It was late, the clock ticking past midnight as I stood under the bathroom light, lining my eyes with a careful, practiced hand.

I looked back at myself in the mirror, eyes shadowed from lack of sleep and memories that wouldn’t let go. Still, I put on the mask, swiping my lips with a dark red stain that I knew would pop against the dim lights of the club. A last touch of highlighter on my cheekbones, and there she was—my armor.

I slipped into a black dress, fitted and sleek, hugging each curve. The fabric clung to me like a second skin, plunging low enough to hint but not reveal everything. I twisted a lock of hair over my shoulder, appraising the look. Sexy, sure, but just enough that it was still on my terms. I’d learned to walk that line well.

This was my life now. Two years ago, I might’ve balked at the thought. But then Mom died, a senseless act that took away my only real support. And just a year later, I lost my job.

Everything changed in those short months. I’d looked for other work, anything to make ends meet, but nobody was hiring a young girl with no degree and no credentials. Dad wasn’t any help—last I heard, he was down south, drowning in poker chips and broken promises. He hadn’t called in months.

So, here I am, a stripper in a nightclub, shaking hands with men who have no idea who I really am. They see the girl in the tight dress, the seductive glance. But they don’t know me, not really. I’ve slept with some of them, sure. It pays. I used to think I’d feel guilt, but it’s just survival now.

I adjusted my dress, straightened my shoulders, and gave myself one last look. Time to hit the club.

****

The bass thrummed through my body as I moved, each sway and dip of my hips tuned to the rhythm. The room was foggy with smoke and perfume, and the heavy gaze of men fixed on me like spotlights.

I let my dress slip down an inch, then another, teasing the crowd as they leaned in, eager for more. But my attention had locked on someone else.

Across the room, I saw him—a man in a tailored suit that fit him like it was stitched to his skin. He looked clean-cut like he’d walked out of some luxury ad with his sharp jawline and a dark stubble that seemed more deliberate than rugged.

His hair was slicked back, neat but with just a hint of defiance in the stray strands that didn’t quite conform. But it was his eyes that had me. Dark and intense, they were fixed on me, unmoving, as if I were the only person in this crowded club.

He took a sip from his glass of wine, his gaze never faltering. And that was all the invitation I needed. I sashayed over to him, letting my fingers trail along his shoulder as I passed, his scent—woodsy, expensive—lingering in the air.

I turned to face him, rolling my hips in time with the beat, my body inches from his. With a smirk, I lowered myself to his level, pressing one hand against his thigh and letting it drift slowly toward his groin. His jaw clenched slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked me over, his calm demeanor masking the pressure boiling beneath.

He was almost too good-looking, too polished, too perfect. I wouldn’t mind a night with him—hell, he was tempting enough that I might even let it slide for free.

But I knew he’d have no problem paying for what he wanted. I could tell by the way he looked at me, steady and certain, that he wouldn’t resist if I suggested we take this somewhere else. And I was more than ready to make him want that.

I grabbed his tie, tugging him up with a playful smirk. I could already feel myself heating up, that familiar ache building as I thought of where this was headed.

Dancing for him stirred something wild in me, a thrill that made me want to let go, to pour myself out over him like a storm. No shame, just raw desire.

Leading him through the crowded club, I took him upstairs to one of the private rooms. As soon as we were alone, I shut the door behind us, my body pulsing with eagerness.

I felt something hard sliding through my panties, my breath catching as I sank into the sensation, a soft moan slipping past my lips. My eyes fluttered shut, savoring the moment, already lost in it.

But then I heard it—a distinct metallic click, like a gun being readied. My eyes snapped open, and I gasped, realizing that wasn’t what I’d thought it was.

The man held a gun, and before I could move, he wrapped his hand around my neck, pressing me back against the wall.

His grip tightened, his face inches from mine, his eyes dark and dangerous.

“Surprised?”

I gasped as his hand tightened around my neck, pressing me against the wall. The fear is already compounding to a whole new level; my brain is a huge mess.

