Finally, he spoke. "Do you know what people come to me for?"
I shook my head, unable to form words.
"Power. Money. Salvation." His voice was calm, deep, the kind that made you lean in even if you wanted to run. "But nothing is free. Everything comes with a cost."
A shiver ran down my spine. My hands trembled at my sides. "I just… I need help. Please." My voice broke, the word please coming out softer than I wanted, almost a whisper.
His mouth curved, but it wasn't a smile. It was sharp, like he knew he had already won.
"Help?" he repeated slowly, as if tasting the word. He walked toward me, each step measured, controlled. The sound of his shoes against the marble echoed in the silence. My breath caught when he stopped just a few feet away, his shadow falling over me.
Up close, he was even more overwhelming. His suit fit him perfectly, his cologne was subtle but rich, and his presence made it hard to breathe.
"What exactly do you think you can offer me in return?" he asked.
My heart pounded so hard it hurt. Offer? I had nothing. No money, no power, no skills that mattered to someone like him.
"I… I don't know," I whispered, shame burning my cheeks.
He tilted his head, studying me. Then he leaned closer to me..
"Then let me decide what you're worth."
My breath hitched, my body freezing. His eyes locked on mine, unblinking, unrelenting
"I can help you," he said, his voice like steel wrapped in silk. "But nothing in my world is free. If you want my money, my protection… you'll belong to me."
The room tilted, and for a moment I couldn't breathe. Belong to him? My chest tightened, my heartbeat hammering so hard it almost hurt.
I should have run. I should have stood up, walked out of that glass tower, and never looked back. But my legs wouldn't move. Fear pinned me in place, but so did desperation.
"What… what does that mean?" I whispered, my voice so small I barely heard it myself.
His eyes narrowed, cold and sharp, and I swore the temperature in the room dropped. He leaned closer, lowering his head until his words brushed against my skin.
"It means," he said, slow and deliberate, "that if I save you… I own you. Every choice. Every breath. Every part of you will answer me."
Goosebumps broke across my arms. My mouth went dry. His words were terrifying, but worse than that, they felt final—like I was standing at the edge of a cliff, and once I stepped forward, there would be no ground left to catch me.
I shook my head weakly. "That sounds like… like a prison."
His lips curved, sharp and dangerous. "No," he said softly. "It's freedom. My kind of freedom."
I swallowed hard, my throat burning. My body trembled as I looked down at my shaking hands. Six days. That's all I had before I lost everything. Six days before the streets became my home.
Could I really walk away now?
"I don't have a choice," I whispered, more to myself than to him.
His gaze darkened, like he had been waiting for those exact words. He leaned back in his chair, powerful and calm, like a man who had just claimed something he always knew would be his.
"Good," he said, the word smooth and final. "Then the first lesson you'll learn in my world is this—choices are illusions. From now on, you don't ask. You don't bargain. You obey."
My stomach twisted, fear slamming through me like a violent wave. My hands curled into fists in my lap, trying to stop the trembling, but nothing worked. My throat was so tight it felt like I was choking on the words as I forced them out. "And if I say no?"
His eyes locked onto mine, unblinking, steady, and sharp enough to slice through me. That gaze made it impossible to look away, impossible to breathe.
"Then you walk out that door," he said simply, like it was the easiest thing in the world. "And you lose everything. Your home. Your job. Your life as you know it. You'll disappear into the gutter with the rest of the desperate. No one will remember your name. No one will care."
His words echoed inside me, sharp and cold. I felt them cut deeper than a knife.
My hands shook so badly I pressed them against my knees to keep them still. My mouth was dry, my throat tight. Was this really my choice? Was this all I had left?
What would happen if I said no?
I saw it in my mind—the door slamming shut behind me, the apartment gone, my things thrown out on the street. Me wandering with no place to go, no bed to sleep in, begging strangers for food, looking dirty, broken, invisible. Just another face, people stepped around like trash.
Tears stung my eyes. Could that really be me in a few days? Could I really fall that far?
Questions flooded me. How would I survive? Who would help me? Where would I go when night came and I had no roof over my head? What would happen when hunger twisted my stomach so tight I couldn't stand it anymore?
The fear grew so heavy it crushed me. My chest felt like it might burst. I wanted to run, but my legs were frozen. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out.
And still, his eyes were on me—calm, steady, waiting. Like he already knew which choice I would make.
My mind spun with panic. If I said yes, I was his. If I said no, I had nothing. Which was worse? Which would destroy me faster?
I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood, but it didn't stop the shaking in my hands. I felt trapped, caged, like a bird whose wings had already been clipped.
And in that moment, as his gaze pinned me in place, I realized the truth—whatever I chose tonight would change everything.
And now… I wasn't sure there was a way back.