I stood still after my colleague finished speaking and walked back to her position.

The noise of the cafe returned around plates clinking, voices rising, and footsteps moving-but I heard none of it.

My eyes stayed fixed on the counter in front of me.

My heart was beating too fast.

I slowly opened my palm. The red mark was still there, clear against my skin. I closed my hand again, as if that could erase it.

Hector's face flashed in my mind. The way he smiled. The way his eyes had followed me even after he stood up to leave.

A cold feeling crawled up my spine.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to breathe. I straightened my back, tied my apron tighter, and returned to work.

But my hands were no longer steady.

And no matter how hard I tried, I could not stop thinking about the money still sitting in my apron-and what it might truly cost me.

*****

I never realised how heavy exhaustion could feel until I was finally allowed to rest.

After work, I used the bills Hector had given me-carefully, reluctantly-to pay the overdue rent my landlord pretended he never received. I didn't enjoy taking money from a stranger, especially one as intimidating as Hector, but survival didn't exactly give room for moral choices.

Once the payment was settled, he handed me my key like he was doing me a favour instead of returning what once belonged to me.

I carried my bags upstairs, one after another, each step heavier than the last. When I pushed open the door to my small apartment, relief washed over me.

My bed.

My window.

My tiny desk.

My life, squeezed into a single, humble room.

It wasn't much-cracked tiles, flickering lights, and a bathroom door that squeaked anytime it moved.

But it was home.

And tonight, that was enough.

I threw myself on the bed, exhaustion dragging me under instantly. I slept without dreams, without fear, just a deep, dark nothingness that felt like mercy.

By the time I woke up, daylight had already dimmed. My neck was stiff, my eyes swollen, and my hair a tangled mess. But the worst part.

My body smelt like twelve hours of sweat and misery.

Dragging myself to the bathroom, I stripped and stepped under the shower. The cold water hit me like punishment.

Sharp.

Hard.

Unforgiving.

I gasped, hugging myself as the water slapped my shoulders.

And that's when the memories returned.

Mama.

Almost a year in the hospital.

Machines beeping.

Bills are stacking up.

Doctors are shaking their heads.

My whole life collapsed in slow motion.

"Why does everything have to hurt?" I whispered into the water.

It wasn't a question

It was a plea.

A surrender.

The water washed down my skin like reality washing away hope. I pressed my forehead against the wall, letting the cold drain the emotions I didn't have the strength to carry anymore.

When I finally stepped out, wrapped in the only towel I had, my phone buzzed aggressively on the sink.

Five missed calls.

All from my manager from the café.

My heart stopped.

"No... no, please," I whispered, grabbing the phone with shaking hands. "Please don't let it be bad news."

I dialled back immediately.

She answered on the first ring.

"Miss Ramirez?"

"Yes! Ma," I replied.

There was silence-long enough for my knees to weaken.

Then she exhaled, voice soft, almost emotional.

"Someone said you'll be his personal waitress, and you will serve him from today onwards. Nobody else but him."

My breath hitched. "Who? Why? Wh-what happened?"

"The man you spilled coffee on," she said.

My towel slipped slightly. "What?"

"You will not just attend to him; you'll also keep him company, because he paid all the necessary payment, and you must be early."

My throat closed.

"Hope, did you hear what I said?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma, I heard what you said," I answered.

And the call ended.

Tears blurred my vision instantly, rushing out so fast I couldn't stop them.

"The man I spilled coffee on... why did he do such a thing?" I asked, voice trembling.

My knees gave way, and I slid down against the bathroom door, sobbing into my palm.

"I always pay those who you made me inconvenient," his voice flashed back in my mind.

"God, please save me from the hand of Alejandro," I said softly with my eyes lifted up to the ceiling.

"I need to be strong," I whispered over and over, even though I didn't know why.

I arrived at the café early-almost an hour before my shift. My heart beat too fast the entire walk. My hands were cold. I didn't know why, but I kept glancing at the door, waiting for him.

For the man I poured scalding coffee on.

The man who tipped me enough to get my home back.

The man whose presence made my blood race in a way I didn't want to admit.

I was restocking sugar packets when the bell over the café door chimed.

He walked in.

Alejandro. In a sharp suit.

Cold eyes.

A walking storm.

I swallowed hard and approached him slowly.

"Um... Mr De La Vega?"

He looked at me, expression unreadable. "Yes?"

"What should I offer you..." My throat tightened.

He frowned. "Won't you at least allow me to sit first?" he said in a dangerous tone.

"Sorry... I was just doing my job."

He raised a hand.

"No more talking," he snapped in, with his voice sounding commanding and dangerous.

My stomach twisted.

"But, I received a call that I'll-"

"Only attend to me," he interrupted.

He leaned closer and then murmured.

"And I only asked your manager to make you my personal waitress because I want to make sure you pay."

I stared at him, as my chest hollowed out.

Then a voice from behind interrupted, "Miss? My cappuccino?"

"I'm coming," I whispered, stepping away.

Alejandro watched me for a long moment before ordering his usual drink.

But I barely noticed.

My mind was spinning.

