The room smelled of stale smoke and desperation.
Ariella Morgan stood between two armed men, her wrists trembling slightly at her sides. Her father knelt before the poker table, sweat dripping from his temple as he begged the man across from him.
"Please, Mr. Kane... I just need more time."
Lucien Kane didn't blink. He leaned back in his chair, dark eyes scanning Ariella like she was a glass of expensive wine—meant to be owned, tasted, discarded.
"You had time," he said coldly, swirling the last drop of bourbon in his glass. "Now I want what's owed."
"I don't have the money—"
"You do." Lucien's voice dropped an octave. "She's standing right in front of you."
Ariella gasped, her heart slamming into her chest.
"W-What?"
"She's twenty-one. Unmarried. Beautiful. Untouched, I assume?" Lucien arched an eyebrow without looking at her.
Her father said nothing. Silence was confirmation enough.
Lucien stood and walked toward her slowly, the room shrinking with every step he took. He stopped inches from her face. His cologne was rich and cold, like something forbidden.
"I'll wipe your entire debt clean," he said. "In exchange... she belongs to me. For one year."
Ariella stared at him, her mind racing. "I'm not for sale."
Lucien's lips curved slightly, not into a smile, but a warning.
"You were never the one making the deal."
The words hit like a slap. Her father said nothing. Not even a single protest.
Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not in front of him. Not in front of this monster wearing a suit.
Lucien tilted her chin up with two fingers. "You have spirit. I like that. But if you want to survive in my world, you'll need to learn one thing fast…"
He leaned in, his breath brushing her ear.
"Obedience."