This wasn’t just some club guy looking for a private show—this was a threat, one I hadn’t seen coming until it was too late.

“Surprised?” He asked lowly and coldly, a mocking edge in his tone.

I tried to wrench free, but his hold was unrelenting. “What… what do you want?”

He smirked, tilting his head slightly as he studied me.

“Kylie, I think it’s time you come with me,” he murmured, and before I could respond, he reached into his jacket pocket.

In a blink, he pressed something against my neck, and I felt a sharp sting. Warmth spread under my skin as my vision started to blur.

I tried to speak, to move, but my limbs felt like they were sinking, growing heavy. My mind clouded, my surroundings fading into darkness.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on a bed. For a few seconds, I just lay there, trying to shake off the haze in my mind. Slowly, I pushed myself up, blinking as I took in the room around me. Unlike the smoky, pulsing club I’d been in moments before, this place was quiet, the air still and heavy.

The bedroom was opulent, with dark wood furniture and deep burgundy walls. Heavy curtains blocked out most of the light, giving the space a dim, foreboding feel.

I could smell his cologne—woodsy, expensive, just like in the club. I felt a shiver crawl down my spine.

Forcing myself to sit up fully, I rubbed my neck where he’d grabbed me, my fingers brushing over the sore spot.

What the hell had he done to me?

Just then, the door opened, and the man from the club entered. He looked different now, more in control, as if he’d shed whatever pretense he’d held back there.

His eyes were sharper and colder, and he regarded me with a faint smirk as he closed the door behind him.

“Good, you’re awake,” he said smoothly, folding his arms as he watched me. “Let’s get a few things straight.”

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

“What do you want with me?” I demanded, my words barely steady.

He arched an eyebrow; his expression was unchanging. “Well, Kylie, I’m Damian Gorazo. And we need to have a little chat about your father.”

My stomach dropped. The name was familiar, whispered about in the city’s dark corners.

Damian Gorazo was a name people avoided saying out loud, one that carried a chilling reputation. But I never thought I’d come face-to-face with him.

“I don’t know where my father is,” I managed to say. “And I don’t know what he did, but it’s not my problem. You can let me go.”

He chuckled a cold, humorless sound.

“Oh, Kylie, you misunderstand. I’m not here because I think you know where he is. I’m here because he owes me—a debt he’s been dodging for far too long.”

“Then take it up with him,” I shot back, fighting to keep the tremor out of my voice. “I haven’t even seen him in months.”

“I’m well aware,” Damian replied smoothly, taking a few steps closer to the bed.

His gaze didn’t waver one bit.

“But since he’s decided to disappear, I thought it only fair that his debt falls to you.”

“Falls to me? I don’t owe you anything!”

He smiled, a cruel glint in his eye. “Not yet. But your father’s debt doesn’t just vanish. He thought he could run, that I’d lose interest. But no one gets away from me, Kylie.”

He paused, his gaze raking over me. “And now you’re going to work it off for him.”

I shook my head, my throat tightening. “You can’t just drag me into this. I have nothing to do with his mess.”

“Whether you want to be involved or not is irrelevant,” he replied icily, his smirk not leaving his face one bit.

“Your father made his choices. Now, you’ll deal with the consequences.”

My mind reeled, scrambling for some way out, some argument that might convince him to let me go.

“And if I refuse?”

His smirk widened, dark amusement flashing in his eyes.

“You don’t have a choice. Your father left you in my hands, Kylie. If you don’t cooperate willingly, I’ll simply have to... persuade you.”

A chill raced through me. I didn’t know what he meant, but every instinct told me it wouldn’t end well for me.

He moved closer—so close I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, even as his expression remained cold.

“You’ll do as I say, and in return, you’ll stay alive.”

He let the words hang in the air, the unspoken threat lingering between us.

I forced myself to meet his gaze, refusing to let him see my fear.

“And if I do... what, exactly, will I be doing?”

He chuckled softly, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that made my skin crawl.

“Don’t worry. For now, you’ll stay here. Safe. And out of trouble.”

