23/06/2026
The man was standing there, towering over her. Rain still glistened on his coat, droplets sliding down the lapels. His expression was completely unreadable, a mask of polished indifference. He looked down at her as if she were a puzzle he had just decided to solve.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke. The noise of the hospital seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of them in a bubble of silence.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was deep, resonant, and smooth as velvet.
"What's your name?"
Riana hesitated, confused, wary. "Riana Page."
His gaze moved from her face to the file clutched tightly in her hands, to the hospital bracelet on her wrist, to the exhaustion written in every line of her posture. Then back to her face.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-two."
Again, silence. The strange, terrifying man studied her. He looked at her not like a stranger, but like someone who was calculating something. Weighing value. Making a decision that would change lives.
Riana felt increasingly uncomfortable, her skin prickling under his scrutiny. She shifted where she sat on the floor. "Is there something you need, sir? I... I’m waiting for news about my brother."
His answer came immediately. Without hesitation. Without warning. Without emotion.
"Marry me."
The world stopped.
Riana stared at him, her mouth slightly open. She was certain she had heard wrong. The exhaustion had finally broken her mind. The stress had finally snapped her sanity.
"What?" she whispered.
The man’s expression never changed. His eyes remained steady, dark, and unblinking.
"Marry me."
Thunder crashed directly overhead, shaking the very foundations of the building. The corridor fell silent. And Riana Page suddenly realised that her life, already hanging by a thread, was about to change forever.
Chapter 1: The Proposal in the Rain
Thunder exploded across the night sky, tearing open the darkness like a jagged wound. Rain hammered against the tall windows of St. Gabriel Medical Centre, relentless and heavy, sounding like a thousand tiny fists beating against glass, desperate to get inside. Outside, the city was drowning in the storm; inside, the hospital was drowning in chaos.
Doctors rushed through the corridors, their white coats flapping like flags of surrender. Nurses pushed stretchers from one ward to another, calling out names and numbers that meant nothing to anyone but themselves. The air was thick with the sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic, masking the deeper, underlying smell of fear and sickness.
Yet amidst all the noise, the shouting, the rolling wheels, and the frantic footsteps, Riana Page heard only one sound.
Beep… Beep… Beep…
The rhythmic, unyielding tone coming from behind the heavy double doors of the operating theatre. It was her brother’s heartbeat. Or perhaps, she thought with a twisting pain in her chest, it was simply his countdown to death.
Riana sat on the cold, linoleum floor, her back pressed against the wall just outside the emergency theatre. Her hair, dark and thick, was soaked through from running through the storm to get here, the strands clinging to her pale face and neck. Rainwater dripped from the cuffs of her thin coat, pooling on the floor around her. Her fingers trembled violently as they clutched a stack of crumpled hospital documents, each one a sentence of judgment, each number a weight she could not carry.
She hadn’t slept in thirty six hours. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. Her body felt hollow, drained, existing only on pure adrenaline and terrifying hope. None of the physical exhaustion mattered. Nothing mattered except Leo.
Her little brother. Ten years old. The only family she had left in the world.
The large digital clock above the nurses' station glowed with cold, green numbers: 11:43 PM. Every passing minute felt like another knife twisting deeper inside her chest. Every second that ticked away was a second Leo was fighting, fighting to stay alive, fighting not to leave her alone in this cruel world.
Suddenly, the doors swung open. The sound of the hinges screeched, loud and jarring, cutting through the hum of the hospital.
Riana jumped to her feet so fast her head spun. She stumbled forward, her hands reaching out as if to grab hold of the doctor before he could speak.
“Doctor!"
The middleaged surgeon stepped out, pulling off his surgical mask and then his glasses. He rubbed his tired, redrimmed eyes, his expression heavy with the kind of weariness that went beyond physical fatigue. It was the weariness of a man who delivered bad news too often.
"Miss Page.”
Her heart sank before he even said another word. Just the tone. Soft, apologetic, final. She already knew. But she begged anyway. She had to.
"Please..." she whispered, her voice cracking. "Tell me you’ll save him. Tell me it went well."
The doctor’s expression softened, pity washing over his features. "I want to save him, Riana. God knows I do."
Want.
Not can.
Not will.
Want.
