Chapter 1

The harsh fluorescent lights of Mercy General Hospital blurred into streaks as I raced through the corridors, my heart pounding against my ribs. The manila envelope clutched against my chest contained everything I had—cashier's checks totaling my entire life savings. Three days ago, my world had collapsed when Marcus did, his body suddenly giving out during a pitch meeting with investors.

"Excuse me!" I called out, narrowly avoiding a collision with an orderly. My voice sounded foreign to my own ears, raspy from lack of sleep and too many silent tears.

I'd sold my entire collection of sketches—years of quiet moments captured in charcoal and pencil—to an art dealer who'd taken pity on me. The experimental medication Marcus needed wasn't covered by insurance, but I didn't hesitate. Marcus had been my protector since we were children in the foster system. He was my everything.

Slipping into the ICU room, I was hit by the now-familiar symphony of beeping monitors. Marcus lay still, his usually animated face slack, his skin waxy under the unforgiving hospital lights. I placed the envelope on the small side table and moved to his bedside, gently wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead with a cool cloth.

"I got it," I whispered, though I knew he couldn't hear me. "The doctor said they'll start the treatment tomorrow morning." My fingers trembled as I pushed a strand of his dark hair from his forehead. "You just need to hold on."

I settled into the hard plastic chair that had been my home for the past three nights, my body aching with exhaustion. I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the darkened window—hair disheveled, eyes hollow with dark circles beneath them, clothes rumpled. I hardly recognized myself.

"You look like hell," a nurse had commented earlier, trying to convince me to go home. But home without Marcus wasn't home at all.

I reached for his limp hand, careful not to disturb the IV line. "Remember when we were twelve, and you punched Tommy Wilson for pulling my hair?" I smiled at the memory, my voice barely audible over the rhythmic beeping. "You've always been there for me. Now it's my turn."

The shrill ring of my phone cut through the quiet room. I fumbled to silence it, but seeing the name of our startup's attorney, I stepped into the hallway to answer.

"Isabella? Thank God you picked up." Richard's voice was tense, urgent.

"What's wrong?" I pressed the phone closer to my ear, my stomach knotting.

"The funding chain has collapsed. Venture Capital Partners pulled out this morning, and it triggered a domino effect. Everyone's backing out."

The hallway seemed to tilt beneath my feet. "But... the Series A round was almost closed. Marcus said—"

"Without Marcus at the helm, investors are spooked. We need an emergency infusion of capital or the company's finished. Employees won't get paid next week, and all of Marcus's work will be for nothing."

I leaned against the wall, trying to steady myself. The startup was Marcus's dream—the culmination of years of work and sacrifice. If it failed while he was fighting for his life...

"There must be something we can do," I said, my mind racing through our dwindling options.

Richard hesitated. "There is one possibility. Alexander Sterling has shown interest in our sector. His investment firm could save us, but..."

"But what?"

"Sterling is notoriously selective. He only takes meetings with founders, and Marcus is..."

"Unconscious," I finished, glancing back at Marcus's room. "What if I went instead?"

"You?" Richard's surprise was evident. "Isabella, Sterling doesn't meet with just anyone. And the rumors about how he conducts business with women..."

I knew the rumors. Alexander Sterling, the enigmatic billionaire, was said to blur professional and personal lines. Meeting him alone could put my reputation at risk—especially as an unmarried woman representing her fiancé's company.

"Get me the meeting," I said, my resolve hardening. "I'll do whatever it takes."

As I ended the call and returned to Marcus's bedside, I felt a weight settle onto my shoulders. I would save both Marcus and his dream, no matter the personal cost. After all, what was my reputation compared to our future together?

I had no idea then that my sacrifice would be the first step toward losing everything I thought I was fighting for.