I couldn't sleep that night. The shadows in my room felt heavier. I kept thinking about Kyler. His eyes. His voice. The way he walked away, like he already owned me.
And maybe he did.
Three hundred thousand dollars. Six months. And a father who couldn't even look me in the eye now.
"Dad," I whispered, standing by the doorway of his room. He lay curled on his bed, the blanket pulled over his head like a child hiding from monsters. "Why didn't you tell me?"
He didn't answer. Maybe he didn't have one.
I walked away.
That morning, I called in sick to the café where I worked. How could I pour coffee and smile at strangers when my life had fallen apart?
But I needed a plan.
Jobs. Loans. Scholarships. Anything. I started writing a list.
And then... I saw him again.
Kyler. Standing outside my house. Like the night before was just a warning, and now this was real.
I opened the door slowly. "Why are you here?"
He didn't answer right away. Just stared at me with those storm eyes.
"You don't have a plan," he said finally. "You won't make the money on your own."
"Thanks for the confidence," I muttered, crossing my arms.
"You want to save your father? Work for me."
I blinked. "Work for... you?"
He nodded. "I own several clubs. Businesses. Underground and aboveground. You'll work for me, I'll deduct your debt weekly. It'll be faster."
I hesitated. My chest felt tight. Like a net was being pulled around me.
"But if I say yes... you'll control my life."
He stepped closer. So close I could feel his breath. "I already do, Ash."
Something in me broke. And something else woke up.
"Fine," I whispered. "I'll work for you. But not because I'm scared. Because I'm strong enough to fix what my father broke."
His lips twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.
"You start tomorrow."
Then he turned and left.
The next day, I was in a black dress, walking into one of his elite clubs. It wasn't what I expected. Dark lights, expensive suits, loud music—but underneath, it felt dangerous. Like the walls were watching me.
"Keep your head down. Don't talk back. Do your job," Kyler said, handing me a tray of drinks. His hand brushed mine. I flinched.
He looked at me. Really looked. "You're scared of me," he said.
"No," I whispered. "I'm scared of losing myself."
He didn't say anything.
That night, I worked until my legs hurt and my heart burned. I saw things I never wanted to. Rich men with twisted smiles. Secrets being whispered in corners. And Kyler—always watching, always calm. Like a king ruling shadows.
And somewhere inside all that darkness, I saw something else.
Pain.
In him.
But I didn't have time to wonder why. Because I had to survive. For my father. For me.
And maybe, just maybe… to understand the man who had become my nightmare.