If someone had told me I'd end up marrying Ethan O'Martin—the billionaire with a guarded stare and a file full of exes—I would've laughed in their face. But that morning, I wasn't thinking about love or billionaires. I was thinking about a dying boy and a heart that hadn't arrived yet.
I lay there, emotionless on the bed, my mind spinning like a rollercoaster.
A new day.
A new day to worry, while keeping a straight face.
If I had to choose, I'd choose to have everything I could—except right now, all I truly wanted was lying beside me.
My teenage brother.
Sixteen, frail, clinging to hope and desperately in need of a heart transplant.
Who would wish death on another kid just to save their brother's life?
I would.
And that truth haunts me every time I blink.
But it's a burden I dare not speak aloud. Not since the storm that claimed our parents' lives.
"Hey… hey, Lena. I need to use the restroom," his voice cut through the fog in my head.
I snapped back to reality and reached out a hand to help him up.
Since his last diagnosis, the doctor warned us: no stress, no exertion—nothing that might worsen his condition.
"You can go now," he said, fingers brushing the door handle.
"Are you sure that's enough? I can come in and help you," I offered gently.
"Hell no! I'm fine. Besides, I'm sixteen. I can take care of myself."
Stubborn as ever. He managed to steady himself and disappear behind the door.
---
I stood behind the restroom door, slipping back into my thoughts.
The sting of losing my part-time job yesterday came rushing in again. I hadn't even been given a chance to explain myself.
I should've known better.
Still, there was no time for regrets. I had to get out there early and find another job. One way or another, when the heart became available, I had to be ready—with money in hand.
Coughs...
"Hey, Aud—are you good?" I called out, my heart skipping a beat.
"I'm okay. A fly just flew down my throat," he croaked.
I exhaled, relieved. I couldn't handle another scare right now—especially not today. Not when I was on a mission to find money.
"Are you still at the door?" he fired back, catching on to my worry.
"I was already moving," I said, stepping into the kitchen. "You're sure taking a lot of time in there."
I rummaged through the cabinet. Thankfully, I had stocked up with the last of my savings.
Since Aud—short for Audrey—could only handle his special meals loaded with vegetables, we rarely touched cereals anymore. To cut costs, I'd grown used to his overpriced health food too.
I made breakfast in a rush, my ears still tuned to the sound of him coughing in the bathroom.
Eventually, he emerged, sniffing.
"This again?" he asked, eyeing the meal I'd placed on the table.
"You have no choice," I shrugged. "Wait till you're fully recovered, then you can eat whatever you want."
I darted into the bathroom, bathed quickly, and skipped makeup—I preferred the natural look anyway. Ripped jeans, sneakers, and my lemon crop top—perfect for the heat outside.
"Take care of yourself," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder as I headed toward the door. "Call me in case of any emergency, okay? I might be back before I leave for my evening class."
As I stepped out, his voice stopped me.
"Call me Aud, please," he muttered, eyes still fixed on his phone while chewing at the same time.
"I will," I smiled softly, then closed the door behind me.
The sun hit hard as I stepped outside, bouncing off the concrete like it had a personal vendetta. My phone was nearly dead—again—and the paper where I scribbled down potential job openings was already curling at the edges in my palm.
Still, I walked.
From the tiny apartment to the heart of the city, the streets got shinier, louder, and more… distant. I kept my head high even though every polished window reminded me of where I didn't belong.
Corporate buildings stretched into the sky like they were mocking me. Most of them didn't even have signs posted. They were "invite only" kinds of places. People walked past in crisp suits, sipping overpriced coffee and talking into Bluetooth earpieces like the world owed them something.
And then there was me—sweaty, anxious, and wearing hope like a badge I was tired of pinning on.
I passed a glass skyscraper that stopped me cold
O'Martin Tech.
The name echoed louder in my chest than on the steel-plated sign.
Everyone knew the company. Ethan O'Martin—the elusive billionaire, the tech prodigy, the man with too many exes and not enough smiles. I'd read about him in passing, seen him on headlines, and dismissed it all with a shrug. That world wasn't mine.
But the building looked too tempting. Too structured. Too stable.
What if I walked in?
I shook the thought off and turned away, but before I could take three full steps, the sleek black car parked by the curb hissed as the passenger door opened.
And out stepped him.
I didn't know it was him, not right away. But the moment slowed.
Tall—ridiculously tall. Clean-cut in a charcoal suit, his movements calculated, his presence... chillingly composed. There was something about him that didn't match the flashiness of the world around him.
He didn't look like the rich men I'd seen parade themselves in magazines. He looked like a man used to silence. A man comfortable in the absence of emotion.
Except... he smiled.
It was practiced. Polite. A smile made for cameras, for business meetings. But even from across the street, I saw it didn't reach his eyes.
Then, his gaze shifted—right at me.
It wasn't long. Maybe a second. Two. But I swear, I stopped breathing.
He didn't linger. He turned toward the building, his assistant trailing behind, and just like that, he disappeared through the glass doors like smoke vanishing in wind.
I blinked, then forced myself to keep walking.
It was just a moment.
A moment I wouldn't forget
---
As I walked away from O'Martin Tech, I didn't look back.
I couldn't afford distractions—not now.
Then I heard my ringtone.
I fumbled through my bag, my cracked phone screen barely readable.
Three missed calls. From an unknown number.
The phone buzzed again. My stomach dropped.
"Hello?" I answered, my voice tight with dread.
"Is this Lena Marks?" The voice was clipped but kind.
"Yes… who is this?"
"This is City General. We need you to come in immediately. Your brother, Audrey Marks, was brought in about ten minutes ago."
Everything slowed.
I didn't remember turning around.
I didn't remember calling a cab.
I just remembered running.
---
At the hospital…
I was pacing, breath shallow.
I should've stayed home.
I blamed myself.
I rushed to the counter.
"Hi, I'm Lena Marks. I just received a call—my brother Audrey was brought here?"
The nurse looked up. "Audrey… who?"
"Marks," I said quickly, nearly breathless.
"Yes, he was brought in a few minutes ago. He's stable for now. A doctor will speak with you shortly."
"Thank God," I muttered, dropping into the nearest chair.
Anxious. Restless. Waiting.
Eventually, sleep pulled me under.
I drifted to one side, only half-aware of the shifting hospital atmosphere.
The scent of vanilla filled the air.
I blinked slowly awake.
People were staring.
Not at me.
At him.
A man sat beside me, tall and calm, casually scrolling through his phone.
Ethan O'Martin.
The Ethan O'Martin. Right here at City General.
He turned slightly toward me.
"You seem to be the only one not fazed by me. That's… new," he said, almost amused.
Before I could respond, a voice called out, "Lena Marks?"
I stood and approached the doctor.
"Your brother's heart has weakened further. He'll need surgery very soon, and we'll have to keep him under close observation while we search for a match."
Tears welled up. I blinked them away, fast.
"Can I see him now?"
"In a few minutes. The nurse will come get you."
I nodded and returned to my seat, torn and distracted.
I didn't even notice the man beside me speaking again at first.
"Hey... are you okay?"
I didn't respond.
"Lena," he repeated.
I turned my head slightly toward him.
"I overheard you talking to the doctor. If it's a money issue… come work for me."
I blinked. Confused. Was this real?
"I think… I'm okay," I replied.
Just then, his assistant—the one I'd seen earlier—walked up and whispered something. Ethan stood.
Before he left, he pulled a business card from his coat and held it out to me.
"Call me if you change your mind. You've got… 48 hours."
And then he was gone.