Pawned To Mr. Miller

"Becky, someone is looking for you outside, are you dealing with some kind of debt collector or something?" yelled Claire one of Becky's office mates.

"What do you mean?"

"Just go see them!" Claire waved her hand, telling her to leave.

Becky rose from her seat in annoyance and then walked fast to the office lobby. "Tina, is there someone who's expecting me?" she asked the receptionist.

Tina nodded her head. "Right behind you," answered Tina almost inaudibly.

When she turned her head, she could see five men in black suits standing in line behind her. They were all staring at her in silence. Nervously, she cleared her throat, "Excuse me, are you guys looking for me?"

"Rebecca Beckett?" One of the men spoke.

"Yes? That's me," she answered hesitantly.

"Mr. Miller is expecting you at his mansion right now!"

"Mr. Miller? I don't know anyone named Mr. Miller except the one who sells fresh milk next to my apartment, you must be mistaken! I don't have any business with whoever your boss is! Now, will you excuse me?" She turned around and was about to leave, but suddenly someone grabbed her hand and made her stop in anger.

"Hey! Get off my hand!"

"You have to come with us! It's about your father, William Beckett."

Becky's eyes widened in surprise, and she froze where she stood, "What did you say?" She asked in disbelief.

"You heard me clearly, Ms. Beckett, let's go!" said that man, pulling her hand to the office door.

"Wait! At least let me take my bag!" she begged.

"John, take her bag!" yelled that man to the other guy.

"No! No! Wait! You don't understand! I have to talk to my boss! I can't leave this office just like that! Especially after what you guys did in here!" she yelled, trying so hard to buy some time to look for help.

"Mr. Miller has talked to your boss."

"No way! You lied! You don't even know who my boss is!" she almost cried, she looked around the lobby and felt strange because all the staff including the security guards were just standing in silence, watching the scene.

"Mr. Charles Dupont, he is a good friend of Mr. Miller," answered the man impatiently.

Becky shook her head, "No! No! Please!" She almost cry but she couldn't do anything to escape from those men.

"Tina! Can you please call the police!" she screamed to Tina even though she knew Tina wouldn't help her because maybe Charles Dupont forbade her to.

The men in black suits took her into a black SUV that was parked right in front of her office. She bit her lip and held herself from crying. "Can you guys at least let me know what's going on here?" she asked, looking at the man sitting beside her.

"Mr. Miller will explain it by himself, no more question," said the man coldly. Becky snorted in annoyance, she had no choice but to follow their orders.

She became even more panicked when the black SUV got into a private airplane hangar.

"Oh, God! This is ridiculous! You can't do this to me! Where are you taking me!" shouted her, refusing to get out of the car.

"Tim, you can't take this woman if she kept thrashing around like that, you're going to crush us all," said someone called John.

Becky smiled nervously "He's right, you guys will have a hard time taking me, so just let me go, okay? I promise I'll keep my mouth shut, I swear to God!"

Tim and John looked at each other then they nodded their heads as if agreeing on something.

"I'm sorry Ms. Beckett but we have to do this for our safety," said John before he injected something into her body.

"What the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to kill me!" She yelled in anger, she tried to slap her hand on Tim's face, but suddenly she felt so sleepy that she fell on Tim's chest, unconsciously.

She woke up to the scent of lavender in her nose, she slowly opened her eyes. The room was all white with light gray curtains hanging neatly in the large windows, reminiscent of the house in the great gatsby movie she had seen years ago. Was she dead and in heaven already?

"She's awake Mr. Miller," a voice made Becky open her eyes. She just realized she was lying on the sofa among several people in black suits who were standing around her.

She sat up straight, "What are you guys doing?!" she squeaked, covering her breast with her hands. Then she realized what had happened earlier, Tim and John, the hangar, and everything. She must have gone a long way from New York, but where was she?

"Welcome to my castle!" An authoritative voice made her look up. In front of her stood a handsome man with a firm face and a sturdy body looking at her while leaning on a shelf, his arms folded in front of his chest arrogantly.

"Who are you?" snapped Becky with a suspicious look.

"You don't know who I am? I am James Miller! The richest man on earth!" he said with a big smile, showing the two deep dimples on his cheeks.

Becky gulped, she remembered what Tim had said earlier-that she was brought there because of something about his father.

"Whatever I don't care who you are, why did you bring me here?" she snapped in annoyance.

James Miller stepped forward and stood in front of her with his hands stuck into his trouser pockets.

"Your father stole something that is most precious to mine and I don't know where he is right now, I want you to bring him here right away or you will have to pay the price!" his voice was so sharp and full of anger that Becky was trembling with fear.

"I don't understand what you're talking about, I don't know what my Dad did to you! I don't have any idea about what it is! It's not fair! What if I couldn't find him?!" she yelled in panic.

"You only have two choices. Listen to me carefully!"

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Becky fell silent, she looked around the room, she knew she had no other choice but to listen to whatever James Miller had to say.

