Like the air itself bent around him.

"I don't even know you," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "You expect me to just agree to this?" I gestured toward the briefcase. 

His expression didn't change.

"You don't need to know me," he replied. "You just need to decide."

My jaw tightened. "Decide?"

What did he call this? An auction. Because from where I was sitting, it didn't feel like a decision; it felt like a corner. And I was being pushed into it. 

"I'm not for sale," I snapped.

A flicker of something crossed his eyes. 

Brief. Unreadable.

"Everyone has a price," he said simply.

"I don't," I answered back.

The room fell into silence. Heavy. Dangerous.

For a moment, neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke.

Then, my phone rang. The sharp sound sliced through the tension like a knife.

I became curious as to who called. My heart skipped.

Slowly, I reached into my bag and pulled it out. 

Martin.

My breath caught.

"Excuse me," I muttered, turning slightly away from the man before answering.

"Martin?"

"Lyra!" His voice came out fast and rushed. I could feel panic from the way he called my name.

"What is it?" What is wrong?"

"It's Mom..." He said, his voice shaking. And instantly, dear gripped my chest. "Her condition just got worse. The doctors, they are saying they need to start treatment immediately or..." He paused, he didn't finish.

At that point he didn't have to.

My legs felt weaker beneath me.

"Or what?" I whispered. There was a pause.

And in that pause, I heard everything he couldn't say.

"They're doing everything they can right now," Martin continued quickly. "But they are asking about the payment again. Lyra, did you get the money?"

The question hit me like a punching bag. My eyes slowly drifted back to the briefcase. To the money. To the solution and the trap.

I swallowed hard.

"I..." My voice broke.

For the first time, I felt it. Not anger. Not pride but fear. A crushing suffocating fear. If I said no, if I walked away. My mother would die because of me.

"Lyra?" Martin called again, more urgently this time. "Please tell me you've found a way."

Tears burned the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I had spent my whole life being strong. I wasn't about to break now.

"I will call you back,' I said quietly, my voice barely holding together.

"Lyra."

I hung up. Because if I didn't I would lose whatever strength I had left in me.

Silence filled the room again. But this time, it was different. Because now, I knew the truth. This wasn't about pride anymore. It wasn't about dignity. This wasn't about me. This was about my mother's life.

Slowly, painfully, feeling broken inside. I turned back to him. He hadn't moved, not even an inch. He just stood there, watching me. Observing and waiting. Like he already knew what I was going to do.

And somehow that made it worse. I felt mad at myself even for no reason.

"You planned this, didn't you? I asked quietly, impatiently waiting for an answer.

His brows lifted slightly. "Planned what?" he asked.

"This," I gestured between us.

"You're showing up in the most drastic way ever. Knowing exactly how much I need," I told him sarcastically. "Offering me a deal when I'm desperate enough to take it."

For a moment he said nothing. After some time, he spoke out.

"I created an opportunity," he corrected calmly.

My chest tightened. Of course it did. Men like him didn't leave things to chance.

"You are unbelievable," I whispered.

"And yet," he said, his voice dropping slightly, "you are still here."

That word hit harder than anything else, and he was right. I was still here. Still standing. Still staring at the money that could save my mother's life.

"I hate this," I admitted.

"I didn't ask you to like it." He made a smirk.

"I hate you," I added, my voice trembling now.

He made a faint, almost amused smile.

"That won't be a problem," he said.

"You are not marrying me for love," he replied smoothly. "You're marrying me for a purpose."

My mind became unsettled once more.

"And what exactly is that purpose?" I asked.

His gaze darkened slightly.

"You'll find out." He said.

A chill ran down my spine. 

There it was again, that feeling. That wasn't just business. 

That I was stepping into something far bigger but far more dangerous than I understood. 

"But did I have a choice? I didn't."

My eyes dropped to the briefcase one last time.

Forty thousand. 

A life.

A price.

I took a slow breath. As I made a choice that would change everything.

"Fine." The word came out quietly. Barely audible.

His expression shifted, more like victory.

"You agreed?" He asked

I forced myself to meet his eyes.

"You are really stubborn, but not for a lifetime," he said while dropping the cigarette he was holding.

"I will do it," I finally spoke out more clearly.