“Safe?” I scoffed, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice. “You call this safe? You kidnapped me. Drugged me. How is that safe?”

“It’s safer than what would happen if I left you to your own devices. Out there, people are looking for your father. They won’t be as lenient as I am.”

“Lenient,” I repeated. “You’re holding me hostage. How exactly is that lenient?”

He tilted his head, his expression calm, almost mocking.

“Because, Kylie, I could have done much worse. Remember that.”

He straightened, his gaze hardening. “Get some rest. You’ll need your strength for what’s to come.”

Without waiting for my response, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with a pounding heart and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I stared after him, my mind racing. I had no idea what he had planned, but I knew one thing: I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. If he thought I’d just roll over and accept whatever he demanded, he was in for a surprise.

For now, I had to bide my time to figure out a way out of this. Because if Damian Gorazo thought I was going to pay for my father’s mistakes, he was dead wrong.

I watched the door close behind him, my mind spinning with anger and confusion. The nerve of this guy swooping in and dragging me into some twisted payback scheme for my father.

I barely even knew the man who’d left me years ago with nothing but a memory of broken promises, and now his debt was supposed to be mine. No, I wasn’t just going to sit here and let Damian decide my fate.

I threw off the blanket and bolted out of bed, my head still slightly spinning from whatever he’d injected me with, but I forced myself to stay steady.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and followed the quiet hallway toward the room he’d disappeared into. Dark wood paneling lined the walls, and expensive paintings stared down at me like silent judges.

It didn’t matter. I didn’t care if this place looked like a museum—I wasn’t about to be another piece in his collection.

I found him in a sitting room with a decanter of whisky in his hand, already pouring himself a glass. The arrogance was enough to make my blood boil—the way he just settled into this quiet, luxurious space like nothing in the world could touch him.

“What the hell is this?” I demanded, crossing the room toward him. “You think you can just kidnap me, hold me hostage, and then act like you’re doing me some kind of favor?" I don’t owe you anything!”

He barely lifted his eyes from the glass as he swirled the amber liquid, his mouth twisting into that same mocking smirk.

“Kylie, you’re not listening. This isn’t about what you think you owe. It’s about what’s required of you. You don’t have to like it, but I’d suggest you get used to it.”

I clenched my fists, not backing down. “You’re insane if you think I’m going along with this. I have a life, Damian. You can’t just rip me away from everything and expect me to be fine with it.”

At that, he set his glass down and turned to face me fully, his eyes darkening as he took a step toward me.

“Shut up.”

His voice was low and controlled, but there was a fierce edge that sent a chill down my spine. I instinctively took a step back, but I couldn’t let him see me cower. Not now.

“You don’t get it, do you?” He continued, his tone harder now, filled with frustration.

“Your father was playing a game he could never win. He thought he could disappear, leave his mess behind, and nobody would come looking. But that’s not how things work. And until he pays up, you’re mine to handle.”

“Handle?” I echoed, not able to keep the disdain from my words. “I’m not some object you can just push around to settle a score.”

His jaw clenched, a flash of something dangerous crossing his face.

“I’m not here to play nice with you, Kylie,” he said coldly.

“Your father owes me, and until he shows up, you’re in his place. And whether you like it or not, I’m the one calling the shots.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to just roll over and accept this!” I shot back, even though my voice was shaking.

“I’m not some pawn in your twisted game.”

He took another step closer, the space between us shrinking until I could feel the heat of his anger.

“This isn’t a negotiation. Do you want to blame someone? Blame your father. If he’d kept his end of the bargain, you wouldn’t be here. But he didn’t. So now, you’re part of the collateral.”

“I had nothing to do with any of this!” I said, frustration building with every word.

“I’m just… I’m just trying to survive like everyone else. And now you’re dragging me into some vendetta because my father screwed up?”

“Enough!” he barked.

“You don’t seem to understand the position you’re in. You’re here because I chose to keep you alive, not because you have any right to question me.”

“Keep me alive?” I scoffed despite the fear churning in my stomach.