"Go ahead," she said curtly.

James snorted, he was quite surprised at how brave the woman in front of him was. He thought she was going to cry and kneel to him or something but she was not.

"This is the choice I give you, if you and your father couldn't return what he stole from me, the first option will be to send your father to jail as he should be and charge him with first-degree theft with a sentence of fifteen years in prison and you know what? I'll make sure your father got the worst prison ever!"

Becky glared, her body was shaking violently, in her life she had never had to deal with legal matters. She could not imagine that her fifty-eight-year-old father would languish and die in prison.

"Please don't do that to my father..." she pleaded with a trembling voice.

James Miller tilted his head, surveying Becky from head to toe.

"You still have a second choice," he said with a sinister smile.

Becky's eyes sparkled with hope, "Please?"

"If you love your father that much and don't want him to go to jail, well I can give him some leniency..." he was deliberately stalling for time, enjoying the game.

Becky nodded, smiling expectantly.

"I would give him more time to return what he stole from me, but in exchange..." he stared at Becky intensely and made her nervous.

"You'll have to come with me, and practically become my slave, well actually I told your father since the first time I found out that it was him who stole my painting, so basically I'll just wait for his approval, but he disappeared right now, so..." muttered James casually.

Becky rose to her feet, her face bright red.

"What did my father steal from you to make you so confident of turning me into a slave? You think I can't earn some money to pay back whatever it is he stole from you?!" she shouted, pointing angrily at James Miller's face.

"Hahaha! What did you just say? Earning some money to pay back what you're father has stolen from me? Wait, excuse me but what's your job at Dupont Communications? Public relations staff, isn't it? Let me guess, your salary for a year is probably around one hundred and twenty thousand dollars, am I right? " rambled James Miller which made Becky even more shrunken because his guess was almost right.

He took a step forward, his face right in front of her.

"So with that small amount of money that you have, how are you going to pay back the four hundred million dollars Leonardo Da Vinci painting that your father stole from me?"

Becky glared, her eyes almost popping out of place.

"What did you say? Four hundred million dollars?" she hissed in disbelief. She thought James was going to say he was joking or something, but the very serious expression on his face made her feel sick instantly.

"I need to throw up right now..." she mumbled expressionlessly.

James Miller raised an eyebrow, not taking her words seriously. But seconds later, Rebecca Beckett spitted out the vomit of the tuna sandwich she ate for lunch onto his expensive suit, causing him to close his eyes with his jaw clenched in anger.

Becky closed her eyes, panicking. She knew James Miller would curse her to death. Her brain was working fast, looking for a way. She had no other way but to relax her body and collapse onto his chest, pretending to be unconscious. But seconds later she regretted her decision because it made her smell her vomit that was stuck on James Miller's suit.

"TIM! FOR GOD'S SAKE! TAKE THIS WOMAN AWAY FROM ME!" shouted James Miller furiously.

Becky remained limply against her chest, hoping that she would be rescued from the situation soon. Moments later she heard footsteps that seemed to be Tim approaching her. Then she felt someone pull her off James's body and carried her away from there.

"Wake up! I know you're faking it!" chirped Tim as he threw Becky's body onto the sofa.

Becky opened her eyes, she quickly sat up and looked around, only Tim and her. She breathed a sigh of relief, "That was so close..." she muttered. Tim just snorted, turning his face the other way because Becky's skirt was lifted to reveal her underwear, but she soon noticed it and adjusted her skirt in annoyance.

"Where am I?" she asked curtly, her hands were busy cleaning her face, which was exposed to her vomit with the tissue lying on the table in front of her.

"Los Angeles," answered Tim promptly.

Becky took a deep breath, she felt very miserable.

"And where is my father?" she asked, almost in tears.

"Your father? Of course, he's looking for what he stole from Mr. Miller! do you think he's having a nice day or something?" Tim said in disbelief.

Becky snorted, "Hey! It wasn't your painting that was stolen! Why are you being such a nuisance like that arrogant man?!" she snapped.

Tim took a deep breath, he looked at her intently.

"I interviewed your father and recommended him to Mr. Miller to be one of the security guards in this mansion and see what he did in return!" he babbled with hardened jaws.

Hearing Tim's explanation, she immediately lowered her head in shame. She bit her lip, wondering what to do next. "Where's my bag and my cell phone? I have to go now and save my life!"

Tim stared at her for a long time, then he walked over to a table not far from him, opened the drawer, and pulled Becky's bag out of it. Without saying much, she rushed to grab her bag and then walked quickly towards the exit of the room that looked like a security office.

"Ms. Beckett!"

Suddenly Tim shouted out loud making her stop in her tracks. She turned to look at him with a frown, "What else?!" she snapped.

He took a deep breath, looking at her with pity.

"Your father is not what you think, you should just let him go to prison, he deserves it."

