The Billionaire's $500,000 baby

POV: Liora Hayes

"I need five minutes," I told Xavier. My voice was shaking so hard I could barely get the words out. I felt like I was vibrating. "I just... I need to try one more thing. Please."

Xavier didn't look moved. He checked his watch. The platinum face caught the gross fluorescent light of the hospital lobby. It looked like it cost more than a lung. 

"Five minutes, Liora. But you need to understand something. Every second you spend looking for a miracle is a second closer to your mother being loaded onto that transport van. Once she’s in the van, the paperwork becomes much harder to undo."

I didn't answer him. I couldn't. I turned and ran toward the elevators. I didn't believe in miracles. I wasn't that stupid. But I believed in the small, gold-plated object tucked into the secret, zippered pocket of my bag. It was the only thing I hadn't sold. Not when the rent was late, not when the heat was turned off.

It was my father’s watch. A 1950s Omega.

I remembered him sitting at the kitchen table, winding it. Click-click-click. He had told me it was a family heirloom. He said it was a piece of history that would always hold its value. "If things ever get truly bad, Lio," he’d say, "this is your safety net."

Well, things were truly bad. I was out of 'nevers.' I was out of pride. I was just out.

I reached the billing desk again. I was out of breath, and my lungs burned. Mrs. Gable looked up from her computer. Her expression went from cold to just... tired. She looked like she wanted to go home and forget I existed. "Miss Hayes, I believe we’ve concluded our business. The order is in the system. The team is already prepping room 402 for the move. We need to sanitize it for the next patient."

"Wait!" I gasped. I fumbled with the zipper of my bag. My fingers felt like clumsy sausages. I finally pulled out the watch. The leather strap was worn and smelled like old cedar. The gold casing still had a little shine to it. I pushed it through the teller slot. "Take this. Please. It’s an antique. It’s worth thousands. Use it as a deposit. Just give me until noon to find the rest. Just a few hours."

Mrs. Gable didn't even pick it up. She looked at it through the glass like it was a dead bug someone had squashed. "We are a hospital, Miss Hayes. Not a pawn shop. We don't take jewelry."

"Please! Just look at it. My father said it was valuable. It’s an Omega. It’s real gold!"

She sighed. It was a long, annoyed sound. She picked it up with two fingers, looking like she didn't want to get her hands dirty. She turned it over, squinting at the back. Then, she set it down with a soft clack on the counter.

"It’s gold-plated, Miss Hayes. Not solid. And the movement inside is seized. It hasn't ticked in years, has it?"

I blinked. "I... I don't know. I didn't want to break it by winding it."

"In this condition, you’d be lucky to get fifty dollars for the scrap metal. Maybe seventy if someone wants the parts. It’s a sentimental trinket, nothing more. It’s not a medical deposit."

The air left my lungs. I felt like someone had stepped on my chest. Fifty dollars. My father’s greatest treasure..the thing he told me would save us…was worth a bag of groceries. Maybe a tank of gas. It wasn't even a drop in the bucket of half a million dollars.

I felt stupid. I felt so incredibly stupid for thinking a watch could save a life.

"You don't understand," I whispered. My tears finally started falling, hot and fast. I hated that I was crying in front of her again. "I have nothing else. This is everything I have left of my family."

"Then 'everything' is not enough," she said. Her voice wasn't even professional anymore. It was just flat. "Look behind you, Liora. Stop wasting time."

I turned around. At the end of the long, white hallway, I saw them. Two orderlies in blue scrubs were pushing a heavy, rusted gurney toward the ICU elevators. It wasn't the nice gurney with the padded mattress. It was a metal one. On the back sat a portable oxygen tank and a stack of those thin, scratchy wool blankets. The kind they give to people who have no one.

"That’s the 6:00 AM transport," Mrs. Gable said. "They’re ten minutes early. If you want to say goodbye before she’s moved to the county basement, I suggest you run. They don't wait."

I grabbed the watch. I clutched it so hard the metal edges bit into my palm, but I didn't feel the pain. I ran. My shoes were still wet, and I almost slipped on the tiles. I didn't care. I pushed past a doctor. I ignored the "Quiet Please" signs. I reached the ICU doors just as the orderlies were coming out.

They were pushing her.

My mother looked like a doll made of wax. She was so pale she was almost blue. They had unhooked her from the big, expensive monitors that showed her heart rate and oxygen levels. Now, she was connected to a small, battery-operated pump. It made a wheezing sound with every breath. Wheeze. Clunk. Wheeze. It sounded like it was going to break at any second.

