My name is Lisa Markle, and I had just turned eighteen when I packed my bags and left my poor hometown to a big city, chasing the dream of a better life.
My father died young, and my mother worked tirelessly, selling sweet soup from a street cart to raise my two sisters and me. I didn’t want her to struggle any longer, so I decided to move to the city and work as a dishwasher in a small noodle shop.
The work was exhausting — every day I was buried in greasy dishes and soapy water — but I gritted my teeth and endured it. “Just hold on for a few years,” I told myself. “Save enough money, open a small tailoring shop, and bring Mom here so she can finally rest.”
Six months passed, and I gradually got used to city life. One day, he appeared. His name was Michael Cadell, about thirty-eight years old, always coming to the shop every Saturday morning.
He would order a dish of breakfast combo, eat slowly, and carry himself with elegance. Tall, well-dressed in tailored suits, with a shiny luxury watch on his wrist, he looked every bit the wealthy businessman people whispered he was — a real estate mogul who owned dozens of apartments across the city.
Every time he came in, his eyes lingered on me, and his half-smile carried a mysterious air.
One evening, as I was wiping tables at the end of my shift, Michael unexpectedly stayed behind and asked to talk to me. He got straight to the point.
“Lisa,” he said calmly, “you’re young and beautiful, but life isn’t kind to people like you. I have a proposal — have a son for me. I’ll give you three billion dong. That’s enough for you to start a new life. A house, a car — whatever you want.”
His words sounded like sweet poison dripping into my ears. Three billion dollars— with that money, I could pay off Mom’s debts, open my tailoring shop, and send my little sister to college. I hesitated, but his cold, commanding gaze made me feel trapped.
“Alright… I’ll do it,” I whispered, my heart pounding.
Michael quickly rented a luxury apartment for me in center of city. Overnight, my life transformed — from a cramped, stuffy room to a world of leather sofas and air conditioning.
He gave me money, fine clothes, and comfort. But in return, I had to “be there” for him whenever he wanted. At night, as I lay beside him, silent tears slid down my face. “Just give birth to the baby,” I told myself, “and everything will be fine.”
