The Canary's Final Price

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After Harrison went bankrupt, I was downgraded from a pampered canary with an unlimited black card to a fifteen-dollar-an-hour working girl.

My friends urged me to jump ship and find my next meal ticket.

I ignored them.

No matter how exhausting the daily grind became, I firmly stuck by his side. Eventually, Harrison clawed his way back to the top. His net worth skyrocketed, multiplying his old fortune several times over.

On the day he moved out, the towering man sat in my cramped apartment. The corners of his lips tipped up in a confident smirk. "Even though our contract is officially over, you can name your price. I'll agree to whatever you want."

A bright smile broke across my face. "Then I want a luxury Manhattan penthouse."

"And what else?"

"Nothing. That's it."

The smirk wiped clean off Harrison's face. He rigidly shoved a small velvet box behind his back. The muscles in his jaw ticked, his expression darkening into a hard scowl. "That's really it?"

Chapter 1

"Wh-what else should there be?" I tucked my chin and quietly scooted further away on the couch, sensing the air around Harrison crackle with a heavy, dangerous tension. "How about you also cover the property taxes and those ridiculous HOA fees for the next fifty years?"

Harrison sucked in a sharp breath. A deep crease formed between his dark brows. "Hazel, are you trying to insult me?"

Fair enough. He was ridiculously loaded now. Asking for a single Manhattan penthouse probably did sound like a slap in the face. I figured I should just be honest.

"Sorry. It's just that I don't plan on ever getting married. If I'm living alone and maybe get a dog someday, a penthouse is plenty of space for me."

Harrison froze. The hand he had kept hidden behind his back abruptly shoved into his slacks pocket. The silver face of his Patek Philippe watch flashed under the lights. When he spoke, his voice was entirely stripped of warmth.

"What a coincidence. I don't plan on getting married either. I agree to your terms. The contract is over anyway.

I'll wire an extra five million dollars to your account. Consider it a thank-you for taking such good care of me in bed all this time."

So generous! A massive grin broke across my face. The sheer dollar amount totally drowned out whatever he muttered in that first sentence. "Thank you, Harrison!"

He pressed his lips into a thin, hard line. Not another word left his mouth.

He slammed the apartment door shut behind him. A second later, a heavy thud echoed from the hallwaylike a fist forcefully hitting the metal trash can outside.

I pulled out my phone and happily dropped the news into our group chat. Honestly, I didn't have any real friends in the city. "The girls" were just the plus-ones and side pieces of Harrison's wealthy inner circle.

[Marshall's Spoiled Brat: Hazel, you had the ultimate chance to secure the bag and you asked for THAT? Get out.]

[Brooks's Stand-In: Next time you fumble a bag this badly, keep it to yourself. You're giving us second-hand embarrassment.]

[Bonnie on the Run: Manifesting a sugar daddy glow-up like this, minus the drama.]

Only Carrie in the [Manhattan Socialite Gossip Group] was actually paying attention to the details.

[Carrie: Serena's family has been pushing for a marriage alliance with Harrison forever. Word is they had dinner last week. An engagement is probably already in the works.]

[Carrie: Besides, Harrison is ruthless. The man drove his own brother to jump off a building. You think Hazel actually has the guts to extort him? He'd have his legal team throw her in federal prison in a heartbeat.]

[Me: Exactly! He looked like he wanted to murder someone when he left. It was terrifying! T_T]

Everyone knew Harrison was a complete nightmare to deal with. Sure, he was drop-dead gorgeous and filthy rich, but he had a trash temper and a million ridiculous rules. His stamina wasn't exactly human, either. He consistently left me with aching muscles and zero energy to get out of bed.

But back then, I was a perfectly obedient little canary. I swallowed it all because the money made it worth it.

Then, the news broke that Harrison had gone bankrupt.

Chapter 2

"Hazel, just go. I'm out of money."

Kicked out by his powerful family, his bespoke suit was a crumpled mess. He stood there, shoulders hunched, casting a lonely silhouette as if the entire world had turned its back on him.

Honestly? I genuinely wanted to bolt. But the gears in my head started spinning. Harrison was a golden boy who had just crashed into rock bottom.

If I threw him a lifeline now, he'd definitely owe me big time when he clawed his way back to the top. With his ruthless brain, making millions again was a guaranteed sure thing. It had to be a better bet than flipping burgers for minimum wage, right?

I yanked my foot back from the door. I tested the waters. "Actually, I secretly sold a few of those designer bags and shoes you gave me. I used the cash to buy a tiny apartment.

Harrison, do you want to come home with me?"

He gave a single, slow nod.

So, I brought him back to my cramped 600-square-foot place. We laid down some ground rules, tacking a few new clauses onto our original contract: One: While he was broke, Harrison couldn't just freelance as a couch potato. He had to work off his rent with chores.

Two: No more of his signature temper tantrums. Three: My house, my rules. If he pissed me off, he was banished to the tiny guest bedroom.

That night, sitting at the cheap dining table, Harrison devoured the massive portion of mac and cheese and fried bacon I made for him. He practically scraped the plate clean. Afterward, in an unprecedented miracle, he voluntarily washed the dishes. He stayed quiet the entire time, looking like a massive, drenched stray dog.

Late that night, Harrison slammed me roughly against the wall before tossing me onto the cheap, rickety spring mattress.

His scorching body pressed over mine, heavy and vibrating with aggressive dominance.

I shoved at his chest, protesting this absolute abuse of his savior's hospitality. "Take it easy! If you break this bed, I can't afford a new one!"

I tried to kick him away, but his large hand snatched my ankle. He kissed his way up my calf, his breath hot and ragged against my skin, yet his words were agonizingly careful. "Hazel, thank you for still choosing to love me. I swear, I won't make you live this kind of hard life for long."

