Chapter 2 - The Debt
The silence in the SUV felt thick enough to choke on.
Norah’s carefully rehearsed apologies died in her throat. She had expected a gangster. She hadn't expected a man who calculated trajectories and intent before the wine had even dried.
"You did it on purpose," Victor continued, his tone entirely devoid of anger. "Which means you are either incredibly brave, or you are trying to die. Judging by the fact that your pulse is currently hammering hard enough to visibly move the silk at your collar... I assume it's the former."
Norah swallowed hard. She didn't look away from his dark, exhausted eyes.
"Fineian Hastings is my brother," she said. Her voice shook, but she forced the words out. "He owes your people two hundred thousand dollars. He ran. They gave me until tomorrow to pay it."
Victor’s expression didn't change. He simply leaned back against the leather seat, staring at her with a terrifying, absolute stillness.
"Hastings," Victor repeated softly, his mind clearly cataloging the ledger. "The underground tables in the South Ward. My lieutenants run those. If they gave you a deadline, they intend to enforce it."
"I don't have the money," Norah said, her voice dropping to a desperate whisper. "I work double shifts at a bakery, Mr. Russo. My life savings wouldn't cover the interest on what he owes you. I couldn't get a meeting with you. This was the only way I could think of to get your attention."
"So you assaulted me in front of the mayor to negotiate a debt you can't pay," Victor deduced, a dark, humorless amusement finally flickering in his eyes. "Tell me, Norah. What exactly is your counteroffer?"
"Me," Norah breathed.
Victor stopped moving.
"I'll work for you," she rushed on, the words tumbling out before she lost her nerve. "I'll clean your properties. I'll launder money. I'll run messages. I don't care what it is. I'll work every day for the rest of my life if I have to. Just call off your men. Let my brother go."
For a long, agonizing minute, the only sound was the hum of the SUV’s engine as it glided through the dark city streets.
Victor looked at her, truly looked at her. He saw the cheap shoes beneath the expensive, rented dress. He saw the desperation vibrating in every line of her body. He saw a woman who was willing to sacrifice her entire future for a brother who had abandoned her.
"You have absolutely no idea what you're offering," Victor said, his voice dropping to a register that made the hair on her arms stand up. "In my world, Norah, women who offer themselves to clear a debt do not clean floors."
Norah’s breath hitched, a fresh wave of panic rising in her chest.
Victor reached out. His large, warm hand wrapped around the back of her neck. He didn't pull her closer, but the sheer weight of his touch was completely paralyzing.
"You aren't cut out for my world," Victor murmured, his thumb resting dangerously close to the frantic pulse in her throat. "But you are right about one thing. You belong to me now. Your brother's debt is cleared. I'll make the call tonight."
May you like
Tears of relief instantly sprang to Norah’s eyes. "Thank you," she gasped. "Thank you, I swear I'll work—"
"You misunderstand," Victor interrupted smoothly, dropping his hand from her neck. He turned back to the window, watching the city blur past. "You aren't working for me, Norah. You are going to marry me."
