Chapter 3 - The Offer I Couldn't Refuse and the Enemy at the Door
I stepped back instinctively as Lucas closed the distance between us, the sheer force of his presence filling the hospital suite.
“A job?” I repeated, my skepticism evident.
“I already have a job. I clean your floors.”
“Not anymore,” Lucas said smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“As of twenty minutes ago, your employment contract as a night cleaner at Meridian Tower has been terminated with a severance package equivalent to five years of salary.”
My jaw dropped.
“You fired me for saving your life?!”
“I promoted you,” Lucas corrected, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made it difficult to breathe.
“My personal physician, Dr. Marcus, recommended that I hire a 24/7 private medical coordinator to monitor my recovery over the next six months following this unexplained cardiac event. Given your medical background, your discretion, and the fact that you literally keep a beating heart going with your bare hands, you are uniquely qualified.”
“Uniquely qualified to be your glorified babysitter?” I scoffed.
“I don't want your charity, Mr. Bennett. And I certainly don't want to work for a billionaire who fires people on a whim.”
“It’s not charity, Bailey. It’s a contract,” Lucas said, stepping even closer until I could smell the faint scent of cedarwood and antiseptic soap on his collar.
“Ten thousand dollars a month. Housing provided in the Meridian Tower executive residential block. Full medical debt erasure handled by my legal team by close of business today.”
The numbers hit me like a physical blow.
Ten thousand dollars a month.
Medical debt erased.
No more agonizing over grocery bills or choosing between electricity and rent.
It was life-changing. It was everything my mother had prayed for before she died.
And yet, standing there looking into Lucas Bennett’s cold, calculating eyes, I knew there was a catch.
“What’s the catch?” I asked quietly.
“Why me? Out of all the top-tier medical professionals in Chicago, why hire a college dropout night cleaner?”
Before Lucas could answer, a sharp, frantic knock echoed at the heavy oak door.
Without waiting for a response, the door swung open.
A tall, impeccably dressed woman with sharp blonde hair and designer clothes marched into the suite, her face twisted in a mask of haughty irritation.
“Lucas, darling, what is this absurd rumor I’m hearing about a—?”
She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes locking onto me standing beside his hospital bed in my thrift-store sweater and faded jeans.
Her expression hardened into pure venom.
“Who the hell is this?” she demanded, turning her glare toward Lucas.
Lucas didn't flinch. He let out a long, slow sigh, his expression turning colder than ice.
“Hello, Claire,” Lucas said flatly.
“Meet Bailey Reed. The woman who just saved my life.”
Claire Vance—board member, major shareholder, and, as I would soon discover, Lucas Bennett’s ruthless fiancée—looked me up and down with undisguised disgust.
“A cleaner,” Claire sneered, her voice dripping with poison.
“You brought a common cleaning scrub into your private recovery suite, Lucas? Have you completely lost your mind?”
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“Watch your tone, Claire,” Lucas warned, his voice dropping into a dark, lethal register that made even the haughty blonde take a half-step back.
“She stays. And she starts today.”
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