“You mean you’re holding me here against my will and threatening me for something I didn’t do?”

“Keep pushing, Kylie, and see where it gets you.”

I swallowed, my pulse thundering in my ears as his words settled over me. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to run, but I forced myself to hold my ground, to not let him see the fear he was so clearly aiming to evoke.

“What do you even want from me?” I asked, my voice softer now, nearly a whisper.

“I’m not my father. I don’t have anything to give you.”

“I know exactly who you are, Kylie. You’re leverage. A way to remind your father that he can’t just run from his debts. And if that doesn’t work... well, there are other ways to get what I need.”

A wave of nausea rolled through me as his words sank in. He wasn’t here to negotiate, wasn’t here to let me walk away. I was nothing more than a tool, a piece in whatever twisted plan he had in mind.

He might think he had all the power, that he could just bend me to his will, but he was wrong. I wasn’t going to let him use me like some pawn. I would find a way out of this. I didn’t know how yet, but I wasn’t going to let him control me.

His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, like he could see the defiance. With a final, dark smile, he turned away, picking up his glass and sipping from it like our conversation had never happened.

“Now,” he said calmly, settling back into his chair. “Go back to your room and get some rest. You’ll need it.”

Forcing my legs to move, I backed out of the room, unwilling to turn my back on him until I was safely in the hallway. The door clicked shut behind me, and I released a shaky breath.

I stumbled back down the hall, back into the bedroom he’d locked me in, and sank on the bed, my mind racing.

There had to be a way out of this. Maybe I could find a way to contact someone who could help me. But who? And would anyone even believe me?

I lay back against the pillows, closing my eyes and forcing myself to breathe, to focus. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but one thing was certain: I was not going to let Damian Gorazo decide my fate.

He might think he had me cornered, but he hadn’t seen what I was capable of yet. And as long as I had even a sliver of control, I wasn’t about to let him take that away from me.

I sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets in my fists, as I could hear the sounds of his footsteps. My heart was beating too fast; the anger and fear were surging through me in equal measure.

I was still trying to steady my breathing when the door opened, and I looked up, expecting to see Damian’s mocking smirk. But the cold expression he wore was different this time—his gaze sharper, his movements more measured.

He didn’t speak as he crossed the room; instead, he pulled something from his pocket, a set of chains glinting in the dim light.

My stomach dropped. Why did he have chains? What was he planning to do to me with that?

“What… what are you doing?” I asked in a whisper.

I tried to move back to keep some distance between us, but the bed’s edge stopped me short.

“You think chaining me is going to make me agree to anything?”

Damian’s smirk returned, but this time, it held no humor.

“You’re right, Kylie. This isn’t a negotiation. It’s time you understand the reality of your position here.”

He reached forward, his hand wrapping around my wrist, and before I could pull away, I felt the cold metal snap shut around it.

The chain clinked as he secured the other end to the bedpost, and I pulled against it instinctively, my heart racing even faster. I felt the bite of metal against my skin, and a flicker of panic shot through me.

“What is this supposed to accomplish?” I spat, trying to keep the fear hidden. “You think I’ll just... agree to whatever insane plan you have because you’ve chained me up?”

“Oh, you’ll agree,” he replied softly but with a dark confidence. “Because you have no other choice.”

I glared at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me afraid.

“You’re delusional if you think I’ll agree to anything you want.”

He only chuckled, taking a step back and crossing his arms as he looked down at me, his expression calculating.

“You’re stronger than I expected; I’ll give you that. But even strong people break. And this choice is simple.”

I stayed silent, unwilling to give him any response, but he continued.

“Kylie, here’s what you’re going to do,” he said, his tone almost conversational, as if he were discussing something trivial.

“You have two options. You can either agree to be my wife for one year and, in that time, work off your father’s debt, or...”

He paused, letting the silence sink in, a cruel expression on his face.

“Or, I can ensure that both you and your father disappear. Permanently.”

I couldn’t breathe. His words cut through me, chilling me to the core. I shook my head, forcing myself to speak, though my words trembled.