The moment I served Alejandro his drink, he ordered me to sit, and that terrified me more than anything else.

He began asking me a lot of questions about my mother and many other things, and I responded not because I wanted to but because I was afraid of losing this job.

My shift ended late.

Exhausted, I walked home, kicking tiny rocks along the sidewalk. The sky was already turning purple when I reached my building.

As I dug out my key, my phone buzzed.

1 New Message

Unknown Sender.

My heart thumped.

I opened it.

I hope you enjoyed your work today. Hope it wasn't stressful?

Another message arrived instantly.

I will be visiting the café tomorrow. I'd love for us to have a brief conversation.

My fingers went numb.

The final message came with a soft vibration.

I know you might be surprised at who is sending this text; it's Hector.

My breath froze. "How, Where did he get my number from?" I murmured.

And what did he want?

I tried to reply to his message and ask him how he got my number, but I couldn't; my hands were fixed on my phone, but I couldn't type a word. All I did was continuously stare at the message.

I got into my apartment, threw my bag on the wooden chair and sat.

I was torn between confusion and disbelief.

Hector is a stranger whose smile kept on displaying in my mind, and Alejandro is the most ruthless and dangerous man in the city. Both of them strangers, one seeking for attention while the other seeking for payback.

"Why did Hector insist on helping me with the bill?" I whispered. "And how did he get my number?"

I murmured a lot of questions to myself about the two strangers.

I was hoping the answers would come from above, but they didn't.

Later I walk towards the broken wooden bed and sit on the edge, with my eyes still fixed on the screen, only to discover that Hector was still typing; I became anxious, wondering what he was typing this time.

1 New Message

"Let's go out on a date. Azul's café. 4 p.m."

"What?" I whispered urgently with my heart beating fast like it would burst out of my chest.

I summoned the courage and responded to the very last message that he sent, My working place... I have a lot to do tomorrow.

Then I noticed he wasn't done typing. I could wait to see the next message. I turned the phone off and threw it on the bed...

While I was at work, my stomach was aching badly. Now I felt like I had just eaten so much food that I couldn't carry it.

I was shocked that Hector wanted to see me, and on the other hand, Alejandro paid my boss for me to be his personal waitress."

Without further thinking, I took my bath and ate the two loaves of bread that I had kept in the kitchen and to kissed the night goodbye.

****

The sound of the alarm ringing made me sit up on the bed. It was 7:42 in the morning. Normally my time for work is always around 9am. I dragged myself into the bathroom and took my bath, then got dressed for work.

I arrived at the café at around nine minutes past nine. There was a lot of traffic on the street this morning, causing me to come late.

Immediately after I entered the cafe, I noticed the absence of my boss, so I quickly tied the apron and stepped behind the counter, then began repeating the steps that I had become familiar with.

Smile, take orders, deliver drinks quickly, don't trip, don't stare, and don't drop anything. I attended to all of the customers, while my eyes were fixed on the door, waiting patiently for Alejandro to batch in as usual, but he didn't.

The bell made a sound, and the door was pushed open. I felt the breath I've been nervously holding in my throat whoosh out.

A huge muscular man stood at the entrance in an ash suit, then walked out from the shadow, only to discover he wasn't Alejandro; it was someone else. It was Hector.

His eyes scanned the room-

And landed on me.

My breath hitched as I let my mind wander aimlessly, like it has been waiting to do since the moment he walked in.

A smile sat on his face as he slowly approached me. His hands were continuously running through his hair; the look on his face wasn't readable.

"Coffee girl, we met again," he said softly, "and I guess your name is Isabella Ramirez?" He said

I nodded slightly. As my mouth fell open in surprise. How did he know my full name? I remember vividly that I haven't told anyone my full name, not even my boss, so how come he knew that my surname was "Ramirez"?

You said you have a lot of work to do, so I decided to come over to the café." He said.

"Yeah, I do really have a lot to do," I answered.

He continued. "But it seems that you aren't busy as you said." He mumbled...

We have a lot to talk about. "Get me a glass of whisky." He requested as he walked back to the table that was empty.

I quickly brought his drink because I had rumours saying, "He is more dangerous than Alejandro.

"Sit," he ordered, like he controlled every single breath that I breathe.

He took up the whisky glass and took a sip before returning it back to the table.

"You are really a pretty lady. I love the way your eyes and everything are."

"Thanks," I responded.

He continued.

"I've watched you for some time because you're important for my life."

"His life? What is he talking about?" I whispered in a voice that only I could hear.

He pushed the table that was between us and sat very close to me; the hot smell of his perfume was strong. Choking. I couldn't breathe.

After a long conversation, he brought out a huge envelope with a receipt of payment.

He placed the envelope in my hands, and as his hands brushed against mine, for some moment, he didn't let go of my hands, despite the fact that I was struggling to pull out my hands from his.

His touches were too light, and I wasn't comfortable.

"That is a huge amount of money. I brought it for you; use it and take care of yourself," he said with his voice above whispering.

"Thanks, but no, I don't need the money." I whispered out with my eyes blown wide and my heart pounding wildly against my ribs.