Honestly, having a place of my own, no matter how tiny, where I could stay out of the rain and eat three hot meals a daythat had always been my ultimate dream. I genuinely didn't think this life was hard at all. But it seemed Harrison had misunderstood the situation.

Whatever. At least he looked fully charged again. That ruthless fire was back in his eyes.

Harrison had totally wrecked the metal trash can outside my door. I hauled the dented bin down to the ground floor. There was a sweet older guy on the first floor with mild dementia who always collected scrap metal around the complex. He looked at the ruined trash can like it was a shiny prize.

Playing the good Samaritan, I just handed it over to him.

Right around then, my phone buzzed with a bank notification. It was Harrison. He actually wired me a massive ten million dollars, with the transfer memo: Buying out the rest of your life.

Remembering all those TikTok lawyers warning that huge, romantically charged transfers could be legally clawed back or weaponized as extortion charges, I played it safe. I accepted the transfer, but kindly wired five million dollars right back to him, keeping only the originally agreed amount. The transaction remained unaccepted.

I shot him a quick text to remind him.

[Me: Harrison, you transferred way too much. I sent the extra back.]

A bright red exclamation mark popped up next to my text.

[Message Not Delivered.]

I stared at the screen.

Harrison had actually blocked me.

He always did this when he threw a temper tantrum. I had no idea what pissed him off this time.

I decided to just drop it and not reach out. For the next few days, Harrison went ghost.

I was more than happy to enjoy the peace and quiet, starting with doing a massive deep clean of the apartment.

Chapter 3

A few more days dragged by. Absolute silence from Harrison. My calls still went straight to voicemail, and my number remained firmly blocked. This violated his usual billionaire-level generosity.

Where was my luxury penthouse? I couldn't sit still anymore. I dialed his executive assistant's office.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Harrison's schedule is entirely private today. May I ask who's calling?"

I stumbled over my words, tongue-tied. Right. I almost forgot. Harrison was back on top of the food chain, which meant an entirely new executive team.

His current assistant had zero clue who I was. Our contract was dead and buried. We were legally nothing to each other. I didn't hold the VIP privileges of a pampered canary anymore.

"No one. Just a friend," I mumbled, awkwardly ending the call.

For the sake of my penthouse, I decided to ambush him in person. I waited outside Harrison's corporate high-rise for hours before a sleek, obsidian Maybach finally pulled up to the curb. The heavy car doors clicked open.

Harrison stepped out, his sharp profile cutting through the evening shadows. Right behind him, an elegant silhouette slid out of the backseat. The woman wore a stunning, pearlescent designer gown. Her back was to me, but her voice carried a crisp, practiced confidence.

"Harrison, I'm highly satisfied with you. Your looks and your pedigree perfectly meet my standards. I wouldn't mind taking the time to build some chemistry after the wedding."

Damn, straight to the point? Just looking at her perfect posture, I could tell she was flawless. This had to be Serena, the heiress aiming for the ultimate billionaire marriage alliance.

"I'm leaving now. In three days, bring your family trust documents and give me your answer."

Harrison's face was angled away from me. I couldn't read whatever expression he was wearing.

This was premium, top-tier gossip. The girls needed to know immediately. I shrank back against the concrete wall, dimming my screen to zero before quietly live-broadcasting the scene to the group chat.

[Hazel: @Everyone Get in here ASAP! Serena is literally proposing a marriage alliance to Harrison right now!]

[Image: Sneaky_Tree_Photo.jpg]

A flood of popcorn-eating reaction memes instantly blew up the chat. Someone dropped a question.

[Brooks's Stand-In: Hazel, in these three years, did you really never catch feelings for him?]

My thumbs hovered over the glass screen. For a second, my brain short-circuited on how to reply.

"Hearing all this doesn't it make you upset?" A low, gravelly male voice rumbled directly above my head, before reading out the chat name word for word. "The Diamond Birdcage Homeowners Association?"

Harrison was standing right behind me.

I didn't even hear him move.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I practically smashed the lock button on my phone. He had one hand shoved deep into his slacks pocket. His other hand impatiently yanked at his silk tie, loosening it.

The corners of his eyes were flushed, carrying the sharp scent of expensive whiskey. A heavy, unreadable storm brewed in his dark stare.

"Hazel, since when did you pick up a peeping habit?"

I took a quick step back. "I came here looking for you."

A sudden spark ignited in Harrison's eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed sharply. "You came looking for me?"

"Yeah. Here's the stuff you left at my apartment." I handed over the bag. "You rushed out the other day and forgot it, so I brought it over."

Harrison let out a harsh, tight laugh. "You really couldn't wait, could you? Is the sight of my things really that unbearable?"

"They were taking up too much space. The living room feels way bigger with them gone."

Harrison's breathing instantly grew heavy and ragged.

Chapter 4

He turned away to steady his breathing. When he finally spoke again, his voice was deceptively calm. "Did you hear what Serena just said?"

I nodded.

Harrison stared at me, his dark gaze burning right through me. "So? Do you have anything to say?"

I ducked my head, twisting my fingers together. "Yeah," I murmured.

"Hm?" The tight line of his shoulders slightly relaxed, a dangerous spark of hope flaring in his eyes.

The night wind swept through the empty street, rustling the leaves like a countdown. I gathered all my courage and looked him dead in the eye, my voice entirely sincere.

"I wish you a grand wedding of the century, and to have a few gorgeous heirs. And also that Manhattan penthouse you promised me. When are you making that happen?"

Harrisons voice went dead, stripped of every single trace of human emotion. "Is that blessing genuine