The silence in the office was thick, heavy enough to drown in. Gerald Elliston stood before the massive mahogany desk, his hands shaking so violently he had to clasp them behind his back. He looked pathetic—a man who had spent his entire life pretending to be a titan, now reduced to a shivering mess.
"Please, Mr. Ashcroft," Gerald stammered, his voice thin and brittle. "I will pay it back. Every cent. I just need a little more time. The merger with the Voss family, it's going to fix everything. I promise you."
Damien Ashcroft didn't move. He sat in the high-backed leather chair, his long legs crossed at the ankles, looking like a king on a stolen throne. His eyes were cold, fixed on Gerald with a terrifying lack of emotion.
"When, Gerald?" Damien's voice was a low, gravelly vibration that seemed to rattle the very walls of the room. "Three years from now? Ten years? This debt has already been overdue for far too long. I'm not a bank, and I certainly don't have a reputation for patience."
He leaned forward slightly, the movement as deliberate and predatory as a shark in shallow water. "Do you need me to remind you of what happens when someone thinks I'm a joke? When someone tries to play games with my money and my time?"
Zara, sitting in the velvet chair to the side, felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She flinched at the raw, uncompromising power in his voice. Why was he saying that? And why was he looking at her when he said it? His gaze was heavy, possessive, as if he were already counting her among his assets.
Gerald's legs seemed to give out. He sank to his knees on the thick Persian rug, his forehead nearly touching the floor. "I will do anything, Mr. Ashcroft! Anything! Just give me a chance to make it right. Name your price. Anything!"
Damien let the silence stretch for a long, agonizing minute. He looked at Gerald's bowed head with a look of profound contempt.
"Anything?" Damien repeated, the word sounding like a death sentence.
"Yes! Anything!" Gerald cried out, his desperation palpable.
"Fine," Damien said, his voice flat and final. "Give me your daughter."
The air in the room seemed to vanish. Zara's heart stopped, a sharp, painful jolt in her chest. Beside her, Lyra's eyes widened, a flash of pure, unadulterated greed crossing her face. She immediately sat up straighter, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and lowering her gaze in a way she clearly thought was shy and alluring. A faint, triumphant smile tugged at Lyra's lips. She had already decided that Damien Ashcroft was the prize she deserved, and now he was asking for her.
But Gerald's reaction was different. He knew exactly what kind of man Damien Ashcroft was. He knew that "giving" a daughter to a man like that wasn't a marriage; it was a sacrifice. He looked up, his face pale and eyes wide with a genuine, horrifying realization.
"Please… Mr. Ashcroft," Gerald whispered, his voice trembling. "Anything but my daughter. Please. I can't do that."
Damien let out a short, dry laugh—a sound that carried no warmth. "I didn't know you loved your daughter this much, Gerald. It's a touching display. Truly."
Gerald's jaw tightened. "She is my daughter. I can't… I can't just hand her over to you like a piece of property."
Damien's expression shifted, the cold amusement vanishing to be replaced by a dark, dangerous intensity. He stood up, his height making the room feel even smaller, more claustrophobic.
"Break off that engagement," Damien ordered, his voice echoing through the office like a gavel. "Harlan Voss doesn't get her. I'm taking her with me. Now."
The shock in the room was absolute. Everyone stared at him, their faces frozen in various states of disbelief. No one—not Lyra, not Vivienne, not even Gerald—had thought he was talking about Zara. She was the "burden," the "unwanted" one, the girl who was being sold to Harlan to save the family. Why would a man like Damien Ashcroft want her?
Lyra's face went from shyly flirty to fuming with anger in a heartbeat. She stood up, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Her? You want her? But… why? I'm the one who's been here! I'm the one who's actually worth something to this family!"
Gerald looked at Zara, then back at Damien, his mind clearly racing. He couldn't bear to break the alliance with the Voss family. It was his only other lifeline. But looking at the man standing before him, he knew that refusing Damien Ashcroft was a death sentence.
"I don't agree," Zara said, her voice shaking but clear. She stood up, her eyes locking onto Damien's with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I'm not a piece of currency to be traded between men. I don't know who you think you are, but I'm not going anywhere with you."
Damien turned his gaze to her, his eyes dark and unyielding. He moved around the desk with a slow, predatory grace until he was standing only inches away from her. The scent of him—sandalwood and expensive bourbon—filled her senses, making her dizzy.
"I'm taking you with me, dear," Damien said, his voice a low, possessive growl that made her knees weak. "And there is absolutely nothing you can do about it."
Lyra let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "You want her? Do you even know what she is? She's a disgrace! She was out all night yesterday, sleeping with some random man she met at a party. She's probably already soiled beyond repair! What could you possibly see in her that you couldn't find in someone better? Someone like me?"
Gerald hissed at Lyra, trying to get her to shut up, but she was too far gone in her jealousy. She wanted to destroy Zara, to make sure that if she couldn't have Damien, then Zara definitely wouldn't either.
Damien turned his head slowly toward Lyra. The look in his eyes was so cold, so profoundly threatening, that she actually took a step back, the words dying in her throat.
"One more word from you," Damien said, his voice like a razor edge, "and you will regret even having the ability to speak to me. Do not test my patience, little girl."
Lyra went pale, her mouth snapping shut as she stared at him in terror. She couldn't believe it. Why would he choose Zara? Why would he protect her after hearing what she'd done? Did Zara know him before? Had she been planning this all along?
Damien turned back to Zara. She was glaring at him, her eyes bright with a mixture of fury and a sudden, sharp realization. The pieces were finally starting to fall into place in her mind. The way he looked at her. The way he'd talked about "transactions." The way he'd known exactly where she lived.
"You think I won't find you after you disappeared this morning?" Damien asked, his voice dropping to a whisper that only she could hear. "You think you can just leave a bill on my nightstand and walk away from what happened between us?"
The room went silent again, but this time, it was a different kind of silence. Gerald and Lyra stared at them, their eyes wide with a shock so profound they couldn't even speak. They looked at Zara, then at Damien, their minds reeling as they processed the words.
Was he the man? Was Damien Ashcroft the stranger Zara had spent the night with?
Gerald felt the world tilting beneath his feet. He had tried to sell his daughter to one monster, only to find out she had already given herself to a man who was far more dangerous. And Lyra… Lyra felt a rage so intense it was almost physical. Zara hadn't just gotten lucky; she had managed to ensnare the most powerful man in the city while they were busy trying to ruin her.
Zara stared at Damien, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. She had thought he was a gigolo. She had treated him like a service provider. And now, he was here to collect a debt that she could never hope to pay.
"You…" Zara whispered, her voice failing her.
"Me," Damien confirmed, his eyes locking onto hers with a dark, triumphant light.
He reached out and gripped her arm, his touch firm and possessive. He didn't ask her to follow. He simply began to lead her toward the door, his presence so overwhelming that no one—not her father, not her sister, not even Harlan Voss—dared to stop him.
The game was over. he was just getting started. And Zara was about to find out exactly what happens when you try to pay off a man who owns the world.