
Divorced: I Married My Enemy
Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Isabella's POV
My mind raced, scrambling for solutions, for options, for anything, but there was nothing; I had nothing. My savings account held barely just some pennies, not even enough for food.
I haven't really taken any time to save any money since I was working for Daniel all his years; he didn't pay me a salary, but I never complained because he was giving me anything I needed as his wife.
I lifted my gaze to Alexander, who stood watching me with that same controlled, patient expression. He hadn't moved, hadn't spoken, hadn't even seemed to breathe.
I need to help my family; I can't let anything happen to my grandparents and sister.
I shut my eyes for a second and finally opened it to meet Alexander fully, my heart pounding so hard that I could feel it in my throat.
His dark eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made me feel like he could see straight through to my soul.
"I will do it," I said, the words rushing out before I could stop myself.
"I will be your contract wife, and I will sign whatever you need me to sign and play whatever role you need me to play. But I need your help," I said, while he stared at me.
“Tell me anything; I'm ready to help you,” he said, while I swallowed the leap that had formed in my throat before speaking.
“Well, my grandfather is in the hospital right now, and he needs any emergency treatment, so please, can you help me with the money for his treatment right now?” I asked him, hoping within me that he would agree to it.
"Consider it done," he said with a soft and firm voice as his lips curved into a smile.
I blinked, my mouth still open mid-sentence. "What? You are ready to do it right now?" I asked him, with my eyes widened in disbelief, as I stared at him.
Alexander pulled his phone from his pocket with deliberate calm, his fingers moving across the screen.
"Yes, just give me the hospital account details so I can make the transaction." He requested, and somehow a smile found its way into my face.
"Wait, do you really mean that?” I asked him, still finding it hard to believe it.
“Yes, just give me the details already,” he said.
“One moment, please,” I said, and quickly dialled my grandmother's phone number.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight with a mixture of relief and something that felt dangerously close to gratitude.
“Grandma, text me the hospital account details, and the amount we need to pay before treatment can begin,” I told her the moment she took the call.
“Okay, but where did you get the money?” She asked me with a concerned voice, but I wasn't going to just tell her anything just yet.
“Grandma, please, that's not important right now; Grandpa's life is more important for now, so please just send it,” I blurted out, trying to brush off the questions.
“Yes, right, I will do that right away,” she said, and then the call disengaged.
After a few minutes, my phone peeped with a message. Without any hesitation I gave the details to Alexander, and he did the transaction.
“It's done,” he announced, and immediately relief washed through me; I bet the treatment must already have been started.
"Thank you," I whispered, and the words felt pathetically inadequate. "I don't know what I would have done without you," I said, finding it hard to believe he could really have helped me out.
"You don't have to." Alexander stood up from his seat and moved closer to me, close enough that I could smell his cologne, something expensive and subtle, cedar and sandalwood.
"We had an agreement. You agreed to be my wife, and I agreed to help you, so that's how this works." He said with a soft but firm voice, as he gazed at me.
I nodded, still trying to process everything that had just happened. "So when are we going to get the marriage license?" I asked him, and he cleared his throat before speaking.
"I believe that can wait until tomorrow. But for now, you should go to the hospital with your family. Your grandfather will want to see you when he wakes up," he said firmly.
The kindness in his voice caught me off guard. I looked up at him, searching for the angle, the catch, the hidden price. But his expression was unreadable, as always calm and controlled, giving nothing away.
"You're letting me leave without signing any contract?" I asked him, still finding it hard to believe that he just helps me without my signing any contract yet.
"Isabella, I'm not a monster. You agreed to be my wife, so I have no interest in imprisoning you," he spoke calmly, and somehow I felt a kind of sincerity that I never knew was possible.
"I don't understand you," I admitted, the words escaping before I could stop them. "You're not what I expected." I added, as I looked up at him.
"And what did you expect?" He asked me his eyes narrowing at me.
I shook my head. "I don't know. Someone colder, maybe, or more transactional." I admitted finding it hard to lie to him.
"I'm not entirely without sentiment. Go see your grandfather, Isabella. We'll talk more tomorrow." He said and turned to leave, but stopped halfway.
“I need your contact information. I will call you tomorrow morning by 9am,” he said, and dropped his cellphone in front of me.
I didn't bother to hesitate; he had done a part of the bargain already, and I still needed his help too.
I took his cellphone and put in my contact information and returned it to him. “I guess I will see you tomorrow then,” he said.
“Yes, we will meet tomorrow,” I added, while he just smiled softly and turned around and made his way out, leaving me there.
I didn't know what the future held, and I didn't know what Alexander truly wanted from me or what I would have to become to survive in his world.
But for now, all that mattered was that my grandfather was getting the treatment he needed, and I'm also sure with Alexander, my family will get a roof over their heads again.
But from tomorrow, I would sign my name on a dotted line and become someone else entirely. From tomorrow, I would belong to Alexander Sterling, my enemy.
I don't know if my family will ever forgive me for this decision I have made, but I'm never going to regret doing this to help them.
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