Chapter 2 Indebtedness

Sarah’s POV

"Urgh." I groaned as I rested my forehead against the small, scratched wooden table in the cheap motel room, clutching a bottle of alcohol in my trembling hand. 

It was the only thing keeping the roaring tempest of panic inside me from driving me insane.

For the twentieth time, my shaking fingers dialed Reid’s number. I brought the phone to my ear, holding my breath, even though I already knew the answer.

Busy.

"Pick up... please, Reid," I whispered into the quiet room, my voice cracking and raspy from hours of crying. "Just tell me it’s a sick joke... tell me you didn't leave me like this."

But deep down, I knew it wasn't a joke. 

The empty apartment and the zeros in our joint pack account were real, brutal facts. He had drained everything and abandoned me to the wolves.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my hand. 

For a heartbeat, my soul soared. I didn't even look at the caller ID before slamming the phone to my ear. "Reid?!"

"Miss Simon?" a voice answered, cold, bureaucratic, and distinctly not Reid. "This is Mr. Donald from the collections department at National Trust Pack Bank."

I stiffened, my throat instantly going dry, and squeezed my eyes shut as I pressed my aching forehead harder against my knees. 

"Mr. Donald... I... I'm working on the payment. I just need a little more time—"

"You've had two years of 'more time,' Miss Simon," he snapped coldly, cutting me off. "The grace period is officially over. 

“If the money isn't in our clearing account by the end of the month, we are moving forward with the foreclosure and seizure of the Simon Estate and lands. Consider this your final verbal warning."

The line went dead with a sharp click. A quiet, helpless whimper escaped my lips as I almost slid off the chair in complete despair.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A loud, abrupt knock on the motel door made me leap out of my skin, my heart jumping straight into my throat. 

My breath hitched in short, panicked gasps. 

Had the rogue loan sharks tracked my scent here already?

"Who is it?" I called out, my voice trembling violently. "I... I can call the cops if you don't leave!"

"I don't think you want to call the cops, Sarah," a deep, smooth voice replied from the other side of the door. 

It carried a heavy, terrifying weight of natural Alpha command that instantly silenced my panic.

Cautiously, I crept toward the door and pulled it open just an inch.

Standing on the threshold was a tall, strikingly handsome man in an impeccably tailored black suit. 

He stepped into the room uninvited, his sharp, dark eyes scanning the dingy surroundings before landing on me.

"What are you doing here?" I gasped as I recognized him immediately. "Mr. Hayes?"

Without answering, he reached into his inner suit jacket, pulled out a thick document, and laid it neatly on the table beside my bottle.

"I heard about your situation, Sarah," he said calmly. "You need five hundred thousand dollars to clear your father's pack debt and save your family estate. 

“I am offering to pay off every cent of that debt right now."

My brows furrowed in complete disbelief. "Why would you do that? What's the catch?"

"A trade," Johnson said, crossing his arms over his chest. "For five hundred thousand dollars, I need a wife for a year. 

“A contract marriage. I need someone who understands this is purely business and doesn't expect real mate bonds or emotional obligations. 

“You need money, and I need a marriage to secure my Alpha title and legacy. It's a perfect deal."

I stared at him, my jaw practically dropping. 

"A contract marriage? For a year?! You want me to play the role of your devoted mate for money?"

The sheer audacity of his proposal, delivered so casually right after Reid had betrayed me for money, set off a spark of fiery rage in my chest.

"Is this a game to you wealthy Alphas?!" I yelled, grabbing the contract off the table, crumpling it into a tight ball, and hurling it straight at his chest. "Take your money and get out! I would rather lose the estate than sell myself to an arrogant, cold-hearted bastard like you! You can rot in hell!"

Johnson didn't flinch as the paper hit him. He simply looked down at the crumpled contract at his feet, then backed up at me with an icy, unbothered stare.

"A foolish mistake," he said softly, his voice full of chilling certainty. "The bank won't be as polite as I am, Sarah. Neither will the rogue loan sharks."

"I don't care!" I screamed, pointing aggressively at the open door. "Get out of my room! Get out!"

Suddenly, before Johnson could step toward the exit, the door was violently kicked open!

The thin wooden frame splintered as three massive, muscular enforcers, the very same loan sharks who had cornered me earlier, burst into the small room.

"Well, well, well," the leader sneered, his amber eyes glowing dangerously as he stepped inside with a terrifying grin. "Did you really think you could hide your scent from us in a cheap rogue motel, Sarah?"

I froze, terror locking my joints. "I... I... No, I didn't..."

"Where's the money?" the leader bellowed, taking a menacing step toward me.

In my utter amazement, Johnson didn't move to run or protect me. 

Instead, he simply stepped back into a corner, slipping his hands

nonchalantly into his pant pockets, watching the scene unfold like he was enjoying a damn show.