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CHAPTER THREE

Author: Vee Philip
last update publish date: 2026-02-19 14:46:58

Weeks went by, and Lance was happy he didn’t have to see Ragnar again. He honestly hoped he never would. He liked life without being involved with a mafia boss.

Things slowly went back to normal. Lance stayed busy with college and basketball. Everyone still saw him as the star player. He was still dating Ylva too. He did love her, but a part of him also knew staying with her meant staying safe from her scary father.

Everything was fine.

Until one day it wasn’t.

One afternoon, Lance came home earlier than usual. He thought he would walk in and see his little sister Tamera watching TV or maybe fighting with the babysitter like always.

But that’s not what he saw.

The moment he opened the door, his heart dropped.

The babysitter was lying on the floor, not moving. The whole apartment was a mess. Chairs were flipped, the table was broken, things were smashed everywhere.

And Tamera was gone.

“Tam?” he called out, panic already rising in his chest. “Can you hear me baby girl?"

No answer.

He rushed over to the babysitter and knelt beside her. For a second he thought the worst, but then he saw she was still breathing. Relief hit him, but only a little.

He gently shook her.

“Hey, wake up. Please wake up,” he said.

Her eyes slowly opened.

“What happened?” Lance asked fast. “Where’s Tamera, can you walk?”

She looked confused and scared.

“Men… they had guns… they took her,” she whispered.

Before Lance could ask anything else, she passed out again.

That was all he needed to hear.

Anger filled his whole body, anger he couldn't hold back.

“Loan sharks,” he muttered.

He already knew it had to be them.

Years ago, his dad had borrowed a huge amount of money to save his business. The business still failed, and his dad died not long after. But the debt stayed. It fell on Lance.

For five years, Lance worked nonstop trying to pay it off. Part-time jobs, side jobs, anything he could find. And still, he wasn’t even close to finishing, the amount was too much especially for an undergraduate who was still trying to figure out his life.

But he had paid them this month. He always paid.

So why take Tamera?

He made sure the babysitter was okay, laid her properly on the couch, then stormed out of the apartment.

He knew where he had to go.

The warehouse.

The place he knew they always would be after harassing people who owed them even a cent.

As he got closer, his anger started turning into fear. But he forced himself to keep walking.

When he reached the big metal doors, he took a deep breath and pushed them open.

That was the first stupid choice he made.

Inside were a bunch of men. Big, rough-looking men. Most of them had guns. All of them looked dangerous.

Every single one turned to stare at him with scarred faces or eyes.

Guns were pointed his way.

Lance quickly raised his hands.

“I’m not here to fight,” he said.

One big man walked up and pressed a gun against his chest.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“My name’s Lance,” he answered. “I need to talk to your boss.”

The man laughed and looked like he was about to pull the trigger.

But then someone else stopped him.

Another man stepped forward. He was shorter and covered in tattoos.

Lance recognized him. He was the one who always came around collecting money.

“Where is my sister?” Lance asked angrily.

The man crossed his arms. “Where’s my money?”

“I paid you this month, you had no right to take my sister she's a child”

The man laughed.

“And you think that’s enough?” he said. “You’ve owed us for years. You haven’t even paid half.”

“That wasn’t the deal,” Lance snapped.

The gun pressed harder into his chest.

The man stepped closer.

“Our rules are simple,” he said. “If you can’t pay, we take something valuable.”

He smirked.

“So we took your sister.”

Lance froze.

“What?”

“A young heart sells for a lot, especially that of a girl,” the man said calmly.

Lance grabbed him by the shirt.

“You sick bastard, if you touch her I'll kill you!”

The man didn’t even look scared.

“You have three days,” he said. “Bring the money, or she gets sold. Or killed. Your choice.”

Lance slowly let go.

Three days, that was too little time to do anything, was that man crazy?

“You know I don’t have that kind of money,” Lance said quietly.

“Not my problem,” the man replied. “Find it. Steal it. We don’t care. Just bring it.”

Lance left the warehouse feeling numb.

His mind was full of Tamera. Her smile. Her laugh. The way she always followed him around and held his hand when she wanted to show him one of her questionable work of arts.

When he got home, the babysitter was still asleep on the couch, she was probably passed out from whatever happened and would wake up after sometime, he didn't bother her.

Lance went to his room and sat on the bed.

He felt empty.

He thought about who he could ask for help, but every option felt wrong. He didn’t want to drag anyone else into this mess.

He picked up his phone and stared at Ylva’s name.

For a moment, he wanted to call her.

But he didn’t.

He knew she would help him. She would jump in without thinking.

And that was exactly why he couldn’t tell her.

“I’ll save you, Tam,” he whispered.

“No matter what.”

He closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ylva… but after this, I can’t be with you anymore.”

He needed to escape this men, this life, even if he meant leaving the only girl he loves, which hurt him so much to think about.

All he had to do was get a million dollars in three days.

And he had absolutely no idea how.

