Bound by debt

"You need to stop staring at the bottom of that glass like it owes you money." Maya said, snatching the tumbler from my hand.

I gave her a half-hearted glare, slumping against the velvet-lined couch. "It kinda does," I muttered. "Or at least it owes my dad's debt collectors and explanation."

She rolled her eyes and set the glass down on the low table in front of us, Velvet Noir pulsed around us with bass-heavu music and hazy purple lights, casting everything in a seductive dream-like hue. The club was too loud, too rich and too far from the reality of my life--- but tonight, I needed to escape.

Maya sat down beside me and lucked a loose curl behind my ear. "Lena, I know it feels like everything is crashing down, but you can't drown yourself in tequila. "Not when your father's bakery is still holding on."

My throat tightened. "Barely holding on his generous. It is dying, Maya. Dying and dragging me with it.

I tried to laugh, but it cracked before it reached my lips. " You know what's pathetic? I've been working since I was seventeen, running ovens, cleaning floors, taking inventory--- doing everything to keep that place alive, and now, just because my dad took a loan that he couldn't repay, I'm one foreclosure notice away from loosing everything".

Her hand tightened around mine, "Then fight for it. Go to the damn bank, plead,beg,cry-- hell, throw yourself at the manager, make them feel something, ask for an extension."

I scoffed, "Yeah, and get laughed out of the building by some corporate staff in suit who will remind me that I'm not on the VIP list if the American Dream."

"Well, you're not on the quitters list either," she said, her voice firm. "That bakery is your father's legacy, it's your legacy. You can't give up.

I looked down at my lap, swallowing the burn in my throat. Maya had always been my anchor --- fiery, bold, always ready to light a match in a room full of gasoline. And I? I was the girl with trembling fingers holding the match.

She stood and smoothed the hem of her red dress. " I'm going to get us another round. Stay here and try not to spiral."

I nodded weakly as she disappeared into the crowd. The music throbbed around me, each beat matching the heavy thump of my heart. I tilted my head back, letting the ceiling light blue into one glowing smear.

That's when I felt it.

A shift in the air.

I turned my head slightly, and he was there.

Tall, impossibly tall. Clad in a tailored black suit that hugged broad shoulders and a lean, powerful frame. His dark hair was slightly tousled, like he'd just run a hand through it. A sharp jawline, high cheekbones and lips that looked carved rather than born. But it was his eyes that stopped me.

Cold piercing. A steel grey storm that locked onto me with a quiet intensity.

"You looked like you just lost a million dollars," he said, his voice smooth, gravelly murmured.

I blinked, "maybe I did."

He smiled---just barely. "Then I hope it wasn't your last, you are too beautiful to look that defeated.

My heart stuttered, my lips parted. And I hated how fast the flattery curled under my skin like hear.

"Elena," I said quietly, unsure why I offered my name.

"Liam," he replied, his voice like silk laced with danger.

Liam

It suited him--- sharp, commanding and wrapped in mystery.

"So what's a beautiful woman doing all alone in a place like this?" He asks, sliding closer.

"You don't seem like someone who belongs in a place like this," he added, his gaze sweeping over me --- not sleezy, but purposeful, like he was trying to read me like a story only he could understand.

"I could say the same about you," I said, suddenly aware of the space between us shrinking. "Or are you one of those men those lurks around nightclubs feeding Dad girls compliment?"

He laughed, low and dark. "Only when they are too stunning to ignore."

I should have walked away. I should have waited for Maya. But there was something about him--- dangerous and magnetic. A part of me was already slipping, lost in the haze of liquor and loneliness.

He leans in close enough that I could smell the faint scent of leather, his finger brushing the side of my arm. "You ever just... want to forget everything?"

I stared at him, a lump forming in my throat. "Everyday."

"Then come with me," he said softly, "just for a while, upstairs, somewhere quiet."

My heart pounded against my ribs.

He was a stranger. A dangerous attractive stranger. But in that moment, with the alcohol buzzing in my veins and my soul aching fo an escape, he didn't feel like danger.

He felt like numbness. And that sounded better than pain.

I nodded.

He took my hands without another word, and I let him lead me through the writhing crowd and toward a stairwell tucked behind velvet curtains. My heels clicked against marble steps, the music dulling as we ascended.

At the top, the hallway stretched quiet and dim, lined with sleek doors and golden sconces. Lian stopped in front of one and opened it.

I hesitated, just fit a second.

He turned to me, that same smile. That same promise of forgetting. He stands and extends a hand.

I stepped inside.

The room was plush,shadowy. A king-sized bed dominated the center, flanked by dim lamps. I turned to speak-- to say something, anything --- but he was already closing the door behind us.

The lock clicked, And everything shifted.

The warmth in his eyes vanished. The softness in his smile disappeared. In their place was something else--- something colder. Something darker.

"Liam... "I said slowly, my voice cracking.

He stepped towards me, his eyes colder and unreadable.

And suddenly my body screamed what my mind had ignored all along.

I wasn't safe.