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"Marry me… or your family pays."
Those were the last words I expected to hear today. I stood in my father’s cramped office, heart hammering, as my gaze met the tall, imposing man in front of me. Dressed in a black suit, his dark eyes seemed to pierce straight through me. His hair was perfectly combed, and his presence was strong, intimidating enough to make me freeze in place. Two men flanked him, silent and dangerous. “Rachel, baby, I can explain,” my father said, stepping toward me, panic in his voice. “What…?” I muttered, confusion and disbelief twisting in my chest. “Your father owes me money; a lot of it,” the man said smoothly. “And I don’t joke about my money.” Before I could react, he pulled a gun from his pocket. I flinched, my breath catching. My father froze, too. “So here’s the deal,” he continued, taking a slow step forward. “You marry me. Your father lives. Refuse… and I won’t be responsible for what happens to him.” I gaped, anger and fear flashing through me. My hand darted for my phone. “I’m calling the police! You can’t threaten my family, you lunatic!” The man’s face darkened. He moved closer, and I stumbled backwards until my back hit the wall. One of his men pressed a gun to my father’s temple. My blood ran cold. “I’m Damien Montrel,” he said, his voice low, smooth, and deadly. “And this is not a request.” My eyes widened. Damien? The name I had only ever heard in whispered warnings, the man whose name alone made even hardened criminals shiver… he was here in my father’s office. My phone slipped from my trembling hands. I glanced at my father. His face was drained of colour, shame and fear immediately replacing the faint confidence he usually carried. He had dragged me into this. “Dad… what did you do?!” My voice shook. Damien’s frown deepened. “You don’t listen, do you? You will address me. I’m being generous. Usually, I would take your father’s organs, but I’m offering a bargain.” I frowned, scared but angry. “I am not an object to be bought!” “Oh, but you are,” Damien spat. “The moment your father decided to borrow millions from me… for years… this is the consequence.” I sank to the floor, tears burning in my eyes. Confusion, fear, and anger swirled inside me. I had just come back from a late night of studying with my friends… and now this. Damien’s gaze didn’t waver. “You have until tomorrow morning to give me your answer,” he said, his voice calm but dangerous. “Think carefully. If you tell anyone I was here… your father, your brother, everyone you love… they will all pay.” I froze. My brother… he was in another city, always working. If he knew… if he came…The thought sent a fresh wave of panic through my chest. He stepped back, giving me space but never breaking eye contact. “Don’t waste my generosity by refusing outright,” he warned. “Tomorrow, you make your choice. And remember… I can find out everything. Even your thoughts are not safe.” With that, Damien turned and walked out, his two men following silently. The door clicked shut. The office felt suddenly suffocating. My father stumbled toward me, falling to his knees. His hands trembled as they gripped my arms. “Tomorrow morning…” I whispered. “How am I supposed to choose?” “Rachel, I-I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t know he’d drag you into this.” I looked at him, my chest aching too much from anger. “Why were you borrowing money from someone like him?” He looked away, shame clouding his face. “That doesn’t matter now. Rachel listened to me, call Marcus. Tell him to book you a flight out of the country.” “Dad, it’s Damien!” I cried, frustrated, tears spilling down my cheeks. “He’ll find me! There’s nowhere I can run!” “I can offer him myself,” my father said weakly, his voice breaking. “I’ll give him what he wants; my organs, my life, just not you. Please, Rachel, don’t let him have you.” My heart twisted painfully. “But you’ll die. I can’t lose you,” I whispered. He smiled faintly, heartbreak written all over his face. “Yes… But you still have Marcus.” A shaky laugh escaped me. “Marcus barely picks up my calls, Dad,” I tried to joke, but my voice cracked. “I just… I just want you alive.” He placed a trembling hand on my cheek. “You’re the only thing I ever did right, Rachel.” The words broke me. I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder, trembling as the weight of everything crashed down. Because tomorrow morning, I had to choose between my father’s life and my own freedom. —— The first rays of sunlight barely touched the city when I heard a sharp knock on the door. My heart lurched. I