Chapter 1: The Debt

“What did you do, Dad?”

The question barely escaped her lips, each syllable heavy with disbelief and something deeper; betrayal.

Amelia Rivers stood frozen in the doorway of her tiny apartment, staring at the man she had spent her whole life trying to forgive.

Her father, James Rivers, looked nothing like the confident charmer she remembered from her childhood. He was a mess of trembling hands, disheveled clothes, and the faint stench of whiskey and cigarettes.

“I didn’t have a choice, Amy,” he croaked, his voice breaking. “I had no other way out.”

“No other way out of what?” Her voice rose, the sharp edge of her tone cutting through the humid air of the cramped space. She crossed her arms, feeling the weight of every promise he’d broken before.

“What did you do this time?”

James staggered into the apartment without waiting for an invitation, his shoulders sagging as he collapsed onto the nearest chair. He ran a hand over his thinning hair, avoiding her gaze. “It’s not like before. This isn’t just money problems. These people—he—” He stopped, swallowing hard.

“They’ll kill me, Amy. They’ll kill me if I don’t pay.”

Her stomach tightened. “How much?”

“Seven million dollars.”

The number hit her like a freight train, sucking the air from her lungs. Seven million? She could barely scrape together enough for rent and art supplies, let alone fathom a sum like that.

“Dad...” Her voice cracked. “Who the hell did you borrow that kind of money from?”

James finally looked at her, his eyes bloodshot and wide with desperation.

“Lucien Voss.”

The name lingered in the room, heavy and unfamiliar. Yet, even without knowing the man, it sounded dangerous. Sharp. Unyielding.

She shook her head, anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“And what, you thought you’d just show up here and I’d... I’d help you? How, Dad? Do you think I have that kind of money lying around?”

His silence stretched long enough for her to feel the answer before he said it.

“You don’t have to pay. Lucien—he—he said there’s another way.”

“What does that mean?” Her arms dropped to her sides, unease crawling up her spine.

Her father didn’t answer. The creak of the apartment door interrupted instead, followed by a silence so thick it made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She turned slowly.

The man standing in the doorway was nothing like she’d expected, though she hadn’t exactly expected anyone. He was tall, his broad shoulders filling the narrow frame of the door. His suit was charcoal gray, perfectly tailored, but it was his eyes—icy, piercing, and utterly devoid of warmth—that made her blood run cold.

“Miss Rivers,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet but carrying an undercurrent of menace. He stepped inside without invitation, his polished shoes clicking softly against the worn hardwood floor.

Amelia instinctively moved back, her body pressing against the counter as she clenched her fists.

“Who are you?”

The faintest hint of a smirk touched his lips.

“I believe your father has already introduced me.”

Her eyes darted to James, who now looked smaller than ever, his head bowed like a man awaiting judgment.

Lucien’s gaze followed hers.

“I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but under the circumstances...” He let the words hang, his tone as cold as his stare.

Amelia straightened, summoning whatever courage she could find.

“I don’t care who you are. You can’t just walk into my home like this.”

Lucien took another step forward, and though his movements were deliberate, they carried a quiet dominance that made the small room feel even smaller.

“Your father owes me seven million dollars, Miss Rivers. Money he doesn’t have. Money he’s not going to have.”

“That’s not my problem,” she snapped, though her voice faltered slightly.

“Ah,” Lucien said, his smirk growing into something more sinister.

“But it is. Because your father has offered me... you.”

The air left the room.

For a moment, she thought she’d misheard him. “Excuse me?”

Lucien tilted his head, studying her as if she were an object, a piece of merchandise he was considering buying. It made her skin crawl.

“To erase the debt, your father proposed an alternative form of payment. You.”

“That’s insane,” she said, her voice shaking now. “I’m not a... a bargaining chip!”

James finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Amy, please. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Her head whipped toward him.

“You didn’t know what else to do? So you just decided to sell me to this.. this...” She gestured toward Lucien, struggling to find a word that encompassed the cold, unyielding figure looming in her apartment.

“Call me whatever you like,” Lucien said, his voice cutting through her panic.

“But the fact remains: your father made a deal, and I intend to collect.”

“Over my dead body,” she spat, though her hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the counter.

Lucien’s smirk faded, replaced by something darker.

“That can be arranged, though I’d prefer not to waste the opportunity.”

Her heart pounded, the weight of his words pressing against her chest.

“Opportunity for what?”

“To marry you, of course.”

The room spun. She gripped the counter tighter, as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. “You’re insane.”

“No,” Lucien said, stepping closer until he was just feet away from her.

“I’m a businessman. And this arrangement is... mutually beneficial.”

Amelia’s breath hitched as Lucien’s piercing gaze locked onto hers, his icy gray eyes unwavering. It wasn’t just the way he looked at her, it was the weight of his presence, the suffocating sense of inevitability he carried like a shadow.

“For you, maybe,” she snapped, her voice trembling with defiance that felt paper-thin under his scrutiny.

“For you too,” Lucien countered, his tone maddeningly calm, unyielding like the tide.

“Your father walks free. You step into a life of wealth, privilege... safety. And I get what I need.”

She swallowed hard, her chest tightening with the weight of his words. Safety. As if this arrangement offered anything remotely close to that.

Her voice faltered as she asked, “And what’s that?”

Lucien tilted his head slightly, as though her question amused him. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, his smirk sharp enough to draw blood. He let the silence stretch, the tension thickening until it became almost unbearable.

“Control,” he finally said, the single word slicing through the air like a blade.

It wasn’t just the word, it was the way he said it. Quiet, deliberate, as though control wasn’t just a want but a truth that defined him. The kind of truth that wouldn’t bend, no matter how much she resisted.

Amelia’s stomach churned, a mix of fury and fear battling within her.

“You’re insane,” she muttered, but her voice barely carried, her confidence cracking under the weight of his presence.

Lucien’s smirk deepened as he stepped closer, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a sleek black card, placing it on the counter between them.

“You have twenty-four hours to decide,” he said, his voice low, steady, and dripping with menace.

“Call this number when you’ve made your choice.”

Amelia stared at the card, its edges pristine, the embossed numbers almost mocking her.

“This isn’t a request, Miss Rivers,” Lucien added, his tone soft but laced with undeniable finality. “It’s a reality.”

His words reverberated through her, each syllable pressing down like a vice. Before she could muster a response, he turned sharply on his heel and strode toward the door. His footsteps echoed in the silence, each one a reminder that her life, her choices, were no longer her own.

As the door closed behind him with a quiet click, the stillness of the room enveloped her. Amelia stood frozen, her hands gripping the counter as though it might anchor her to the crumbling fragments of her world.

Her father’s voice broke the silence, weak and trembling. “Amy, I didn’t mean...”

“Don’t.” She cut him off, her voice low and shaking, her eyes fixed on the card. The black rectangle seemed to pulse with the weight of what it represented: her freedom, her future, her very existence, all bartered away like a cheap trinket.

For the first time in her life, Amelia Rivers felt truly powerless.

And Lucien Voss had made sure she understood exactly why.