Anna opened the door the moment Raya knocked, almost like she'd been waiting.
"Raya—" Her voice was gentle, but her face twisted in worry the moment she saw her.
Raya didn't say anything, just gave a little smile. Her body moved on its own, walking past Anna into the warmth of the apartment. Her shoulders were slumped, her face pale. Her steps were quiet, like someone carrying invisible chains.
Anna closed the door behind her, carefully. "Did you eat anything? I made—"
"I'm fine," Raya said, her voice flat.
She dropped her bag beside the couch and sank into it slowly, as if even sitting took effort. Anna sat down beside her and, for a while, they said nothing. Sometimes silence said more than words.
Then, softly, Anna asked, "The $20,000?"
"I paid for it."
"Then why do you look like that didn't solve anything?"
Raya laughed—a small, bitter sound.
"Because it didn't." Her fingers twisted together in her lap. "There's more. So much more. I thought it was five hundred thousand. But I was wrong."
Anna turned, alarmed. "What do you mean? You told me it was five hundred and twenty thousand dollars"
Raya looked at her, eyes hollow. "It's seven hundred thousand now and we are to pay in two weeks."
Anna blinked. "Seven…? Jesus Christ of Nazareth, Raya."
"I don't even know what to feel anymore." She buried her face in her hands. "He said he borrowed from them…the ones I paid today, then went to some place, because a friend told him about a place to gamble. Said he'd win big. And he did — once. Just enough to get him hooked."
Anna said nothing. She already knew how the rest of the story would go. It always went the same way.
"He kept borrowing. And kept losing. Until he owed them five hundred thousand. Then they added two hundred more in interest."
Raya let out a shaky breath while Anna listened quietly.
"Do you know what it's like to work yourself until your bones hurt, just to hand it all over to men who laugh as they take it from you?"
Anna nodded, eyes glistening, but stayed silent.
"I haven't bought new shoes in three years, Anna," Raya whispered. "I haven't owned underwear that didn't have holes. And my father—he just keeps... drowning us… drowning me deeper."
Anna reached out and placed her hand over Raya's.
"Then stop, Raya. Please. Stay here. Let him go. He's going to take you down with him, if this continues. After this he's going to do something bigger."
"I can't." Her voice cracked. "He's all I have."
There's no way she can forsake him—what if those people kill him if he can't pay them?
Anna stood up suddenly, frustration boiling over. "No, he's not! You have me. You've always had me. And if you'd just let me in more, maybe you wouldn't be carrying this all alone!"
Raya looked up at her, startled.
"I'm sorry," Anna breathed, softening. "I just… I hate watching you break like this."
"I don't know how to fix it, Anna," Raya whispered. "I'm scared. I'm so tired, and now it's not just him that's in danger. If we can't pay, they'll come for me. I am the woman here, I can be sold, I can be raped, anything can happen to me."
Anna clenched her jaw, staring toward her desk where her half-finished sketch still glowed on her Huion tablet screen.
There was a long pause, then she muttered, "I wish money could be drawn, not earned. I'd make you a million dollars with one stroke."
That drew a small smile from Raya.
"You remember what master Liu Wenqing said?" Anna asked with a faint smirk.
Raya chuckled, murmuring with her, almost in sync:
"A pen may be small, but with it you can draw a world no one can take from you."
They sat in silence for a while after that. The clock ticked. The city outside went on its way — unaware, uncaring.
But in that room, between two best friends, something shifted.
Anna stood and moved toward her desk. She sat again in her chair, looking over her sketches with new eyes.
Raya leaned her head back against the couch, eyes half-closed.
"I'll get a night shift," she mumbled. "Maybe two. Try to find someone who can lend me—"
"No," Anna said firmly. "Not this time."
Raya opened her eyes.
Anna didn't turn back. Her hand hovered over her digital pen.
"Just rest tonight," she said. "Or else you might fall sick and that won't solve anything."
Raya smiled; she knew Anna was just worried about her, but now was not the time for rest.
"You know I don't have the leisure of resting right now."
Anna shook her head in denial. "But still you can't work yourself to death too."
Raya smiled again and sat there, thinking: is there any way she could make 700,000 in two weeks?
—
ADRIAN BLAKE'S STUDY – MORNING
The room was silent, heavy with tension.
Sunlight spilled in through the tall windows, glinting off the polished wood of the desk where Adrian Blake sat. His jaw was clenched, one hand slowly rotating the gold ring on his finger, the other drumming impatiently against the desk's surface.
Across from him stood three of his men — all sharp, serious, visibly uneasy.
Stephen stood to the side, silent but watchful.
One of the men — tall, lean, clearly nervous — stepped forward.
"We've checked all possible routes, sir," he began, his voice steady despite the weight of Adrian's gaze. "There was no record of Miss Seraphina leaving the estate through official gates. No camera footage. No staff saw her leave. It's like she... disappeared."
Adrian's fingers stopped drumming.
Disappeared?
He rose slowly from the chair, his towering presence silencing the room even more.
"She disappeared?" His voice was calm — too calm. "My fiancée vanishes, and you have the guts to come here telling me she disappeared?"
No one spoke.
Adrian's eyes burned. He slammed his fist on the desk — the sharp crack of impact echoed through the study. Everyone flinched.
"I pay you to prevent things like this," he snapped. "And you're standing here empty-handed?"
Stephen cleared his throat carefully. "We've already widened the search. Checking surveillance footage from the city, nearby hotels, airports—"
"Then check further," Adrian growled. "I don't care how many hours it takes. I want every damn exit combed. I want to know if she took a cab, walked, or flew. If she disappeared, I want to know who helped her."
"Yes, sir," the man said quickly.
Adrian didn't look at them again. He waved his hand toward the door.
"Get out."
The three men left immediately, the door shutting behind them with a heavy thud.
Stephen remained.
Adrian didn't sit back down. He walked to the bar at the side of the room, poured a glass of water, and downed it in one go.
For a moment, silence again.
Then, quietly, calmly — too calmly — he spoke without turning around.
"Get me the ledger from the casino. The one we don't show the public."
Stephen blinked. "Sir?"
Adrian finally looked at him, eyes sharp.
"The debt ledger. I want a list of everyone who owes me. Bring it to me."
Stephen nodded slowly. Thoughts raced through him. Everyone owing Adrian is in deep trouble now that he's getting involved in their debt himself.
Adrian continued, his tone ice-cold. "If I can't control what I've lost... I'll control what I can."
Stephen hesitated a second longer. "Understood."
Adrian finally turned his gaze out the window — expression unreadable.
"Also," he added, "tell them I want full profiles. Family, employment, known addresses. If someone owes me... I want to know their entire life."
Stephen gave a short nod. "I'll ask them to bring it within the hour."
As he turned to leave, Adrian added one final order:
"And Stephen — start with anyone whose debt exceeds a million. I don't want to deal with peanuts."