knew that sound. I had barely slept, haunted by the nightmare of last night. Damien Montrel was back. And so early. Before I could react, the door burst open. The dark, imposing figure filled the doorway, his suit pristine, eyes cold and sharp. Two men followed silently behind him; their presence alone made the air feel heavy and dangerous. “Time’s up,” Damien said, his voice smooth, low, and deadly. “What’s your choice?” I stood immediately, tense, my pulse racing as I met his gaze. His face was hard, serious, and dangerous but I sensed something else too: anticipation. The faint tightening of his jaw told me he was waiting for my answer, and for a brief second, it almost looked like he cared. Before I could speak, my father stormed into the living room, his voice sharp and trembling. “She’s not marrying you,” he said firmly, standing between us despite the fear in his shaking hands. Damien’s frown deepened. “I didn’t hear those words from her.” “You don’t need to,” my father snapped. “As you can see, she’s standing still. Her silence means no.” Damien’s jaw tightened. His gaze darkened, disappointment flickering across his features before he turned cold again. Without a word, he gestured to his men. “Take him, then.” I froze. The men stepped forward, their boots thudding heavily against the floor. My father stumbled back, still glaring at Damien with defiance burning in his eyes. “Rachel…” he called, voice breaking. “Call your brother and move in with him.” My chest constricted. The men grabbed him roughly, dragging him toward the door. Damien stood still, watching the scene unfold with calm precision, like a judge passing sentence. “Dad!” I screamed, rushing forward, but one of Damien’s men raised his gun instantly, stopping me mid-step. “Stay back,” Damien said quietly, his tone so steady it chilled me. My father’s knees buckled as they pulled him. He tried to fight, but they were stronger and crueller. His face turned pale, sweat glistening on his forehead. Tears blurred my vision as I watched him being dragged away, he looked helpless, humiliated, and terrified. I could feel Damien’s gaze on me, observing, analysing my reaction. His arms were folded calmly, his expression unreadable. He was studying me; measuring how far he could push before I broke. I tried to stay still. Dad was right, it wasn’t fair for me to be involved. But I couldn’t bear it anymore. Every cry, every thud of my father’s shoes against the floor, tore through my chest like glass. “Stop!” I cried. Tears streamed down my face as I stumbled forward. “I… I’ll do it,” I whispered, voice cracking. “I’ll marry you.” For a second, silence filled the room. Even the men paused. Damien’s eyes flicked up, scanning me with a cold, calculating stare. For just a heartbeat, I thought I saw something—approval? Satisfaction?—before his expression hardened again. “Wise choice,” he said, stepping aside. The men released my father, and he dropped to the floor with a groan. “Rachel… no,” he rasped, reaching for me, pain etched across his face. I shook my head, tears spilling freely. “I have to,” I whispered. “I have to keep you alive.” Damien turned to his men, his voice calm again. “Get everything ready. She’s mine now.” My father’s voice broke behind me, but I couldn’t look at him. The world blurred as Damien walked past, his cologne sharp and suffocating, his presence swallowing every ounce of light left in the room. At that moment, I knew my life was no longer my own.Rachel POV Warmth. Soft sheets. A faint, familiar cologne. My mind drifted in a hazy fog, caught between sleep and memory. My body felt heavy, limbs foreign. I breathed in shakily, my eyes fluttering open. Dim light from a bedside lamp painted soft shadows on the walls. This wasn’t my room. My chest tightened. Where was I? Then, it all slammed back into me. The alley. Rough hands grabbing me. The necklace being ripped Hot blood on my face A gunshot Damien’s icy voice The man falling My own scream I jerked upright with a sharp gasp. A shadow moved in the corner. My breath hitched. Panic exploded behind my ribs. Damien. He sat in a chair near the bed, his coat draped over the back, shirtsleeves rolled up. He looked exhausted, his expression unreadable, but the anger wasn't for me. Just the sight of him made my hands shake. I tried to sit up ta
