The CEO's Paper Bride: Too Late for Love

Madeline's POV

My heart thundered in my chest as I sprinted through the quiet streets toward my aunt's house, the sharp slap of my sneakers against the pavement barely louder than the storm brewing inside me. Gina had called me in a panic, her voice trembling as she told me she saw a line of sleek black cars parked outside our home. She thought something was terribly wrong.

I didn't even finish explaining to my boss. I just peeled off my apron and dashed out of the convenience store, the fluorescent lights behind me fading as fear gripped my spine like ice. I knew those cars weren't just a coincidence.

The moment I turned the corner and saw them for myself, my breath hitched, and I realized my best friend was right.

Men in tailored black suits stood like statues around our quaint little house, their expressions unreadable, their presence like an ominous shadow swallowing the familiar. It looked like a scene from a crime thriller-except this was real, and they were at my door.

I ducked behind a tree for a second, trying to gather my courage. My heart wouldn't stop pounding. I clutched my phone to my chest, willing myself to stay calm.

What kind of trouble had my aunt gotten into?

I knew we were drowning in debt ever since Mom got sick. The hospital bills alone had been a mountain we could never seem to climb. And Aunt Liza-she took us in without question. I still remember the night we knocked on her door, soaked from the rain, carrying everything we had left in two duffle bags. She welcomed us like we were her own.

She never complained. Not even once, and I owed her everything.

And I promised myself I'd help her. I worked part-time jobs just to keep up with our expenses. If there was one thing I could do to spare her from the weight of that crushing debt, I would do it-no questions asked. Even if it meant sacrificing my own dreams.

"Are you Madeline Brownwood?" a voice called out, breaking through my thoughts.

One of the suited men stepped forward. His voice was calm but firm, and I barely managed a nod. My throat felt tight like the words I wanted to speak had been stolen from me.

"We've been waiting for you," he said, his tone polite but unmistakably authoritative. "Please, allow us inside. There's something we need to discuss."

Every step I took behind him felt like I was walking into something far bigger than I could understand. The living room looked exactly the same-cozy and warm-but the atmosphere was suffocating. My eyes fell on the couch.

And that's when I saw my belongings lined up. Ready to go.

The floor tilted beneath me.

My aunt stood up, tears already falling from her eyes. She rushed toward me, her hands trembling as she cupped my face.

"I'm so sorry, Maddie," she said softly, her voice cracking. "Mr. Divenson has