"Stop!" I screamed. I threw myself in front of the gurney. "Wait! I'm getting the money! I'm signing the papers right now! Just take her back!"

The orderlies didn't even look me in the eye. "Sorry, miss. We have our orders. We’ve got six more pickups this morning. We’re on a schedule."

"She’s a person!" I screamed at them. I grabbed the cold metal rail of the gurney, forcing it to a halt. My knuckles were white. "She’s not a pickup! She’s my mother!"

"Liora..."

I looked up. It was Sarah, the ICU nurse who had been kind to me. She looked like she wanted to cry too. "The billing office locked the room, honey. I tried to stall them, I really did. I told them her vitals were shaky. But the department head signed off. If she stays here without a payment, the hospital can be sued for 'bed blocking.' My hands are tied. I’m so sorry."

I watched as they pushed the gurney into the service elevator. The big one. The one they used to move the trash and the laundry and the bodies. The doors slid shut with a heavy, metallic bang.

For the first time in my life, I felt the world go completely dark. Not just "night" dark. But "end of the world" dark. I stood there staring at the closed elevator doors. My mother was in there, being taken to a place where people were forgotten.

I walked back to the waiting room. My feet felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each. I sat on the edge of a hard plastic chair and stared at the floor. I didn't even feel the cold anymore. I was just numb. My father’s watch was still in my hand. I looked at the hands on the dial. They were stuck at 4:12.

Time had stopped for me. But the rest of the world was moving on. People were buying coffee. People were going to work.

"The scrap value probably went down while you were upstairs," a voice said.

I didn't even jump. I knew it was him. Xavier was leaning against a pillar. He looked perfect. His suit wasn't wrinkled. His hair wasn't messy from the rain. He looked like he belonged in a different universe.

"She’s gone," I whispered. I didn't look up. "They took her."

"They’re taking her to a facility where the mortality rate is forty percent higher than here," Xavier said. He didn't sound mean. He just sounded like he was stating a fact, like the weather. He walked over and sat in the chair next to me. He didn't offer me a tissue or a kind word. He offered a reality check.

"In that ward, Liora, she’ll be one of fifty patients assigned to a single nurse. The medicine will be generic. The equipment will be thirty years old. If her heart stops, they might not notice for ten minutes. She won't last the week. You know that."

I closed my eyes. A sob shook my whole body, but I tried to choke it back. It felt like a jagged rock in my throat.

"Time is not on your side," he continued. He leaned in closer. I could smell his expensive cologne. It smelled like wood and money. "Every minute you spend sitting here is a minute she spends losing ground. I have a car waiting outside. Right now. I have a phone in my pocket that can stop that transport van before it even leaves the city. I can have her back in that private suite, with a team of surgeons, before the sun is fully up."

I looked at him. My eyes were blurry from tears. "And the price is my life. That’s what you want."

"The price is a child," Xavier corrected. He said it so simply. Like we were talking about a car. "A child who will have everything you never did. A child who will be a Volkov. You aren't losing a life, Liora. You're saving two. Your mother’s... and your own. Because let’s be honest with yourself... what kind of life do you have left after today? You have twelve dollars. No job. No home soon. You're already drowning."

I looked at the watch in my hand. It was a lie. My father’s treasure was a lie. The steel core  my mother talked about was a lie. I wasn't strong. I was just a girl in a wet uniform who was about to watch her mother die in a basement.

 Darian Volkov. He was a monster. He had splashed me and didn't even look back. He was the kind of man who bought people.

But if he could buy my life...

I stood up. My legs were shaky, but my mind was suddenly very clear. I felt a coldness settle over me. It was a different kind of strength. Not the kind my mother had. It was the kind you get when you realize you have nothing left to lose.

"Take me to him," I said. My voice was cold. It didn't sound like me. "Take me to Darian Volkov."

Xavier stood up. A small, triumphant smile played on his lips. It made me want to hit him, but I didn't. I didn't have the energy for that anymore.

"A wise choice, Liora," he said. He gestured toward the hospital's sliding doors. "Let’s go. We have a contract to write. And the Ice King doesn't like to be kept waiting."

I walked out of the hospital. The rain had stopped, but the air was still freezing. I didn't look back. I knew that if I looked back at the hospital, I’d lose my nerve. I just focused on the black car waiting at the curb.

I was selling myself. I knew that. But as I watched Xavier pull out his phone to make the call to stop the transport van, I only had one thought.

Live, Mom. Please just live. I’ll handle the rest.

I got into the car. The leather was soft. The heater was already on. It was the most comfortable place I had ever been, and I had never felt more like I was in a cage.