Ethan Blackwood, the CEO of Blackwood Enterprises, inherited the company at a young age after the tragic death of his parents. Growing up, he was surrounded by wolves in sheepskin preying on his wealth, so he had to match their sharpness. The scent of deceit clung to the air around them. Mr Blackwood was a refined young bachelor, a heartthrob to the ladies who yearned to feel the warmth of his gaze. He was 30 years old and still unmarried. To him, marriage was a waste of time, a distraction. The only girl he wanted to marry was the daughter of Mr Patel, but only for business purposes. He was a numbers guy, and he valued his peace, the quiet hum of his vast empire.
As much as Ethan had it all, the taste of power and luxury, he was super sick. His heart, the very core of his being, was failing. He needed a heart transplant to survive. He was listed as a priority, the top of the list, and finally, the call came, the ringing that would change his life.
"Mr Blackwood," his secretary's voice chimed, a smile evident in her tone, "I got a call from Dr Martin."
Ethan's fingers drummed on the polished mahogany desk, a steady beat echoing in the silence. "What did Martin say?"
"They found a match, sir," the secretary replied, her voice a touch hesitant.
Ethan leaned back in his leather chair, a smirk playing on his lips. The scent of victory filled the air. "Call Mr Patel and set an appointment. It seems like I'm going to get married."
The secretary's eyebrows furrowed. "Married?"
"Yes, dummy," Ethan retorted, his voice dripping with condescension. "Mr Patel knew about my health issues; hence, he didn't want me to get engaged to Sophia. After the surgery is complete, I will be able to marry Sophia, his precious girl."
The secretary's voice was barely a whisper. "But sir, you don't love Sophia."
Ethan scoffed, the sound echoing in the opulent office. "Who cares about love when they can conquer the world?"
The secretary's voice was firm, resolute. "I promised your parents that I would only retire once you were married and happy."
Ethan waved a dismissive hand, his gold cufflinks glinting in the sunlight streaming through the window. "Old man, don't worry about me. I am happy."
Ethan was no fool. Sophia was Mr Patel's only child, the heiress to a vast fortune. Luckily, she did have the hots for him. The way her eyes sparkled when he entered the room, the way she leaned in when he spoke. He might not be smooth or gentle, but he certainly knew how to cuff a lady. Who wouldn't fall? I mean, Ethan was the prototype of a perfect Mr Charming. He was handsome, his muscles sculpted from countless hours in the gym. To be under his embrace was tolerable, even though his personality could be as cold as steel. At the end of the day, what makes things happen in the bedroom is not personality but aura.
Ethan rose from his chair, his movements smooth and deliberate. "Prepare a car and let's go visit Mr Patel."
The secretary cleared his throat, his voice laced with concern. "Mr Blackwood, I think we should go to Dr Martin first. He requested to meet you."
Ethan's eyes narrowed, his voice like ice. "Who is the boss between me and you?"
The secretary swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You, Mr Blackwood."
"Then why are you telling me what to do?" Ethan snapped, his voice echoing in the silence.
The secretary bowed his head, his voice barely audible. "I apologize, Mr Blackwood."
While others were rejoicing for a chance, a second chance, the same could not be said about Mia Bennet. Her brother was the one dying so that Ethan could live. It wasn't murder; he couldn't take it anymore. He attempted suicide, the cold metal of the razor blade glinting in the dim light, but he was found by Mia before she could lose him. Mia Bennet was a baker, her hands roughened from kneading dough, her heart heavy with sorrow.
"Mia," Dr Martin said softly.
Mia turned to face him, her eyes filled with tears. "Doctor, he'll recover, right?" Her voice trembled with sorrow and desperation.
"I'm sorry," Dr Martin's voice cracked with emotion.
Tears streamed down Mia's flawless cheeks. Her brother was all she had. He had only received the heart transplant three months ago, and now he was gone.
"Dr Martin, I think the heart killed my brother. After he got it, he just wasn't the same," Mia pleaded, her voice tinged with anguish.
"I understand you're grieving, but the heart is controlled by the mind. There's no way the heart killed your brother," Dr Martin countered gently.
"Don't give it to anyone else, please. I can't explain it. My brother was not himself after receiving it," Mia insisted desperately.
"Mia, I'm sorry for your loss," Dr Martin said softly, trying to console her.
"You can't take his organs without his permission!" Mia's voice rose in protest.
"Your brother signed a consent form. This is beyond you," Dr Martin replied firmly.
Mia clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to contain her emotions. She was not God. She couldn't save everyone, let alone her brother.
