The apartment was dark when she stepped inside, the quiet hum of the refrigerator the only sound. She dropped her bag by the door and kicked off her shoes, not even bothering to straighten them. Her feet felt like lead.
Her stomach growled. Loud. Empty.
She opened the fridge — a bottle of water, half a tomato, and some leftover rice Anna had probably been too tired to finish. She shut the door. Her head hurt too much to think about eating, and cooking?
She gave a short, breathless laugh.
Raya Calder couldn't cook to save her life — maybe she could boil water — and tonight, she didn't even have the strength to try.
---
Anna was already asleep, curled up on her side in the queen-sized bed they shared like sisters. Her tablet rested on the nightstand, the screen dark. She'd probably passed out mid-sketch again.
Raya moved quietly, shedding her clothes with clumsy fingers and slipping into a clean oversized T-shirt and shorts. Her body felt bruised all over. Her back, her feet, her thighs — all aching from days of nonstop work.
She slid into bed slowly and curled up before Anna, nestling her face into the warmth of her friend's neck. Then, needing something more, she shifted again until her head rested against Anna's chest.
Anna stirred.
Her arm looped around Raya instinctively, her voice thick with sleep. "You must be really tired, baby…"
Raya didn't reply.
She just nodded once, slow and small.
Anna whispered a soft, drowsy, "Sorry…" before drifting back into sleep.
Raya lay there in silence.
Eyes open.
Staring at nothing.
The kind of tired she felt wasn't just in her bones — it was in her chest, her lungs, her soul.
She thought of the bills she hadn't paid. The calls she didn't answer. The voicemails she couldn't bring herself to open.
Her hand slid beneath the pillow, fingers brushing against the envelope of her earnings.
Not more than 3,000. It wasn't even close. She needed over 700k.
What was she supposed to do now?
Four days. Seven shifts a day. A stunt gig that left her knee bruised. A bar shift that ended in spilled beer and cruel stares. Coffee burns on her hand. A fake smile stretched too thin.
All for this?
Her chest tightened. Her eyes stung. But she didn't cry.
Not now.
Another voicemail came in.
And she didn't listen this time.
Because she already knew what it said.
And because she didn't know what to do anymore.
Just silence.
And the soft, rhythmic rise and fall of Anna's breathing beneath her cheek.
---
Raya woke up early, slipping out of bed before the sun had fully risen. Anna was still curled under the blankets, unaware as Raya quietly got dressed and stepped out of the apartment.
She didn't leave a note.
Didn't say goodbye.
There was a weight pressing against her chest — one that no sleep or comfort could ease.
Whatever happens, she thought, it should be borne by her father and her. No one else.
It was better not to implicate anybody — especially not her friend Anna.
---
The coffee shop was quiet in the early hours. Raya tied on her apron and went about her shift mechanically. She smiled at customers, took orders, handed out drinks, wiped down tables. Her body moved, but her mind was somewhere else — on her father, on the deadline, on the crushing weight of the $700,000 she had no way of paying.
When her shift ended, she stepped outside and checked her phone.
Missed calls.
Eight of them.
All from "Dad."
She didn't call back. What would she say? Sorry, I still don't have it? Keep holding on?
Her screen buzzed again.
Bank alert: 20,000 received.
Message from Anna: "That's all I have."
Raya's eyes burned.
A bitter smile tugged at her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes.
Anna had been working non-stop on commissions for weeks. She'd been saving to get a new drawing tablet… and now she'd just handed it all over to Raya, without even hesitating.
---
She was on her way to the next shift when the black car pulled up beside her.
Everything happened so fast.
A door swung open.
Hands grabbed her.
She didn't even have time to scream before she was shoved inside and the door slammed shut.
---
When Raya woke up, she was tied to a chair, her wrists behind her back, ankles bound tight to the legs of the chair. Her heart pounded, but she didn't struggle.
She looked around but couldn't see because of the blindfold covering her eyes.
Where was she?
Then a voice — hoarse, familiar — came from her left.
"Please... please don't hurt me. My daughter will pay the money. Just give her time…"
Her heart stopped. "Dad?"
"Raya? Raya, is that you? Are you here with the money?"
