Chapter 6

Richard glared at Ronald with utter disappointment before shifting his gaze back to Ross and spoke. His voice shook with fury and fear. “You can’t do this. He’s my son.”

“Yes,” Ross agreed. “And he’s also a debtor…like you. It's true what they say -the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He crouched in front of Ronald. “Do you know what the agreement is for unpaid gambling debt?”

Ronald’s breathing hitched.

“Organ harvesting,” Ross continued casually. “Kidneys fetch a good price. Liver too. Depending on the condition.”

“Stop it!” Richard shouted. 

Ross stood again, unfazed. “Your son begged us to call you. Said you’d cover everything.”

Ronald coughed weakly. “Dad…I'm hurting.”

Richard’s heart shattered. He swallowed hard. “Even if you harvested his organs… it wouldn’t fully cover the debt.”

Ross’s eyes flickered with interest. “So you do understand the math.”

“Yes,” Richard said hoarsely. “Which is why—”

“Which is why,” Ross cut in, “both father and son owe me.”

Silence fell.

“If you don’t pay,” Ross continued softly, “Ronald dies. And shortly after, so do you.”

Richard’s knees nearly buckled.

He dropped beside his son. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

Ross watched the scene with clinical detachment. “Anything?”

“Yes,” Richard said desperately. “Name it.”

Ross considered this for a moment. Then he said, “You have a daughter.”

Richard froze. “No,” he whispered, knowing fully well what Ross was driving at.

“Rebecca Jefferson is your daughter, right? She is a very interesting young woman. I heard she is doing very well in the modelling industry,” Ross said calmly. “Young. Healthy. Valuable. A lot of my clients will find her very intriguing.”

Richard shook his head violently. “Absolutely not.”

Ross’s expression darkened. “You want me to carve your son open instead?”

Richard clutched Ronald’s shoulder. “She’s innocent.”

Ross’s voice hardened. “So was I… once.” He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Relax. I’m not a monster. Not entirely.”

He leaned closer. “Rebecca would be… collateral. Far more useful alive than dead.”

Richard’s face twisted in agony. “I can’t lose both of my children,” he choked.

Ross straightened. “Then find another way. I’m running out of options here, Richard.”

“Give me time… I’ll find a way to get your money or collateral back,” Richard asked weakly.

Ross sighed and  glanced at his watch. “Six hours… That's how much time I can spare you. I’m only doing this because you and I go a long way back, but I won’t spare your entire Jefferson family if you disappoint me again.”

“Six hours…” Richard’s head snapped up. “That’s impossible. I can’t—”

Ross’s eyes were cold. “Then choose which child you’re burying.”

He nodded to the guards. Instantly, they dragged Ronald away, his cries echoing through the warehouse.

Richard remained on the floor long after they were gone—his world collapsing, one terrible realization settling in his mind.

Six hours.

And only one remaining option.

Richard Jefferson did not remember the drive home.

The city lights blurred past his windshield like streaks of guilt and fear, his hands clenched so tightly around the steering wheel that his knuckles had gone white. Ross’s words replayed endlessly in his head—cold, calm, final. Six hours.

By the time he pulled into the driveway of the Jefferson residence, the sky was already paling at the edges, dawn threatening to break. The mansion loomed before him—grand, expensive, hollow. A house built on appearances and sustained by lies.

Inside, the lights were still on.

Clara was waiting.

She stood at the foot of the staircase in a silk robe, her perfectly styled hair untouched, eyes sharp and alert. She took one look at Richard’s face and stiffened.

“What happened?” she asked.

Richard didn’t answer immediately. He closed the door behind him with a soft click.

“We’re out of time,” he said hoarsely.

Clara’s breath caught. “What do you mean?”

Rebecca appeared then, drawn by the tension in the air.

“Dad?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

Richard looked at his daughter and felt something twist painfully in his chest.

He told them everything.

Ross. The warehouse. The debt and about. Ronald.

Rebecca’s face drained of color.

“They can’t do that,” she said. “They can’t just take Ron—harvest his organs like he’s nothing!”

“They can,” Richard said quietly. “And they will.”

Clara pressed a hand to her mouth. “And what does he want?”

Richard hesitated.

Rebecca saw it instantly. “No,” she said sharply. “No. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Rebecca—”

“No!” she shouted. “I’m not some bargaining chip you can hand over to criminals!”

Clara rounded on Richard. “You promised me you had this under control.”

“I did,” he snapped. “Until I didn’t. I told you to make sure that boy doesn't cause any trouble but look at what your son has done”

Rebecca’s voice broke. “You’d really give me to them? Like property?”

Richard couldn’t answer.

The silence was damning.

Rebecca backed away, tears streaming down her face. “You’re monsters,” she whispered.

Clara exhaled slowly, then straightened.

“There may be another way,” she said suddenly.

Both Richard and Rebecca looked at her.

Clara’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Someone else could be used.”

Rebecca frowned. “Who?”

Clara shook her head. “Not yet.”

Richard stared at his wife. “What are you talking about?”

Clara’s lips curved into a thin smile. “Someone far more… appropriate.”

And Richard knew—deep down—that whatever Clara was planning would damn them all.