“You’re asking me to... marry you? For a year?”

“I’m not asking,” he replied calmly. “I’m telling you how this works. You’ll be mine for a year. A very manageable arrangement, considering the alternative.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. The whole thing felt twisted like I’d fallen into some nightmare.

“You’re insane,” I said, forcing the words out even as fear and disbelief churned in my stomach. "This... this isn’t normal. You can’t just make me your wife.”

Damian’s smirk deepened. “Believe me, Kylie, I’m fully aware of what’s normal. But you’re the one who came into my life with a debt hanging over you. I’m simply collecting.”

I yanked against the chains again, my wrist already aching from its force.

“And what if I say no?”

He tilted his head slightly. “If you say no, then I won’t hesitate. Your father’s life will end within days. And I don’t think I need to explain what will happen to you.”

I felt sick. It wasn’t just a threat—it was a promise, one I had no doubt he’d follow through on. But I couldn’t just agree; I couldn’t just hand over my life, my freedom, to this man who seemed to take pleasure in tearing everything I’d ever known apart.

“I won’t do it. I won’t marry you.”

Damian’s smile didn’t disappear. If anything, he seemed almost amused.

“I expected as much. But don’t worry. I’ll leave you some time to think it over. When you’re ready to make the right decision, you know where to find me.”

He turned toward the door, and a rush of desperation filled me. “This won’t change anything, you bastard!”

I called after him, struggling against the chains even though I knew it was useless.

“You can’t force me into this!”

He paused at the doorway, glancing back at me with an unsettling calm.

“It’s simple, Kylie. You’re either with me or against me. Choose wisely.”

And with that, he slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind him, leaving me alone with nothing but the pressure of his words and the cold metal against my wrist.

I slumped back against the headboard, my chest heaving with a mix of anger and fear. I was chained, trapped, and, for the first time, truly alone. The silence of the room pressed down on me, suffocating and filling my mind with thoughts I didn’t want to consider.

My father. I thought of him—wherever he was, hidden away, probably oblivious to the fact that his past had caught up with me instead of him. I felt a sharp pang of bitterness; all my life, I’d tried to move on, to leave his memory behind. And now, because of him, I was staring down a choice that felt more like a death sentence.

The thought of being Damian’s wife, even for a year, felt like surrender. And yet, I could see the cruel logic in his twisted offer. He had all the power. If I refused, he wouldn’t just end my father’s life; he’d probably make me disappear as well. I was backed into a corner, and the walls were closing in.

I tugged against the chains one last time, my wrists raw from the effort, but they didn’t budge. He had made sure of that.

I couldn’t shake the image of Damian's cold smile, that horrifying certainty in his eyes as he laid out my options. The chains clinked with every small movement, and this was how he’d taken control of everything.

My life wasn’t mine anymore. Not unless I found a way out.

Anger burst through the fear. I wouldn’t be his doll; I wouldn’t let him trap me here like some goddamn plaything. I had to do something.

I tugged at the chains again, harder this time, my wrist aching as I pulled against the metal loop. I twisted, my fingers scraping against the bolt where it was fastened to the bedpost.

It wouldn’t give. Crap! This is so crazy.

I forced myself to take a slow breath. If I wanted to survive, I needed a plan, not just desperation.

I began to twist my wrist in the chain, gritting my teeth against the pain as I forced my hand to angle just right. Slowly, painfully, I inched my hand out from the manacle, biting back a cry as the metal scraped my skin raw.

Finally, my hand slid free, and I held my breath, listening for any sound outside the door.

The hallway was silent.

I didn’t waste a second. Quietly, I slipped off the bed, moved to the door, and pressed my ear against it. Still no footsteps. I slowly opened the door, peering into the dimly lit hallway.

Empty.

My heart was beating hard as I slipped out, keeping to the shadows as I made my way down the corridor. The hallway stretched on, lined with dark, polished wood and expensive paintings that seemed to stare at me with judgment.

I ignored the fear coming along, forcing myself to focus.