Riana’s stomach dropped out from under her. She gripped the edge of the counter beside her to keep from collapsing. "But?" she managed to say, barely audible. "But what?”.
The doctor sighed, a long, heavy breath that seemed to carry the weight of the entire hospital. "The surgery he needs—the one that will repair the damage and give him a real chance—it is complex, specialised, and expensive. It needs to happen tonight. If we wait until morning... I don't think he will survive the night."
"Then do it!" Riana cried out, desperation rising like bile in her throat. "Please, just do it! I’ll find the money, I promise—“.
"Miss Page," the doctor interrupted gently, looking away, unable to meet her eyes. "The payment department hasn't approved the procedure. Without the guarantee of funds, we cannot proceed with an operation of that magnitude. It is hospital policy, and there is nothing I can do to override it.”.
Silence fell between them, heavier than the storm outside. Then came the number that shattered her world completely.
"The estimated cost is two hundred thousand pounds."
Riana stared at him, unblinking. Two hundred thousand. It might as well have been two hundred million. It was a sum so vast, so impossible, that her mind couldn't even process it as real money. It was just a number that meant death.
She didn’t even have two hundred pounds to her name.
Over the past six months, since Leo’s condition worsened, she had sold everything. Her mother’s wedding ring, the only thing she had left of her. Her father’s vintage watch, the one he wore every day until the accident. Her laptop, her jewellery, her clothes, every piece of furniture that wasn't nailed down. She had worked three jobs, borrowed from people who charged interest that would have broken a richer person, and begged every charity she could find.
And it still wasn't enough. It would never be enough.
"I’m sorry," the doctor said again, his voice barely a murmur. He turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone in the harsh, fluorescent light of the corridor.
Completely helpless.
For a moment, she simply stood there, swaying. Then slowly, her legs gave out, and she slid back down the wall, curling in on herself. Her vision blurred, not from exhaustion, but from the tears she refused to let fall. She pressed both hands over her mouth, stifling the sob that threatened to tear out of her throat. She tried not to break, tried not to scream, tried not to fall apart—because Leo always hated seeing her cry.
‘Don't cry, Riri,’ he would say, smiling that bright, gaptoothed smile that lit up her dark world. ‘I’m tough, remember? Just like you.’
The image of him flashed behind her eyes: a tenyearold boy with messy hair and bright eyes, who always saved half his snacks because “Riana likes this flavour.” A boy who pretended not to be scared whenever they visited hospitals, squeezing her hand and telling her he was fine, even when he was pale and shaking with pain. A boy who trusted her completely, who believed she could fix anything, because she was his big sister.
And she was failing him.
"I don't know what to do anymore..." she whispered into her hands, the words dissolving into a sob.
Nobody answered. The corridor remained cold, bright, and indifferent to her pain. The storm raged outside, and the hospital continued its endless, mechanical rhythm, caring for those who could pay, ignoring those who could not.
Then, suddenly—
Chaos erupted at the far end of the hallway.
The heavy glass entrance doors burst open, driven inward by the wind and rain. Several nurses rushed forward, their voices sharp and urgent.
"Emergency incoming!"
"Move! Clear the corridor, now!"
"Make way!"
Riana looked up, wiping her face roughly, trying to compose herself. She watched as a stretcher raced through the entrance, wheels spinning fast. A young woman lay unconscious upon it, her pale skin stark against the white sheets, dark hair spread out like a halo. There was blood on her clothes, dried and fresh, and her skin looked grey, lifeless.
Chapter 2
Doctors surrounded her instantly, shouting orders. More security personnel appeared, forming a barrier. Hospital administrators practically ran through the hallway, looking terrified. Even the hospital director himself appeared—a man who had ignored Riana’s pleas all evening, who had looked right through her as if she were invisible. Now he looked terrified.
"Prepare the VIP operating suite immediately!" he barked. "Clear the third floor—everything else stops!"
One of the nurses gasped as she checked the woman’s vitals. "Miss Wood’s condition is deteriorating! She’s losing too much blood!"
Wood?
Riana didn't recognise the name. But everyone else clearly did. The atmosphere in the hospital shifted instantly. The staff moved with a speed and urgency she hadn't seen all night—not for her brother, but for this stranger. For someone important.
Then another voice echoed through the corridor, low and nervous, almost a whisper, but it carried further than any shout.
