Marcus sat in his office chair on the 20th floor. The expansive view of the city stretched before him, but he didn't see anything. His eyes were empty. His mind was far away.
Get married within 6 months.
That sentence kept spinning in his head like a song he couldn't get rid of. He took his father's letter again, reading it for the umpteenth time.
"Find someone you can love, Marcus."
Love. That word felt strange to Marcus's ears. He had already lived 35 years, and had never truly loved anyone. Love was something found in movies or novels. Not for someone like Marcus.
But now, his father was dead. And his father left all this as a final test.
Marcus knocked on his desk. Hard. Like trying to break a stone with bare hands.
He knew one thing: he had to get married. Not because of love. But because of money. Because of the company. Because he didn't want everything he had built all this time to become the property of the Charity Foundation International.
So, who? Who would want to marry him?
Marcus thought about it. He tried to remember all the women in his life. There was Sarah, an office friend who often flirted with him. There was Rebecca, an ex-girlfriend who still sent messages occasionally. There was Jennifer, a friend from college who now worked at a bank.
But all of them... didn't fit. They would ask "why?", "what for?", "is Marcus serious?". And Marcus didn't have a good answer.
Marcus needed someone easy. Easy to ask. Easy to manage. Easy to... exploit.
He felt a little guilty thinking about that. But it was business reality. In business, everything is a transaction.
Marcus opened his laptop. He started making a mental list. Who could be a potential wife?
Marcus's office door opened. A woman entered carrying documents.
"Boss, the documents for the meeting with the Singapore client are ready," she said in a soft voice.
Marcus looked up. It was Emma.
Emma was his secretary for three years. A 25-year-old woman. Long-haired, small body, a face that always looked tired. But her smile was warm.
Emma placed the documents on Marcus's desk. Emma's hands moved quickly and efficiently. She had memorized every habit of Marcus's. She knew what Marcus needed before Marcus himself knew.
"Thank you, Emma," said Marcus.
Emma smiled. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Boss?"
Normally, Marcus would answer "no, that's all". But this time, he held Emma back.
"Wait a moment," said Marcus.
Emma stopped. She looked at Marcus with a curious gaze.
Marcus didn't know what he was doing. He just observed Emma more carefully. Emma's slightly pale face. Emma's eyes visible behind her glasses. Emma's body posture that always bent slightly, as if she lacked confidence.
But there was something in the way Emma worked. Something solid. Reliable. Like a stepping stone.
"Marcus... Boss?" asked Emma. "Is something wrong?"
Marcus realized he was daydreaming. "No, nothing's wrong. You can go."
Emma left the room. The door closed gently.
Marcus kept staring at that door.
After Emma left, Marcus opened his laptop again. He opened a special folder that contained data about all office employees.
He scrolled to the "Secretary Department" section.
There was Emma's information:
Name: Emma Age: 25 years old Marital Status: Single Address: 342 Riverside Avenue, Westside Emergency Contact: Lily (Sister), No. 555-0142
Marcus read that information over and over again.
Single. That was good.
He remembered that one time, Emma had told him (without being asked) that she had a sick sister. The sister needed surgery. The surgery costs were huge. Emma's family couldn't afford it.
Marcus knew this from a casual conversation in the elevator. Emma hadn't meant to tell him. But she was tired enough that she started rambling about her problems.
Back then, Marcus just listened. He didn't offer a solution. He didn't offer help.
But now, now that information was useful.
Emma needed money. Marcus needed a wife.
It was a perfect transaction.
Marcus spent the entire day thinking about Emma. He observed her from behind his office glass.
Emma worked hard. Very hard. She arrived earlier than other employees. Left later. Rarely took breaks.
Marcus saw Emma talking with other female colleagues in a room. Emma laughed, but her laughter wasn't wholehearted. It was like fake laughter.
Marcus saw Emma checking her phone over and over again. Maybe waiting for news from her sick sister?
Marcus saw Emma opening her lunch bag. Her food was simple. A simple sandwich with an apple. No heavy items. Economy food. The food of someone who counted every dollar.
Everything fit.
Emma was the perfect candidate.
She had no other options. She wouldn't have many demands. She would accept the offer because she needed money. She would do whatever Marcus asked.