-----

Stupid Becky, she had never been to the elite mansions in LA before. They were all located very far apart and difficult to reach because they were a bit hidden. She walked the endless streets in her high heels, her cell phone was completely dead so she couldn't call an online taxi service. It was absolutely perfect!

Her mind wondered about the reason why her father stole James's Miller painting.

All this time, she thought her father was just an innocent and normal person. She never thought he would stumble into such a complicated matter. Fifteen years in prison? That sounds terrible! But being a slave to James Miller sounds even more terrifying!

She puffed out her cheeks, tired that she couldn't find a busy street even though she had walked almost two miles.

She walked limply to the side of the road and took off her painful high heels, it turned out that her feet were injured quite badly. Suddenly, tears dripped from her eyes one by one and were followed by loud cries. She felt very drained both physically and mentally, She didn't know where her father was, what if she couldn't find her?

Suddenly a loud horn sounded, making her turn around in surprise. Not only because of the sudden appearance of the car but also because she knew what kind of car it was! Bugatti La Voiture Noire! The most expensive car in the world! She had seen Christiano Ronaldo ride it, but suddenly she had a bad feeling about it, who would be behind the wheel?

Soon the car door opened and someone in sporty clothes got out of there.

''Shit!' she cursed when all she saw was James Miller, the person she had avoided the most.

"Get in!" said him with a straight face and cold intonation that gave Becky goosebumps.

"No! I'll find a way! You can't force me to get into your car!" she snapped confidently.

James Miller reached into his pocket, pulling out a cell phone.

"Listen to this carefully!" he said as he pressed a file on his cellphone, not long after the voice of a man who spoke with a thick Russian accent could be heard very clearly.

'My people said that Mr. Becket sold the painting to Sergei Antonov, you know Mr. Antonov never returns what he bought, right?'

Becky gulped, panicking.

"You mean my father is in Russia now?" he asked trembling.

"I don't know where the fuck is he right now but obviously, my painting is definitely in the wrong hands!"

"I can talk to my father and ask him to return the money to...who was that again? Um, Antonov whoever it was, then we can get your painting back and everything will be just fine," she said with a slight smile on her face.

James Miller's face hardened, "You don't know who Sergei Antonov is, do you? He is a first-class Russian mafia and he would never return what he bought from anyone! Because when he bought something from someone it means he wanted that thing so bad!" he barked in anger.

Becky gulped, and she bit her lip frantically. Thinking.

"Then I will ask my father to give the money from Sergei Antonov to you! You will get your money and my father will be free! It's brilliant, right?!"

James Miller took a deep breath, he was losing his temper. He walked quickly towards Becky who was still standing awkwardly barefoot.

"I don't know if you're an idiot or what, but the painting that your father stole from me is so rare! Do you think Leonardo Da Vinci would come back alive to paint that Salvator Mundi again? I don't need money I already have a lot!" he hissed, his eyes were stared at Becky sharply.

"I don't know anything! All I know is that I work day and night to support my two younger siblings! How can you bestow all this on me? I'm innocent!" shouted Becky as she threw her high heels on the ground. Her chest heaved up and down in annoyance. "You know what? Just put him in jail I don't care! This is too much for me!" said her at last. She walked away from James Miller, limp and barefoot.

"Okay, but I changed my mind, I won't bother putting your father in jail, I can just kill him, it will make me feel better," said James Miller nonchalantly. He turned around and walked casually to his sports car.

Becky stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide in surprise. She turned around and shouted,

"You're kidding aren't you?!"

James Miller who was opening the car door turned his head, he looked at her with a scornful look. "You think someone like me can joke around? I changed my mind after I heard about Sergio Antonov, your father has gone too far..."

Becky felt the chills down her spine instantly, her hands and feet sweaty and shaking. She was scared, what if James Miller ended her father's life?

When James Miller started to restart the car's engine, Becky was in a state of confusion. Should she run in his way and become his slave? Or should she just turn away and pretend nothing happened?

She closed her eyes, counting to three, and then she felt her feet sprint and stop in front of the car with her arms outstretched. "I will cooperate! Please! Don't kill my father!" she shouted so loudly that her veins were visible. She could see James Miller staring at her with a dark, triumphant gaze.

"Get in!" barked James Miller, gesturing with his hand.

Holding back tears she stepped into the world's most expensive car, she couldn't believe what she had just said earlier, was that mean she would be James Miller's slave forever?

The car was speeding through the black asphalt. Becky sat limply, her eyes both empty. This morning she was still eating cereal with Phoebe and Alex planning what to do for the weekend, things were happening so fast that she didn't have time to think about it.

Suddenly, James's cell phone rang, he pushed the green button and talked through the AirPods in his ear, and seconds after that,

"Where are you taking me?" asked Becky without turning to him.

"To your father, didn't I tell you, I can do anything?" he answered lightly, he just got the call from his people that they had William Beckett with them.

Becky turned around in surprise, her heart racing so fast she was having trouble breathing.

"Do whatever you want but please don't kill him..."

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