"Mr. Ravenwood has arrived."
The reaction was immediate. Several people straightened their backs as if standing before royalty. Others stepped aside, flattening themselves against the walls to clear a path. The corridor seemed to freeze. Even the air felt heavier, charged with a sudden, electric tension.
Riana found herself looking toward the entrance along with everyone else.
A few seconds later, a tall figure stepped through the doors, shaking rain from his shoulders.
He wore a long black overcoat, tailored perfectly, expensive enough to pay for Leo’s surgery ten times over. Rainwater glistened on the fabric, darkening the wool. He moved with a fluid, silent grace, every step deliberate, controlled. His features were sharp, almost carved from stone—high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and a mouth set in a permanent, unamused line. But it was his eyes that caught and held her gaze.
Dark. Deep. Cold as a winter sea.
He looked no older than thirty, yet the moment he entered, everyone else seemed to shrink, becoming smaller, less important, less significant. He radiated power—not just wealth, but the kind of dangerous, ancient power that comes from generations of influence and absolute control.
Riana had never met him before. But she knew instantly. This man was dangerous. Dangerously wealthy. Dangerously powerful. And dangerously alone.
The hospital director hurried forward, hands clasped together nervously. "Mr. Ravenwood—"
The man didn't even glance at him. His eyes remained fixed on the stretcher disappearing down the hall toward surgery. His expression didn't change, didn't crack, didn't show fear or panic. Just... intensity.
"What happened?"
His voice was calm. Too calm. It was the kind of calm that made people want to look away, the kind that meant something terrible was brewing beneath the surface.
"Car accident, sir," the director stammered, rushing to keep up. "Severe impact. She was brought in just moments ago."
The man’s jaw tightened. Only slightly. A micromovement that Riana, watching from the shadows, noticed immediately. Yet the entire corridor seemed to hold its breath.
Then, slowly, his gaze shifted.
For the first time.
He turned his head, and his dark eyes swept down the length of the hallway, past the doctors, past the nurses, past the machines and the chaos. And then, they locked onto hers.
Riana looked away immediately, her heart hammering against her ribs. She felt exposed, seen through, stripped bare. Rich people, she told herself bitterly. Powerful people. They live in a different world. A world that has no place for someone like you, Riana. Don't be stupid.
She lowered her eyes, returning her attention to the crumpled file in her hands, pretending he didn't exist. She tried to focus on Leo’s name, on his diagnosis, on anything but the overwhelming presence that seemed to fill the entire space.
A few moments later, footsteps stopped directly in front of her.
Heavy. Slow. Deliberate.
Riana frowned. She didn't look up. She hoped he would just walk past.
He didn't.
She finally lifted her head.
The man was standing there, towering over her. Rain still glistened on his coat, droplets sliding down the lapels. His expression was completely unreadable, a mask of polished indifference. He looked down at her as if she were a puzzle he had just decided to solve.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke. The noise of the hospital seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of them in a bubble of silence.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was deep, resonant, and smooth as velvet.
"What's your name?"
Riana hesitated, confused, wary. "Riana Page."
His gaze moved from her face to the file clutched tightly in her hands, to the hospital bracelet on her wrist, to the exhaustion written in every line of her posture. Then back to her face.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-two."
Again, silence. The strange, terrifying man studied her. He looked at her not like a stranger, but like someone who was calculating something. Weighing value. Making a decision that would change lives.
Riana felt increasingly uncomfortable, her skin prickling under his scrutiny. She shifted where she sat on the floor. "Is there something you need, sir? I... I’m waiting for news about my brother."
His answer came immediately. Without hesitation. Without warning. Without emotion.
"Marry me."
The world stopped.
Riana stared at him, her mouth slightly open. She was certain she had heard wrong. The exhaustion had finally broken her mind. The stress had finally snapped her sanity.
"What?" she whispered.
The man’s expression never changed. His eyes remained steady, dark, and unblinking.
"Marry me."
Thunder crashed directly overhead, shaking the very foundations of the building. The corridor fell silent. And Riana Page suddenly realised that her life, already hanging by a thread, was about to change forever.
He was a billionaire stranger. She was a desperate woman praying for her brother's life. Then he made her an offer she couldn't refuse: Marry me.
