Prologue

**ANGELA'S POV**

"Damn, that practice was brutal. How are you still so chipper? My legs feel like fucking jelly,"

Aria whined from the driver's seat, her hands gripping the wheel as if it might slip away at any second.

I chuckled softly, leaning back against the worn leather of her little red Beetle.

It never failed to amuse me how she turned into an absolute toddler the moment hunger hit–which was pretty much every time we finished dance practice.

That girl was certainly a toddler in twenty year old woman's body.

"It wasn't that bad," I said, though my own muscles were screaming in protest.

"The competition is only a couple of weeks away. We have to push harder than usual if we want any shot at winning,"

"Ugh... don't remind me," Aria groaned dramatically.

"You just got extra hyped because you finally got to dance with that hottie, Fred," she added, shooting me a knowing sideways glance.

"What? No, that's not true!" I shot back, but my cheeks were already burning crimson.

The words came out too fast, too defensive, and Aria's face lit up with that massive Cheshire-cat grin she always wore when she caught me.

"Aha... right. I totally believe you. So when are you gonna ask him out?"

"Don't even start," I muttered, turning to stare out the window.

I loved my best friend, but her nosiness knew no bounds. She should have become a detective instead of chasing choreography dreams with me at art school.

We'd clicked instantly in our first semester–same classes and same fierce ambition to become professional choreographers.

High school had left me isolated, with no real friends to speak of. Meeting Aria felt like finally drawing the lucky card I'd been wishing for my whole life.

"Oh, come on. You've had a crush on him forever," she pressed, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

"It doesn't matter," I sighed. "You know I won't ask him out. He's way out of my league..,"

My voice trailed off as my house came into view.

My stomach twisted.

"Huh? Did your dad get a new car?" Aria asked, slowing down.

"Not that I know of,"

A sleek black SUV with tinted windows sat ominously in our driveway. My heart plummeted.

Please, not more trouble. Not tonight.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" Aria asked, her voice thick with concern as she pulled up beside the intimidating vehicle. She knew all about my father's "bad habits,"

The mere sight of that SUV screamed danger.

"No, don't worry about it," I forced a weak smile. "I'm sure it's just some guest I didn't know about,"

Her expression made it clear she wasn't buying a word of it, but she didn't push.

"Alright. Call me if anything happens, okay?"

"It'll be fine, Aria. See you tomorrow,"

I stepped out of the car and drew in a deep, steadying breath, the cool evening air doing little to calm the unease crawling up my spine.

My footsteps felt heavier than usual as I approached the front door. It was already open.

A chill ran down my back.

I slipped inside the familiar two-story house with its plain walls and creaky wooden floors. I knew every loose board, every groan of the old planks.

I moved carefully down the narrow hallway, heart hammering.

"Time's up,"

The coarse male voice from the living room froze me in place.

"Boss has been patient with you, but he wants his money back," another voice added, low and menacing.

I pressed a hand over my mouth, trying desperately not to make a sound.

Slowly, I peeked around the corner.

Three bulky men dressed in black surrounded my father. He was on his knees, beaten and trembling. The glass coffee table lay shattered across the floor, blood speckling the shards like gruesome confetti. One of the men had him by the collar.

"N-no! I swear I'll get the money! I just need more tim…" Dad's plea was cut short by a brutal punch to his jaw. The force nearly knocked him over.

He cradled his face, blood trickling from his split lip.

"I said your time is up!" the gangster roared, his smoke-roughened voice echoing through the room. He bared yellowed teeth in pure rage.

"We gave you more than enough chances. Now you're going to pay with your life,"

He pulled a gun from behind his jacket and pressed it against my father's forehead. His finger hovered over the trigger.

"No!" The word tore from my throat before I could stop it.

Every head snapped toward me.

My breath caught, lungs seizing in terror. In one stupid moment, I'd given away my hiding spot.

"I thought no one else was here," one of the men growled, glancing back at my father. Dad's face twisted in horror and shock. He clearly hadn't expected me home so soon.

"D-don't hurt her. Please. She has nothing to do with this," he begged, his voice cracking with desperation.

"Boss won't like witnesses," the armed man said coldly, turning the gun toward me.

I stumbled backward, fear gripping my chest like a vice.

"Pity to kill such a pretty thing," the second man commented with a sick smirk.

"You don't have to!" I swallowed hard, throat tight. "I... I can pay off the debt,"

The man with the gun threw his head back and laughed, a wheezing, ugly sound.

"Really? And how the hell do you plan to pay off a hundred grand, sweetheart?"

One hundred thousand dollars!!!!

The number made my head spin.

Dad... what the hell have you done?

"P-please, I'll find the money…," Dad tried again, only to be shoved violently from behind.

"Shut the fuck up, old man,"

"I'm sorry, doll. His time is up... and so is yours," The gun swung back to me. "Nothing personal. You're just in the wrong place at the wrong time,"

Time seemed to slow.

I saw the barrel aimed at my face, the raw terror in my father's eyes, and my entire life flashing before me in a dizzying rush.

My lungs burned as I sucked in air, lips parted, but no words came.

A surge of adrenaline hit me like a battering ram, but I wasn't some action hero. I couldn't move, couldn't fight. Instead, the words tumbled out on pure instinct.

"I'll work for you," I blurt out, my own brain yet to catch up with the meaning of my words.

The gunman paused, his finger inches from the trigger. Intrigued, he studied my shaking form.

"Work for us?" He chuckled darkly. "Aside from a good fuck, there's nothing you can offer, girl. Though I wouldn't say no to that,"

He took a step closer and I backed away, eyes wide with horror. I hadn't even considered the vile things they might do—things worse than death.

“Please, don't…”

"Wait," The third man, who had been silently watching from the armchair, finally spoke. His legs were crossed casually, a bored expression on his face, yet somehow he radiated more danger than the one holding the gun. His icy eyes pinned me in place, seeing straight through my fear.

"A girl recently quit. Boss is looking for a replacement," His voice was calm, authoritative. He commanded the entire room without raising a finger or shifting an inch. "She'll do for the job,"