Deep down I really need the money, but I can't accept his offer, because I remember the voice of my colleague saying it always comes with a debt.

Just as this was happening, the entrance door to the café was swung opened.

Only to raise my head and discover it was Alejandro.

Alejandro stood at the entrance and observed Hector for some moments before he took some gentle and dangerous steps toward him with his eyes fixed on me.

I noticed the insecurity.

The annoyance.

The confusion in his face.

And the jealousy he couldn't explain in his movement.

He felt like Hector was trespassing on his property the moment he saw Hector touching my hands.

He approached the table, saying, "Get your dirty hands off hers." Alejandro's voice sounded in an angry tone. Like a predator protecting his last meal.

When Alejandro reached the table, he forcefully pulled my hand from Hector's hands and dragged Hector by the tip of his suit.

Everyone. Everything fell into silence; the sound of spoons, laughter, and whispering faded immediately, and all eyes, including that of my manager, were fixed on Alejandro and Hector, carefully watching the scene they were about to display.

"Hector, how many times have I warned you to stay away from anything that concerns me?"

Alejandro continued.

"I swear with every little drop of blood running in my veins, the next time you cross paths with her, I will make sure you pay back the debt she's owing me." "Stay away from Isabella; she has a lot to pay me back."

"Pay him back," I mumbled to myself. "Was it the suit that I ruined with coffee that Alejandro is talking about?"

I was stuck in confusion; I didn't know what was really happening. All their conversation was like misery to me.

Hector smirked and snorted, like he expected something like this to happen.

"Ok, but first get your hands off me," Hector murmured while Alejandro released his hands from Hector's suit.

Alejandro turned toward me, with his expression dangerous. Didn't your boss tell you that you will only attend to me?

I nod my head slightly.

"Then you decide to do what you want."

Alejandro continued. "The next time you attend to someone else, you won't just lose your job; you will have your mother's body.

"Whatever you are doing, stay away from Hector," he whispered angrily.

I nodded slightly.

I was still hurt and confused, and out of curiosity I asked Alejandro, "Mr De La Vega, why are doing this to me? Why are you adding to my pain?"

Alejandro paused. No answer. Just silence.

Hector whispered, "You are nothing but his pawn." Someone who is willing to make you pay for ruining his million-dollar suit.

And that's why he has no response to your question.

I noticed Alejandro's jaw tightened. He continued clenching his jaw, like Hector was pushing him hard off his limit. All this while, Alejandro kept silent. Not even a single word came from his mouth.

Hector walked out of the café after he had caused more harm than good.

But he didn't just leave; he took the envelope along with him.

****

Back home.

My phone rang immediately. I got home; it was the doctor that was calling.

"We discovered what happened to your mother, it is her heart and she needs a transplanting, which requires two million dollars deposit.

Within the next 12 hours, or you might lose her.

"What! 2 million what?!"

He answered. "Yes, a 2 million dollar deposit just to cover only the first stage that will be ministered to her."

The doctor ended the call without giving room to talk. Or even give me an opportunity to appeal on my mother's behalf.

"12 hours to decide whether my mother lives or dies."

My world collapsed. I wanted to shout. To scream, as to ask, "Why is life treating me this way?"

I fall on my knees with my hands covering my face, as tears drop down endlessly.

The doctor knew very well that I had no support and nowhere to get such a huge amount of money from. Or the guarantor.

My clothes became wet with my tears and sweat; suddenly I came to a conclusion: I will not and never watch my mother die, never. "Even if I have to sell my womb just for the money, I will do it."

*****

Outside the street of Mexico, I walked past a black SUV parked at the side of the road, not knowing it was Alejandro's SUV.

A voice called me from behind it was a Alejandro voice, he steps out of the SUV in the cold. Confidence. And in an intensive manner.

He said, "Isabella, we need to talk."

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I couldn't talk. The words of the doctor are still echoing continuously in my mind: "2 million dollars deposit for her heart transplant."

I had no idea what he wanted to talk about; to me it was an opportunity to tell him about my mother's situation.

The way his eyes were staring at me felt like a weight passed beneath my shoulder that I couldn't lift up. I felt that he was the only person that could see through the wall I had built around myself.

I entered his SUV, and he drove to a safe location.

I know about your mother's situation. He mumbled, and I was shocked. How? Or did he know, or did the doctor inform him? I asked myself.

And that's why I am offering you this.

Surprisingly, he brought out a huge envelope.

I had no intention of collecting the envelope, but my hands went before me. The envelope was heavier than expected; at first I thought it was a huge amount of money that I could use to pay my mother's hospital bills, but it wasn't anything made of money. I stared at it, hesitant to remove the stamp on it, afraid of what the content might be.

Alejandro's gaze never left me, steady and unyielding, as if he could read every thought racing through my head.

Finally, with a trembling hand, I tore it open. Inside was a lot of paper-crisp, official-looking, and impossible to ignore. My eyes scanned the words, each one sending a jolt and overwhelming feeling through my chest: my eyes and head couldn't and weren't able to comprehend what it was saying.

The only words that struck my brain were.

A Contract Marriage Agreement.