"Mom, I fucking told you to stop sleeping around with men for money," Mira shouted, voice sharp and unforgiving as the front door creaked open. She flicked on the light, the yellow glow flooding the room just in time to catch her mother sneaking in like a thief.
Gods help her, it was already this late—where the hell else could Sydney have gone, if not her usual rounds doing God knows what? Her mother flinched—shook or jumped, whatever—clearly startled that her plan to slip in unnoticed had failed. Mira caught her. Dead in the act.
But Sydney, ever unbothered, tried to recover quickly, waving it off with a breathless chuckle. "Not exactly that," she said, brushing past her daughter with a forced calm. "But if everything goes well, I'll actually be landing a decent job soon. Then we'll be able to afford your term's school fees so you can finally go back."
Mira's heart twisted at the idea. Of course she wanted to go back. Desperately. But she wasn't stupid either.
She eyed her mother with pure disbelief. "I just hope this so-called plan you're talking about doesn't still involve you selling your body," she muttered, standing up, voice low and laced with fatigue. Her chest ached. She couldn't pretend this was normal anymore. Her mother selling herself just so she could chase a future? Fuck no.
Sydney rolled her eyes, as usual.
Changing the subject, she asked for something to eat.
Mira's lips pressed into a thin line. "I haven't cooked. Obviously," she said flatly. "There's no money for ingredients. I'm starving myself."
Sydney frowned. "Damn. I forgot."
Then she reached into her worn-out purse and dug out a few crumpled bills. "Call Chris to go get something. Whatever this can manage."
"I haven't seen Chris all day," Mira said, brows pulling together. "Actually, I was going to ask you if you've seen him. I was getting worried."
Her mother's face shifted. "I've got no clue where that boy is," she muttered, clearly irritated. "God help me with that son of mine. I just hope he's not out there causing trouble again."
Mira rolled her eyes right back at her. "Uh huh, Mum. I'm sure he just went out to escape this hell of a house. Trust him for once—"
But she didn't finish.
Because the knock that followed—
It wasn't just a knock.
It was violent. Loud. Bone-shaking. The kind of knock that carried hostility, not curiosity. Whoever was outside wasn't Chris. Hell, it wasn't anyone they knew. They never had guests.
"I'll get it," Sydney said quickly, already moving because Mira was curled up deeper in the room, far from the door.
"Uh huh," Mira murmured, not paying much attention at first.
Until she heard the click of the door unlocking.
Then came her mother's voice. Sharp. Terrified.
"Oh no!!""Mum?" Mira called out at her mother's scream. "What's wrong? Who's at the door?" Dread was already washing over her like icy water.
Her mum replied in shock, voice trembling. "It's… some group of men… they're at the door and Christopher—"
Sydney didn't even get to finish before the door slammed open wide, and one of the men stepped in with a chilling voice:
"Do you dare to keep us standing?"
Then, with a sharp wave of his hand, he ordered his men, "Get in."
All of them obeyed, barging in like they owned the damn place. But Mira hadn't even registered what was happening—
Or rather, her mind had shut down the moment her mother had said: some men were at the door.
That one sentence had her scrambling—out of the living room, out of the hallway, dashing into their small, tiny room, heart pounding like war drums. She tore through drawers, desperate for anything to wear, anything to cover her body.
She couldn't let whoever those men were see her in nothing but a pair of shorts that barely covered her butt cheeks and a flimsy tank top. Not like this. Not in this state. But of course, this humiliating situation? It was all thanks to her mum.
Because when you could barely afford food, rent, or even school… forget about affording decent clothes.
Wrong.
Because Sydney, due to the kind of work she did, always insisted on looking good—always ready to catch a rich customer. And since she and Mira were practically the same size (though Mira was definitely curvier), her mother had declared unapologetically that they'd share the same clothes.
So now, Mira was stuck wearing her mother's revealing outfits, feeling like a whore every damn time. But she had no choice. She had to make do.
With a hiss of frustration, Mira grabbed a long duster jacket from the wall hook—one of those lightweight, casual jackets you just throw on over tank tops and shorts. She flung it over her body and dashed out.
Only to freeze.
Because what she saw made her stomach sink like a stone in water.
Four men.
Four large, looming, dominant-looking men were sitting in their cramped living room like it belonged to them. Their presence didn't feel normal—
It was like they carried a kind of aura Mira had never felt before. Raw. Untamed. Dangerous. Predatory.
And there—right beside them—was her brother.
Christopher.
Sitting.
Or more accurately, held.
He looked beaten. Battered. Slightly, but enough to make her blood boil.
Mira's breath caught in her throat. What had her brother gotten himself into this time?
The men didn't even notice her entrance. Maybe because of the thick tension in the air. Or maybe because she didn't matter.
But before she could move, before she could even speak— Smack—
Her mother's hand landed hard on Christopher's already bruised face, making him yelp.
Mira's heart twisted painfully in her chest.
"You!!!" her mother snapped, voice full of fury and heartbreak. "Aren't you already stupid enough?! Then you dare to gamble?! And not just with anyone—with werewolves?!"
Mira felt her entire body go cold.
Her stomach dropped.
Werewolves?
Her brother had gambled with fucking werewolves?!
She wanted to scream.
They were humans. They spent every second of their lives avoiding werewolves. Everyone knew the danger. Everyone feared it.
But that? That was a story for another time.
Because right now? Her idiot brother had officially killed them all.
"Mom… what's wrong?" Mira asked quietly, only loud enough for her mum to hear. Her brother looked too ashamed to even raise his head. The men didn't glance her way. Not even once.
As if she wasn't even worth acknowledging.
Fuck them.
"Why does your brother only know how to cause trouble?" Sydney choked out with a sob. She was crying now.
Crying.
This was serious.
"Mum, I'm sure it's a mistake. Tell me what's going on…"
"Mistake?!" Sydney roared, spinning to face her. "What fucking mistake?! This fool dared to gamble with werewolves—werewolves—and guess what he used as collateral?!"
Mira's chest tightened. Please no.
Sydney's voice cracked with rage.
"He used our house. The only roof over our heads! And now—"
Her voice trembled.
"Now we still owe them a debt up to thousands… of millions of dollars. And they're here… to take our house. The only thing we have left."