A Contract Baby For The Magnate

Illness-there's a word that never bothered me much. When you have money, you don't worry about little things that can easily be fixed by paying for the best doctors in the world. But when that little word is followed by "terminal," it becomes a huge nightmare, whether you're rich or poor. All I want is time. At this point in my life, I don't care how much money I have, the companies in my name, or how many cars and houses I own. The only thing that matters is how much time I have left to live. One year-that's what my doctor said. One damn year. Three hundred and sixty-five days to enjoy my billions, to have an heir and ensure the continuation of my legacy. And that's how I ended up on this rooftop, accompanied by the girl I saw sleeping on a park bench. It's not every day you meet a girl as beautiful as her living on the streets of Seattle. "I wouldn't jump from there if I were you." I tried to speak softly so as not to scare her, but it didn't work. The girl clutched her chest in fright, turning to face me. Her blue eyes stared at me in shock, and she took another step, getting even closer to the edge. "You don't know who I am-this expensive suit and the watch you're wearing..." She shook her head in denial. "It's clear we're from different worlds. Of course you wouldn't jump if you were me." That's what people always saw when they looked at someone like me: the suit, the shoes, the watch. The money screamed perfect life, solution to all problems. And I'd be a hypocrite if I said it wasn't true-at least it was, until I heard my diagnosis. "What if we made a trade? You take my money, and I take the years of life you're about to throw away." I took a few steps, approaching the blonde, taking advantage of the fact that she was staring at the distance from the rooftop to the ground. I don't know what came over me when I saw her in the park, curled up asleep, clutching her backpack that served as a pillow, sheltering under an overcoat that didn't do a good job as a blanket. Then I followed her to the diner where she worked. I left when it started getting weird, but I kept watching from across the street and saw the exact moment she came up here. "What are you talking about? You're the creep who was at the diner earlier today. Don't come any closer!" She turned to look at me. "If you get any closer, I'll jump!" "Forgive me. I thought jumping was already your intention." I teased, but of course I didn't want that to happen for real. I wouldn't let her waste her life like that, even if it was none of my business. "What do you want here? Go away and pretend you didn't see me. Whatever it is you're after, you arrogant rich old man, I'm not interested!" Her blonde hair whipped in the force of the wind. I had to admit she was beautiful-a young girl who looked around twenty-three, with the most fascinating and saddest blue eyes I'd ever seen. "I was thinking the same thing as you, you know-jumping from here and ending it all." I lied outright. I'd never consider taking my own life. I loved being alive and having the life many dreamed of. But as I spoke to her, I could get closer. "Why would a rich guy do that? Jump from a building? What kind of problems could you have to want to end your own life?" "I could ask you the same thing. What kind of problems does a young woman have to want to leave this world?" Finally, I had her full attention on me. "How about you tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine?" She blinked her long lashes quickly and took one last look at the edge of the building. But something in the street scared her enough that she almost lost her balance. Her hands were quick to grab the iron railing that surrounded the entire structure, and in the next second, I was there, pulling her up. Someone who wants to kill themselves definitely wouldn't hold onto a bar like that to prevent falling. It was clear she didn't want this. "I got you! I got you!" I exclaimed as I fell onto the rooftop floor, hugging her. Her soft body on mine felt almost weightless, as light as I'd imagined it would be. But the scent of her hair invaded my nose, and to my surprise, it was incredibly good. I tightened my arms around her even more, feeling her curves fit perfectly against me. The sobbing that burst from her told me the fear she was feeling and all the despair. I'd never known what that was like until a few weeks ago. "He's here. He found me again." The girl repeated, her face buried in my chest. "Who's here, dear?" I held her face, lifting it so she would look at me. Her cheeks were now wet, her nose red, and her eyes even more frightened. "I can protect you. Just tell me who it is." Her blue eyes scanned the place, as if she expected something or someone to appear out of nowhere. You could see she was terrified. "I can't let him get me! Get me out of here, help me get out of here, and I'll do whatever you want!" she pleaded desperately, and I got up from the floor, brushing off as much dust as I could before pulling her with me. "No one's going to touch you. Stay calm. I won't let anything bad happen to you." I opened the heavy iron door and extended my hand to her. "Shall we?" "We can't go that way. He'll... he'll see me and... We can't!" So "he" was some bastard who was stalking her. It made sense that she kept looking around every second while she worked. "I won't let him get near you. I can protect you." She stared at me, glancing at my extended hand, doubt overflowing. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I assure you-if you come with me, no one will ever bother you again!" Then she accepted, sliding her delicate, calloused hand over mine. I didn't waste time. I went down the stairs with her following close behind, until we reached my car. Her eyes scanned the street, searching for this someone, but I pushed her into the car. I didn't want her in danger out there, looking around for someone who wouldn't bother her anymore. Because I was sincere when I said it-I wouldn't let anyone bother her again.