The CEO's Bride

In a modest apartment in New York City, a young woman was diligently chopping vegetables in her cramped kitchen, attempting to prepare a hearty soup for her sickly younger sister, Sophie. Suddenly, the quiet domestic scene was shattered by the sound of a loud thud reverberating through the thin walls.

Alarmed, she sprinted towards Sophie's room, her heart hammering in her chest.

She reached the room in a flash, only to find her sister sprawled on the floor, her body convulsing in violent, uncontrolled movements. Panic siezed the young woman, With no time to waste, she swiftly hoisted Sophie onto her back and dashed out the front door, her adrenaline coursing through her veins. The normally quiet street seemed to roar with chaos as she sprinted, nearly tripping on her own feet as she clung to her sister.

As she reached the street corner, a taxi pulled to a stop nearby, and she dashed toward it, gasping out, "St. Joseph's Hospital, please!" The driver, alerted by her desperation, took off without a word, weaving through the dense traffic.

As the taxi raced through the city, she cradled her sister in the back seat, murmuring comforting words and praying silently for Sophie to hold on. The minutes ticked by at a painfully slow pace, each passing moment a reminder of how fragile life could be.

Finally, the taxi screeched to a halt outside the hospital, and she staggered out, nearly collapsing under the weight of her sister. "Please, help my sister," she begged, her voice cracking as she pleaded with the nurses at the entrance. "She needs help."

The nurses swiftly ushered her and Sophie inside, guiding them through the maze of hallways and into the emergency room. A team of doctors descended upon them, rushing Sophie into the adjacent room for immediate treatment.

She was left to wait, her nerves frayed and her mind consumed by worry. Hours passed in a blur, each moment blending into the next as she paced the sterile corridors, wringing her hands and straining to catch a glimpse of her sister.Time seemed to stand still for her as she waited outside the ward, wracked with worry. Every second felt like an eternity, the sterile white walls of the hospital closing in on her.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, a doctor emerged from the ward, his face grave. "Ms. ," he said, his voice low and solemn. "I'm afraid your sister's condition has worsened. She needs immediate surgery to drain the fluid from her brain."

Her heart sank. "Of course," she whispered, nodding numbly. "What do we need to do?"

"I'm afraid the surgery is quite expensive," the doctor continued, his voice soft but firm. "The total cost is $20,000."

Her heart stopped. $20,000? She couldn't possibly afford that. Her savings wouldn't even cover half the cost. Her mind spun, searching desperately for a solution. Sophie couldn't die. She just couldn't.

"I... I don't have that kind of money," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling. "Isn't there another way? Please, you have to save my sister"

The doctor's hands were tied; he could not go against the hospital's strict policies. He shook his head slowly, his voice low and apologetic. "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. You need to come up with the money for the surgery to proceed."

Her world shattered. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she buried her face in her hands, overcome with grief and despair. Her sobs echoed throughout the hallway, her anguish palpable to all who passed by.

The thought of losing Sophie was more than she could bear. In her mind, there was no option but to save her sister, yet the prospect of gathering such an astronomical sum of money seemed insurmountable.

"I can't just let her die," she whispered, her voice ragged with desperation. "I have to do something. Anything."

She wandered outside the hospital, her footsteps heavy with defeat. She found a secluded corner near the gate, hidden from the hustle and bustle of the city, and sank down to the ground. There, she sat, her shoulders heaving with sobs, her body convulsing with each heart-wrenching sob.

Passersby gave her a wide berth, their eyes averted as they hurried past, ignorant to the tragedy unfolding before them. Yet she remained oblivious to her surroundings, lost in the darkness of her own despair.

As she sobbed uncontrollably, her heart torn apart by desperation and grief, Nicholas emerged from the nearby coffee shop, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. His eyes immediately fell on the distraught girl, her face contorted with anguish.

He hesitated for a moment, then felt compelled to approach her. "Excuse me," he said softly, his voice gentle and concerned. "Are you alright? Can I help in any way?"she lifted her gaze to meet Nicholas's, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She sniffed back her tears, her voice hoarse as she responded,

"My sister, she needs surgery, but I can't afford it."Nicholas's concern for the sobbing girl was undeniable, prompting him to inquire after her identity.

"I'm truly sorry for your situation," he said, his voice laced with genuine compassion. "What is your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

The young girl too grief-stricken to filter her response, replied simply, "My name is Miranda."

As if in slow motion, the coffee cup slipped from Nicholas's grasp, landing on the pavement with a crash. His eyes went wide, his expression one of utter shock.