"I—" Raya's throat dried up. She couldn't finish the sentence. Where was she supposed to get that kind of money?
"Raya, answer me!" Philip cried, his voice full of desperation.
"Shut up," one of the guards barked.
Suddenly, the cloth covering her face was yanked off. Her eyes squinted, adjusting to the bright chandelier above.
And there he was.
Adrian Blake.
Sitting across from them like a king watching prisoners.
Stephen stood beside him. Other suited men flanked the room, silent and armed. Including Ace and Stone.
Raya blinked, stunned. "You?" Her voice was ragged with disbelief. "Why would you kidnap us? This is illegal, Mr. Blake. I don't care how rich you are, but this is illegal!"
Adrian's lips curved — a chuckle, low and amused. "Kidnap? Miss Calder, please. You're here because your father owes me money. Two million, sixty thousand, to be precise."
Raya's face paled. "W-What?"
She turned sharply toward her father. "You owe the loan sharks 700,000. That's what you said…"
Philip looked away, shame clouding his face.
"Wait…" Raya's voice cracked, jumping with desperation in her seat. "You said the original debt was 500,000. With interest, it became 700,000. How do you owe him over two million?"
Adrian leaned forward, calm and cold. "I don't know anything about 700,000. I just know your father borrowed from one of my companies. A very specific sum. And now the deadline is here."
He smiled.
"I want my money."
Raya turned again. "Dad... say something."
But Philip remained silent. Shoulders hunched. Eyes on the floor. Like the truth was too heavy to speak.
Her heart dropped.
"You owe two million..." she whispered.
"And sixty thousand," Stephen corrected politely.
Raya ignored him and asked her father again.
"You're owing two million and seven hundred thousand? How many people did you borrow from?"
She thought the two debts were separate and her father was owing two different people.
But Philip just looked away without saying anything.
Was the loan shark not even the biggest threat? she thought.
"Say something, Philip Calder!" Raya shouted.
"Only him," Philip said, pointing at Adrian. "Two million, sixty thousand."
Raya scoffed. "Only two million." Her lips curled in a mocking smile.
Her world tilted.
This was beyond anything she could fix. Her father had been lying about his debt amount — for what? Why was this man treating her this way?
Two million dollars… even if she was given two lifetimes, there was no way she could pay that amount of money.
And now, she was sitting in front of a man she boldly told she would never need his help.
"Dad… how could you do this?" Raya choked out, her voice rising. "How could you owe this much? Where do you expect me to see such an amount of money?"
Before Philip could answer, Ace snapped at her, "Enough! This isn't a family reunion. Only the boss gets to ask questions."
"One more word from you guys, and you'll regret it," another one said.
The man was massive, with a scar running down his cheek. His name was Dante.
Stephen stepped forward, cool and direct. "Mr. Philip, do you have the money?"
Philip didn't answer. His eyes were wild, terrified. He turned to Raya instead, pleading. "Say something… please…"
Raya's lips trembled, but she forced herself to speak. "We don't have that kind of money… but if you'll give us time, I'll find a way. I'll do whatever I can."
Adrian tilted his head, studying her. "How much time?"
"I… I don't know…" Raya stuttered as tears dripped down her eyes.
She had promised herself not to cry, but this was beyond her.
He leaned forward. "Then tell me, Miss Calder—how exactly do you plan to get me two million?"
"I'll pay you monthly," she said, voice shaking. "If you give me a year—maybe more—I'll work day and night, very hard. I'll pay for it all. Please."
A cruel chuckle echoed in the room. The men standing around burst out laughing — everyone but Stephen, Adrian, and one other guy.
Ace's laughter was the loudest, as if happy with her misfortune.
The guy must have had a personal grudge against her.
Adrian's face remained carved from stone. "I want my money today."
"I only have 23,000." Her voice cracked. "That's all I've managed to save. It's everything I have."
Adrian's lips curved into a mocking smile. "I gave you a way out yesterday. You refused. And now? Here we are."
Raya bit her lower lip, her body tense. She had underestimated him. She thought Adrian Blake was heartless — she never imagined he'd be this cruel.
Her eyes shifted to her father. Tears welled up.
Was she really going to sacrifice herself for him?