Marcus felt a little uncomfortable with this thought. But he pushed that feeling to the back.
This was business. In business, there was no room for guilt.
That afternoon, Marcus called Emma again.
"Emma, can you see me for a moment?"
Emma came in again. This time she brought a notebook and pen. Ready to write down what Marcus needed.
"Is there anything I can do for you, Boss?"
Marcus looked at Emma. He saw a small worry on Emma's face. As if Emma was thinking about what mistake she had made to be called twice in one day.
Marcus almost changed his mind. Almost.
But then, he remembered. Remembered his father's letter. Remembered the 6-month deadline. Remembered how much money he would lose.
"Sit down," said Marcus, pointing to the chair in front of his desk.
Emma sat down. Nervousness was clearly visible on her face.
"Emma, there's something I want to ask you," said Marcus carefully. "About your family."
Emma looked shocked. "My family, Boss? What's wrong?"
"You have a sick sister, right?"
Emma froze. Emma's eyes became watery. "How does Boss know?"
"I heard it in the elevator, before," said Marcus. "You were talking to Sarah."
Emma looked down. She looked embarrassed for having shared personal things with someone else. Embarrassed that her boss knew about her problems.
"Yes, Boss," whispered Emma. "My sister is sick. She needs surgery. But... but the cost is too much. We can't afford it."
Emma took a deep breath. Tears fell from her eyes, but she didn't cry. Just silent. Silent while tears fell.
"How much does it cost?" asked Marcus.
"75 thousand dollars, Boss," answered Emma with a voice that was barely audible. "We've tried borrowing from everywhere. But no one wants to help."
75 thousand dollars. For Marcus, that money was like nothing. He could get it in a few days from a small business deal.
But for Emma, it was a fantastic amount. An impossible amount.
Marcus felt something in his chest. Something uncomfortable. But he ignored it again.
"Emma," said Marcus. "Have you ever thought about changing your situation?"
"Changing, Boss? How?"
Marcus stopped. He thought about the right words.
This was a crucial moment. This was when he would offer an unethical deal. This was when he would exploit someone's desperation.
But he had already made a decision. He had already chosen Emma.
"There's a way," said Marcus carefully. "But it's a bit complicated."
"Anything, Boss," said Emma desperately. "I would do anything for my sister."
Marcus looked at Emma. Emma's eyes full of hope. Eyes filled with desperation. Eyes that would be willing to do anything.
And Marcus felt a bit evil.
That night, Marcus went home with a jumbled mind.
His house was big. Too big for one person. A penthouse with 5 bedrooms, a private swimming pool, and a garage that could fit 10 cars.
Marcus walked to the refrigerator, took a bottle of mineral water. He drank it. The water was cold, but it didn't cool his mind.
He sat on a large sofa facing the TV. He didn't turn on the TV. He just sat. Alone. In a house that was too big.
Marcus imagined Emma in this house. Emma on this sofa. Emma at this wide dining table.
Emma smiled at him. Emma cooked for him. Emma slept next to him.
Marcus shook his head. Removing that image.
This was just business. Just a transaction.
Emma was the solution. The solution to his problem. The solution to his father's deadline. The solution to money and the company.
But why did Marcus feel uneasy?
Why was there a voice inside his heart whispering: "This is wrong, Marcus. This is very wrong"?
Marcus picked up his phone. He opened Emma's contact.
He typed a message: "Emma, can you come to the office tomorrow afternoon after work is done? I want to talk about something important with you. Alone."
Marcus deleted the message before sending it.
He typed again: "Emma, are you busy tomorrow? I want to meet with you for a discussion."
Marcus read it again. Too formal. Too strange.
He deleted it again.
Marcus finally just left his phone. He would talk to Emma directly tomorrow. Face to face.
This would be the most important conversation in his life.
A conversation that would change everything.
Marcus couldn't sleep all night.
He lay in his bed. Feeling cold even though there was already a blanket. Feeling alone. Feeling guilty.
He thought about Emma working hard for her sister. He thought about Emma's financial struggles. He thought about Emma's desperation.
And he would exploit all of that.
Marcus knew this was wrong. But he would do it anyway.
Because his father demanded it. Because wealth demanded it. Because Marcus's sovereignty demanded it.
A long night. Very long. Until finally, dawn arrived.