Mr Blackwood graced the estate of Patel with his presence, his footsteps echoing in the grand foyer. He walked to the study with confidence, his head held high.
"Mr Blackwood," Mr Patel greeted, his voice warm and welcoming.
"Greetings, Mr Patel," Ethan replied, his voice smooth and controlled.
"Please, grab a chair," Mr Patel offered, gesturing towards a plush armchair.
"Thank you, sir," Ethan said, settling into the chair.
"I came here to tell you that I meet the requirements," Ethan continued, his eyes locked on Mr Patel's.
"Before you show me a health report," Mr Patel interrupted, his voice firm, "like a thorough health report, you and I will not be talking business. I want to know your blood type, your status, and whether you can make children."
Ethan raised an eyebrow, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "Give me a month, and I will be able to meet the requirements."
Mr Patel nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Then we will shake hands after a month."
Ethan leaned forward, his voice laced with impatience. "Where is Sophia?"
Mr Patel smiled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I won't tell you. I don't want you to charm her and not meet the requirements."
Ethan's jaw tightened, but he maintained his composure. "I am a man of my word."
Mr Patel chuckled, a low rumble in his throat. "I love that about you. Make sure you have everything before Sophia's birthday, or else I'm going to consider another suitor."
Ethan's mind raced, the gears turning. He was confident that no one could match him, that he was the only one worthy of Sophia's hand. He would meet Mr Patel's requirements, even though he didn't agree with them. He didn't have to agree with Mr Patel, but he would do what was necessary to secure his prize.
Ethan was on a mission. He left Mr Patel's property and went to see Dr Martin. Ethan paced the sterile white floor of the doctor's office, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent room.
"Mr. Blackwood," Dr Martin began, his voice steady and reassuring, "the heart is ready, and I promise you that there is nothing like this heart."
Ethan stopped his pacing, his eyes narrowing as he fixed Dr Martin with a piercing stare. "You speak like you are lying to me, like you are a marketer. Talk to me like a doctor."
Dr Martin adjusted his glasses, a nervous gesture that did not escape Ethan's notice. "You have nothing to be worried about, Mr. Blackwood. You are in great hands."
Ethan scoffed, a humorless sound that echoed in the small office. "Make sure I don't die, okay? I'm not a billionaire yet. That would be embarrassing."
Dr Martin forced a smile. "Don't worry, Mr Blackwood. We will take care of you."
Ethan nodded curtly. "When can surgery commence?"
"As soon as possible," Dr Martin replied.
Ethan checked his watch, a frown creasing his brow. "Then I will be here tomorrow." He paused, his voice hardening. "Also, I want to know who owned the heart."
Dr Martin hesitated, his eyes darting away for a moment. "Uhm, I'm not sure."
Ethan's frown deepened. "What? You didn't steal it, did you?"
Dr Martin sputtered, his face flushing red. "Of course, I didn't!"
Ethan raised a hand, silencing the doctor's protests. "Then you will give my secretary all the information I need." He turned to leave, his voice echoing in the doorway. "See you tomorrow."
Ethan entered the elevator, his face a mask of cold indifference. Just as the doors began to close, a distraught Mia rushed in, her eyes red and swollen, tears streaming down her cheeks. In her haste, she accidentally stepped on Ethan's polished shoe, causing him to flinch.
Ethan glared at her, his voice dripping with disdain. "What's wrong with you?"
Mia recoiled, her sobs momentarily interrupted by his harsh tone. She stammered, "I-I'm sorry, sir. Please forgive me. I'm s-sorry."
Ethan's eyes narrowed, taking in her disheveled appearance and the raw pain etched on her face. "Who died?" he asked, his voice cold and unsympathetic, "You're crying like someone died."
Mia's voice cracked as she choked out the words, "M-My brother died."
Ethan shrugged, his indifference unwavering. "Oh," he said, his tone nonchalant, "Well, we're all going to die. It's just a matter of when. You'll be okay."
Mia stared at him, her mind reeling. She couldn't believe the callousness of this man. The sudden stop of the elevator broke the tension. Mia rushed out, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway, tears still streaming down her face. Ethan followed leisurely, his secretary trailing behind him.
"Mr Blackwood," the secretary began, his voice hesitant, "you were mean to that poor girl."
Ethan scoffed, adjusting his cufflinks with a nonchalant air. "Mean? I was simply telling the truth. I lost my parents at six years old. You don't see me crying in public spaces."
He walked away leaving his secretary in disbelief.