I needed to find a way out of this place fast. I didn’t know the layout of the mansion, but I moved down the hall, hoping I could find some sort of exit.

At the end of the corridor, I spotted a staircase. I hurried down it, keeping my steps as light as possible. My wrist throbbed from where the metal had cut into it, but I pushed the pain aside.

Just a little farther, I told myself. I could practically taste the freedom.

At the bottom of the staircase, I found myself in another hallway, and then I saw it—a door with a faint sliver of moonlight seeping through a crack—an exit. I moved toward it, my heart racing with each step.

But just as I reached out for the handle, a shadow shifted in the doorway, and a tall man stepped into my path. He looked at me, surprised, and grinned lazily.

“Well, look what we have here,” he drawled, giving me a dirty face. “Thought you could sneak out, did you?”

I backed away, trying to keep my expression defiant even as my pulse spiked.

“Get out of my way,” I told him, but inside, I was shaking with fear.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” He reached out, his hand closing around my arm with a bruising grip, and he pulled me closer.

I twisted in his grasp, but his fingers only tightened, digging into my skin as his other hand came up, tracing a line along my cheek.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he murmured mockingly. “Seems a shame for the boss to keep you all to himself.”

“Let go of me!” I tried to pull free. Panic seized me as he ignored my protests, his hand tightening around my waist.

But before he could take it any further, I heard a harsh voice from behind him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I froze, and so did he. His grip loosened a little bit as he turned, and I caught sight of Damian standing in the doorway, his expression like thunder.

A dark fury blazed in his eyes as he took in the scene, his gaze hardening on the man’s hand still gripping me.

The man tried to laugh it off, releasing me and stepping back with his hands up.

“Boss, I was just keeping an eye on her. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

Damian’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, his anger only deepened.

In one swift move, he stepped forward, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him back against the wall with a force that made the entire hallway shudder. The man’s face went pale, his cocky grin vanishing as he tried to stammer out an excuse.

“Bo...boss, I—”

Damian didn’t give him a chance to finish. His fist shot out, connecting with the man’s jaw in a brutal punch that left him reeling.

I flinched as Damian struck him again, harder this time, a merciless fury in each blow. Blood spattered the wall as Damian drove his fist into the man’s face, again and again, until he slumped, dazed, and barely conscious.

I stumbled back, watching in shock as Damian reached into his jacket, pulling out a gun. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t so much as blink as he raised it and fired, the gunshot ringing out loud and finally in the hallway.

The man collapsed to the floor, lifeless.

I stood frozen, my mind shaking from the brutal sight. Damian lowered the gun, his gaze shifting to me, and there was nothing like regret in his eyes. Just that same old cold stare.

“You should have stayed in your room, Kylie,” he said quietly, tucking the gun back into his jacket. “I didn’t want you to see that.”

I swallowed, backing away even as I forced myself to meet his gaze.

“You’re a monster. How can you do something like that?”

Damian’s expression hardened.

“He crossed a line. And no one touches what’s mine.”

I felt a sick twist of anger and disgust.

“I am not yours,” I spat. “I don’t belong to you, no matter what you think.”

His jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, his gaze pinning me in place.

“You’re here because your father left me no other choice. I told you, this isn’t personal. But make no mistake—your life is mine until his debt is paid.”

I shook my head, unable to believe the cold certainty in his tone.

“I don’t care about my father’s debt. I won’t let you do this to me.”

Damian sighed, and he lifted his hand to brush a stray strand of hair from my face. I flinched, but he didn’t pull away, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he said slowly, almost to himself. “But strength won’t save you here. The sooner you accept that, the better.”

I pulled away, refusing to let him see how his words affected me.

“I’ll never accept it,” I said almost boldly, even as a part of me trembled with fear.

He watched me for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then he nodded like he had expected my answer.

“Very well. But know this, tigress—every action has consequences. And I won’t hesitate to enforce them.”

After those words, he walked away.

I watched him disappear, and I let out a thunderous scream, kicking the wall forcefully.