Rachel POVI didn’t know how long I had been running.Hours, maybe.My feet throbbed. My lungs burned. The sun had already slipped from afternoon gold into the soft grey of evening by the time I burst out of the forest and stumbled onto a cracked highway road.When I looked up, I saw it:Lights.Cars.People.A city.My knees almost buckled.I hugged myself and forced my tired body forward. My clothes were dirty from climbing the wall, my hair tangled, and my palms still stung from where the vines had cut me.But I was free.For the first time in weeks, I could choose where I went.I wiped my cheeks and stepped into the noise of the street. Neon signs buzzed above me. Cars honked. Strangers brushed past without a second glance.It felt unreal.Almost like a dream.I just need a phone, I told myself.I just need to call Dad. Or Marcus. Anyone. Then I can leave this country and disappear.I kept walking, head lowered, trying to blend into the crowd.Everything felt so unfamiliar, so lou
Rachel POVI didn’t sleepHow could I?Locked in this room, guards posted outside my door, my phone taken… every choice had been ripped from my hands.By sunrise, I sat curled beside the window, staring at the horizon as tears slid silently down my cheeks. I kept wiping them away, as if hiding them would lessen the ache.I had truly sold myself to the Devil.And now I was trapped.A soft knock broke through my thoughts.“…Mama?”I turned.Leo peeked from the doorway, dressed in his blue pyjamas, a shy smile on his face. He slipped inside, his tiny hands twisting nervously.His eyes lifted to mine, wide and worried.“Did Papa make you sad?”The question cut straight through me. I walked toward him and knelt, pulling him into my arms.“No, sweetheart,” I whispered, a lie that my tears betrayed.He hugged me tighter, as if afraid letting go would make me disappear.After a moment, he tugged on my sleeve.“Do you want to go to the garden with me? Just me and you. Please?”I froze.Damien’
Rachel POV“Family dinner?” I repeated, staring at Mr Vance from my doorway.He nodded. “Yes, Mrs Montrel. Young Master Leo specially requested it. He wants you there.”I blinked. Leo never asked for something like this. We usually ate quietly in his room, just the two of us.“Will… Damien be there too?” I asked carefully.Mr Vance sighed. “Leo hopes so. But you know how the Boss is. He’s always busy.”I let out a quiet breath of relief. “Alright. I’ll be down soon.”---The dining hall stunned me the moment I walked in.Candles glowed softly across a long, beautifully prepared table. Warm food, spices, and a hint of fresh bread filled the air.Leo saw me first.“Mama! Sit here!” he laughed, patting the chair beside him.I smiled and sat. “You set all this up?”Leo puffed his chest proudly. “Yes! I did everything!”Mr Vance gave a subtle eye roll. Definitely not true.Leo leaned toward me, whispering loudly, “We just need Papa now… I hope he comes.”I gave him a small smile, secretly
Rachel POV I tore through the large drawer, pushing aside endless layers of clothes before rushing across the room. My college books and worn textbooks sat stacked on the desk, waiting. I shoved them into my tote, a nervous excitement buzzing under my skin. My phone sat on the cosy, oversized bed, my father’s voice crackling through the speaker. “I hope he’s treating you well,” Dad said, his tone thick with worry. “I guess,” I murmured, grabbing my skirt and tugging it on. “He hasn’t done anything. In fact, I haven’t even seen him these past few days. He’s rarely around. Unlike his son.” “Son?” came my father’s confused reply. I let out a small, nervous laugh. “Apparently, the mafia king has a little boy. He calls me ‘Mama.’ It’s… strange.” The line went silent for a moment as I brushed my hair and sat at the vanity. My reflection looked composed—a stark lie my frantic pulse betrayed. “I-I’m sorry, Rachel,” Dad said suddenly, his voice cracking. “This is all my fault.”
The room fell quiet after Mr Vance’s words. “Mrs Montrel, meet Master Leo.” For a moment, neither of us moved. Leo stared at me, small and still, his wide hazel eyes full of curiosity. Mr Vance cleared his throat gently. “We’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” he said, gesturing for the younger man to follow. As they reached the doorway, Mr Vance leaned closer and murmured, “He needs a mother, Mrs Montrel. Not another caretaker.” Then he left, closing the door softly behind him. The silence that followed was awkward and delicate. Leo fidgeted with a toy car, pretending not to look at me. I stood frozen, shocked that Damien Montrel, the feared mafia boss, had a son no one had ever heard about. I forced myself to move. Crouching down, I tried not to seem too forward. “Hey there,” I said gently. “You’ve got quite the collection of toys.” He didn’t answer. His little lips pressed together in a pout. After a pause, he asked, almost accusingly, “Are you another nanny?







