(Amira's POV)
The knock on the door was firm and steady. Not loud. Just... sure.
My heart jumped. For a second, I couldn't move.
Then it came again; three slow knocks that somehow sounded like a command.
I turned toward the bed. Mom was still asleep, her breathing soft and steady. I didn't want to wake her. I didn't want her to see me like this; shaking, terrified, unsure.
I swallowed hard, crossed the small room, and opened the door.
Leonardo Vance stood there.
He looked out of place, like someone had taken a piece of a luxury magazine and pasted it into the middle of my street. A dark suit, spotless shoes, eyes sharp as glass.
For a moment, we just stared at each other.
"Good morning, Miss Daniels," he said quietly. "May I come in?"
I stepped aside, unable to find my voice.
He walked in slowly, his gaze sweeping across the tiny room; the peeling paint, the flickering bulb, the faint smell of disinfectant.
His expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes; something I couldn't read.
"This is where you live," he said softly, almost to himself.
I folded my arms. "It's home."
He turned to me. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"You didn't," I lied.
There was a long silence. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears.
Finally, he said, "Have you made your decision?"
I glanced at the table. The folder lay there, open, waiting.
"I was… thinking about it," I said.
He nodded once. "Then let's finish thinking. Time is valuable, Miss Daniels."
I looked at him sharply. "You mean your time."
His lips curved slightly. "Mine. Yours. Everyone's. It's the only thing we can't buy back."
He moved closer, his presence filling the small space. I could smell his cologne; clean, expensive, something like cedar and rain.
"You need the money," he said quietly. "Your mother's treatment can't wait."
I froze. "How do you know"
He cut me off gently. "You told me enough. The rest wasn't hard to find."
My stomach twisted. "You looked into me?"
"I had to," he said simply. "I don't make offers to strangers."
It wasn't an apology. It was a statement.
I felt exposed, like he had peeled back every secret I tried to hide.
He stepped closer, his eyes steady on mine. "You have courage, Amira. That's why I chose you. But courage won't save your mother. Signing will."
His words hit like a punch. Because they were true.
I turned away, blinking back tears. "You don't understand. This isn't easy for me."
"I never said it was."
I stared at the contract on the table. "And what if I say no?"
"Then I walk out that door," he said calmly, "and your chance walks out with me."
For a moment, I wanted to hate him. But there was no anger in his voice, just certainty. Like he already knew what I would choose.
The silence stretched between us. I could hear my mother coughing softly in her sleep.
I whispered, "She's all I have."
"And that," he said, "is why you'll sign."
He was right.
I looked at the pen lying beside the folder. My hand trembled as I picked it up.
"Tell me one thing," I said, still staring at the page. "Why me?"
He didn't answer immediately. Then, quietly, he said, "Because you're not like the others."
"The others?"
"The ones who see my money and think it's love. You didn't ask for anything, Amira. You walked into my office with fear in your eyes but still held your head up. I respect that."
I blinked, startled by his tone. It wasn't cold this time. It was almost... sincere.
I met his gaze. "And what do you get out of this?"
He paused, then said, "Privacy. Protection. Control."
The way he said that last word made me shiver.
I didn't know what kind of protection or control he meant, but I knew I was stepping into something I couldn't fully understand.
Still, I thought of Mom. Of hospital bills. Of everything I stood to lose if I walked away.
I took a deep breath.
"Where do I sign?" I whispered.
He handed me the pen, his fingers brushing mine for just a second. The touch sent a strange warmth up my arm.
I looked down at the signature line.
My heart pounded.
One stroke. Two.
Then my name "Amira Daniels" sprawled across the page.
I let out a shaky breath. It was done.
Leonardo's eyes followed the movement of the pen, calm and focused. When I was done, he picked up the folder, closed it carefully, and said, "Welcome to my world, Miss Daniels."
Something in his voice made me feel like the ground beneath me had shifted.
I looked toward the bed. Mom was still sleeping peacefully.
Leonardo noticed. "You should tell her you got the job," he said softly. "She doesn't need to know the details."
I nodded numbly.
He turned toward the door. "Pack your things. We leave in one hour."
"What?"
"One hour," he repeated. "Your new home awaits."
I stared at him. "I haven't even"
He cut in, his voice calm but firm. "You signed the contract, Miss Daniels. Everything after that is already in motion."
I opened my mouth to argue but stopped. There was no point. The moment I signed, my choices stopped being mine.
He walked to the door, paused, and looked back at me. "And, Amira"
"Yes?"
"Don't be late."
Then he left, the door closing softly behind him.
For a few seconds, I just stood there, staring at the space he'd been.
Then I sat down hard on the bed and buried my face in my hands.
It was done.
I'd signed.
I'd just traded six months of my life for security, comfort… and a stranger's rules.
But somewhere deep inside, I couldn't shake the feeling that Leonardo Vance wasn't just saving me, he was claiming me.
One hour later, the same black car waited outside.
I carried my small suitcase, glancing back at the apartment; at the peeling walls, at Mom still resting, at the only life I'd ever known.
Kemi ran up just as I reached the car. "You're really doing this?" she asked, breathless.
I nodded. "I don't have a choice."
She grabbed my hand. "Be careful. Please."
I managed a weak smile. "I will."
As the car door shut behind me, I saw her face fade in the rearview mirror, growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared completely.
The driver said nothing. The city blurred past in silence.
I stared out the window, my chest tight.
And for the first time, I realized — I wasn't going to a job.
I was going into his world.
A world built on secrets, money, and power.
A world where my name didn't matter, and my heart wasn't safe.
As the car pulled up before tall iron gates, I caught sight of a sprawling mansion ahead; white stone, glass, and perfection.
It looked like something out of a dream.
Or maybe a trap.
The gates opened slowly, almost like they were welcoming me in… or closing behind me.
I clutched my bag tighter.
This was it.
No turning back.
I whispered to myself, "You wanted to save her, Amira. Don't forget why you came."
But as we drove through the gates, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just signed away more than my time.
Maybe even my freedom.