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  • COLLATERAL DESIRE    CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY ONE

    The estate was mostly quiet by the time Lance came back.Rain had started sometime after midnight, water sliding down the massive windows in thin streams while the guards outside rotated shifts under the dim courtyard lights. Most of the house had gone still hours ago.Ragnar was still awake.Of course he was.He sat in his office with untouched documents spread across the desk, though his attention hadn’t truly been on work for the last hour. His mind kept circling back to Lance leaving with Marcus earlier that evening.The club.The drinking.Marcus’s idea of relaxation.Ragnar already hated it.A knock came at the office door before it slowly opened.One of the guards stepped in carefully.“Sir… Lance is back.”Ragnar looked up immediately.Something in the guard’s expression made his eyes narrow.“What happened.”“He’s drunk.”A pause.Then the guard added carefully, “Very drunk.”Ragnar exhaled once through his nose before standing.That alone was irritating enough. Lance rarely

  • COLLATERAL DESIRE    CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY

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  • COLLATERAL DESIRE    CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY NINE

    Ragnar’s room was quiet, but unlike the rest of the estate, this silence wasn’t tense.It was suffocating.The kind that pressed against his ribs the longer he sat in it.Rain tapped softly against the windows overlooking the grounds, the dim light from outside spilling faintly across the dark wood of the room. Papers sat abandoned across his desk, untouched for over an hour now. His drink had gone cold beside them.None of it mattered.Because his mind kept circling back to the same person.Lance.Or whatever was left of him.Ragnar leaned back slowly in his chair, fingers pressing against his temple as exhaustion settled deeper into his bones. He rarely allowed himself moments like this. Sitting still meant thinking too much, and thinking too much lately always ended badly.Especially when it came to Lance.He could still see him clearly from earlier.The blood on the corridor floor.The guard choking on his own throat.That grin on Lance’s face after doing it.Oops.Like it was fun

  • COLLATERAL DESIRE    CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY EIGHT

    The door clicked shut behind Jungwoo. For a few seconds, he didn’t move. One hand remained on the handle, fingers curled there loosely, as if he could still feel the heat of the room through the wood. The corridor was quiet, long and dimly lit, the kind of silence that usually calmed people. It did nothing for him. His breathing was slower than it should have been. Too measured. Too controlled for what was happening underneath. Then something in his face shifted. The polished amusement he wore so easily cracked at the edges, revealing something sharper beneath it. His eyes darkened, pupils blown wide as the last few minutes replayed themselves with cruel clarity. Lance’s hand around his throat. The sudden force of being driven into the floor. The look in his eyes when he did it. Not hesitation. Not confusion. Something feral. Something that had learned violence so deeply it now lived in his bones. Jungwoo bit down hard on his lower lip. Hard enough to

  • COLLATERAL DESIRE    CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY SEVEN

    Lance’s room was dark except for the narrow strip of moonlight slipping through the curtains.He hadn’t bothered turning the lights on.Darkness made more sense lately.It matched the inside of his head better than anything bright ever could.He sat on the floor beside the bed, knees drawn close, one arm wrapped across his stomach while the other hand dug into the side of his skull hard enough to leave crescent marks. His breathing came unevenly, not frantic, not weak—just strained, like every breath had to fight its way through something lodged in his chest.The voices were back.Not voices in the ordinary sense.Not ghosts.Not madness the way stories described it.They were memories sharpened into sound.Marcus barking orders in that cold amused tone.Men screaming from pain, from fear, from the realization no one was coming to help them.The crack of bone.The wet noise steel made when it entered flesh.His own laughter, louder than the rest.That one always sickened him most.Bec

  • COLLATERAL DESIRE    CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY SIX

    The club was built to look expensive.Dark marble floors, low gold lighting, music heavy enough to shake the walls, people dressed like they had never known fear. On the surface it was luxury.Underneath it, everyone important knew what it really was.A distribution point.Money upstairs.Drugs downstairs.Bodies somewhere in between.Ragnar arrived first with two men behind him, expression unreadable as always. He hated places like this—too loud, too crowded, too many angles to watch at once. But Marcus had given direct orders.Go with Lance. Collect the shipment. No mistakes.That alone had irritated him.Because Marcus knew exactly what he was doing by forcing them together.Ragnar stepped through the VIP corridor and immediately saw him.Lance stood near the bar like he owned the room.Black shirt half-open at the throat, sleeves rolled to reveal tattooed forearms, a chain catching the dim light. He looked older than his years now. Harder. Sharper. The softness that used to live i

  • COLLATERAL DESIRE    CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY ONE

    FIVE YEARS LATERRagnar was filling out some papers, over the years he had buried himself in work, building his name and making himself more powerful in the underground world. Not once had his mind truly left Lance. He often wondered how he was doing, if he was still alive, if he had changed… or if

  • COLLATERAL DESIRE    CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN

    Ragnar was in his office, but his mind had been nowhere near work for hours.Files were open across the desk, numbers waiting for decisions, messages needing replies, meetings already delayed. None of it held his attention.Every thought circled back to Lance.To the way he had walked out.To the s

  • COLLATERAL DESIRE    CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN

    By the next few weeks, a lot of people begged for Lance to reconsider his decision, but his mind was already made up. Every day someone new tried to talk sense into him. Some used logic, some used fear, some used pity.They told him about the dangers of working with Marcus.They told him boys disap

  • COLLATERAL DESIRE    CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN

    Ragnar’s room had gone quiet in a way that didn’t feel peaceful anymore.Not calm. Not restful.Just empty, like everything inside it had been arranged too carefully for anything real to slip through, not even thoughts.He stood near the window for a long time without moving, staring out at the est

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