No Other Choices

“I told you to keep me updated!” Bethany snapped, prompting Alexandra to pull the phone away from her ear momentarily. “I’ve been worried sick all night.”

“I’m sorry,” Alexandra apologized, stepping into the building. “I’ve been trying to source some money. The doctor is asking for three million.”

“What?” Bethany gasped, her voice rising in alarm.

“That’s not even the cost of the surgery,” Alexandra added bitterly. “It’s just to find a donor.”

“What are you going to do?” Bethany’s voice wavered. “I know you don’t have that kind of money.”

“I don’t know, Beth,” Alexandra admitted, running a hand through her fiery red hair. “But I’ve managed to save five hundred thousand. I’m at the bank now to deposit it at the hospital. I’ll figure out the rest somehow.”

“Don’t tell me...” Bethany trailed off, already guessing, and Alexandra nodded grimly.

“Yes, it’s everything I’ve saved,” Alexandra confirmed. Bethany knew just how hard she had worked to save that money. Alexandra had been planning to use it to train herself in a culinary school and eventually open her dream bakery.

It was everything she’d been working toward.

“I’m so sorry I can’t help,” Bethany said softly, her voice filled with regret. Alexandra nodded again as the person in front of her in the queue stepped away. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she added, “I’ll call you back as soon as I’m done here.”

“Good day, ma’am,” one of the tellers greeted as Alexandra stepped up to the counter, handing over her bank book.

“How may I assist you today?” the teller asked.

“I’d like to make a withdrawal from this account,” Alexandra replied, pointing to the details in her bank book. The teller flipped through its pages before typing the account number into her computer.

After a moment, the teller’s fingers paused, her eyes narrowing at the screen.

“How much are you planning to withdraw?” she asked, her tone suddenly cautious.

“Five hundred thousand,” Alexandra answered, exhaling deeply. “I know it’s the entire amount, but I’m in a tight spot. I’ll start saving again as soon as I can.”

“Five hundred thousand?” the teller repeated in surprise before glancing back at the screen. “Ma’am, you don’t have that much in your account.”

“What?” Alexandra’s eyes widened in shock.

“It says here you made a withdrawal in February,” the teller explained, reading from the computer.

Alexandra’s heart raced, dread pooling in her chest.

“No, I didn’t!” Alexandra declared firmly. “That shouldn’t be possible—it’s a savings account. The only person who can access that money, aside from me, is…”

Her voice trailed off as dread settled in. Pacing around the lobby, she frantically dialed her father’s number, her phone pressed tightly to her ear.

“Pick up! Pick up!” she snapped, her voice breaking as she burst into tears.

Her worst fears were confirmed—her father, the authorized signatory on the account, must have withdrawn the money without telling her. He was the only one who could. She clenched her fists, suspecting he’d gambled it away, just like he always do.

But she had promised the doctor the deposit. She had to deliver it today no matter what.

Her heart racing, she rushed upstairs to her father’s room. He hadn’t been home in a while, but she hoped to find proof—something to confirm he’d taken the money or at least a clue to track him down.

Tears streamed down her face unnoticed, and her trembling fingers rifled through drawers, papers, and every corner of the room. After nearly an hour of fruitless searching, she crumpled by the side of the bed, clutching her chest.

Pain, hurt, and betrayal overwhelmed her.

Her father had never truly been there for her. He prioritized gambling over family, disappearing for days at a time, only to return penniless. Alexandra had taken the responsibility of herself and her sister, working part-time jobs to save money. Being underage at the time, she couldn’t open a bank account without an adult signatory, so she had reluctantly made him the custodian.

She never imagined it would come to this.

A sudden loud bang at the door jolted her from her despair. Wiping her face hurriedly, she rushed downstairs, stumbling in her haste but she picked herself as she stomped towards the door. She flung the door open, hoping to see her father.

Instead, she was met by a group of menacing strangers.

The man in front of the gang had a large, ugly scar on his jaw, which only added to his intimidating presence. All their eyes bore into her, and Alexandra froze in fear.

Wiping her tear-streaked face nervously, she stammered, “W-Who are you?”

The scarred man’s voice was deep and harsh. “We heard this is Adam Colton’s house.”

“He isn’t here at the moment,” she managed to mutter, her voice trembling. She began to close the door, but before it could shut completely, the man kicked it open.

The force sent Alexandra flying.

“What do you mean by ‘he isn’t here at the moment?’” the scarred man bellowed, his voice echoing as Alexandra tried to scramble to her feet. “Do you know how hard it was to find this place? Closing the door in the face of your guest is downright disrespectful.”

The men towered over her, their eyes scanned the living room with contempt. Alexandra didn’t know who they were or why they were here, but they smelled like trouble—and she already had more than enough on her plate today.

“I don’t know why you’re looking for my father,” she said, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to hold her ground, “but he hasn’t been here in the last three months.”

The scarred man, who appeared to be their leader, smirked, clearly unfazed by her response. “So, you’re his daughter,” he said with mock amusement. He snapped his fingers, and one of the men stepped forward, handing him a piece of paper.

“Well,” the man continued, unfolding the paper deliberately, “you should know that your father owes my company a considerable amount of money. And since we can’t find him, you’ll be the one to pay.”

“What?” Alexandra blurted, disbelief etched across her face. “That’s absurd! You can’t just show up here, spouting nonsense about a debt I know nothing about, and expect me to pay!”

She paused, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to calm herself.

“Listen, I have enough going on already,” she muttered, her voice breaking as tears threatened to spill again. “I’ll ask you to leave now before I call the police.”

The scarred man chuckled darkly, taking a step closer to her. “And who do you think you’re talking to?” he sneered.

*****

Alexandra sat amidst the ruins of the living room, her body aching. She had learned the hard way that the men were not ordinary debt collectors but loan sharks. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, wincing as the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

They weren’t gentlemen, not by a long shot. Their threats still echoed in her ears even though they were long gone: Pay up in three days, or we’ll sell you.

And Alexandra knew they could do it.

Tears welled up in her eyes as the crushing weight of her reality set in. She was now burdened with a debt that wasn’t hers, her sister’s life-threatening medical crisis, and no means to solve either problem.

She couldn’t take out a loan—no bank would approve her. Her father wasn’t answering her calls.

Her trembling hands reached for her purse. She dug inside and pulled out the sleek black card the man had handed her earlier. It felt heavy in her palm.

The offer he’d made her. Ten million. It was enough to settle everything and it’s not like she had a choice anymore.

She dialed the number on the card and waited for the receiver...

“Who is this?” A smooth, honeyed voice came through the line, gentle and warm. The softness of his tone was siren; it broke her defenses.

“It’s Alexandra Colton,” she managed between sniffles, though her tears refused to stop. Her voice wavered as she wiped her face, but the flood wouldn’t cease.

“Does your offer still stand?”