Her Ruthless Billionaire Savior

"Alright, Lola. I'll see you tomorrow," my co-worker calls out as I clock out for the day. It’s been a hectic shift, as usual, and I can’t wait to get home and rest. Speaking of home, I pull my phone from my pocket to call my father. The phone rings but goes to voicemail, which is unusual for him. It’s always been just my father and me. My mother died from excessive bleeding a few days after giving birth to me. Though it took years, I’ve learned to stop blaming myself for her death. My father has done everything in his power to ensure I have a good life, even with our limited means. I was lucky enough to attend high school because it was free, but college was out of reach due to the cost. Instead, I decided to get a job to help out, but my father hasn’t given up on his dream of seeing me in college. As I approach our small house, I notice an expensive SUV parked out front. My father didn’t mention expecting any visitors, which makes this odd. Feeling uneasy, I hurry inside. The sight before me stops me in my tracks. My father is on his knees, flanked by two intimidating men who look more like bodyguards—or thugs. Sitting in one of our worn-out chairs is another man, lounging as though he owns the place. One look at him and I already do not like him. “What’s going on here?” I ask, my voice firm despite the unease creeping in. My father’s face is etched with panic. “Lola, why? You’re not supposed to be home yet.” “Who are these people, Father? What are they doing here?” I ask, worry lacing my words. “Just… business people. Why didn't you call me?" he stammers, managing a weak shrug. “I called you, but you didn’t answer. Who are these men, and what do they want?” I press, stepping closer to him. Kneeling beside my father, I try to shield him from these strangers despite the fear rising in me. A throat clears, drawing my attention to the man lounging in the chair. His gaze is sharp, appraising me with an unsettling intensity. “Ah, Tom, you didn’t tell me you had such a beautiful daughter. She's quite grown now,” the man remarks, his eyes roving over me. I feel a wave of discomfort and instinctively move closer to my father. “Please, leave her out of this,” my father pleads, his voice breaking. “I’m the one you have business with.” “Tom, we had a deal. You were supposed to pay me back six months ago. I’m here for my money,” the man says gruffly. “I know, Carlos. Just give me more time,” my father begs desperately. “How much do you owe?” I ask, the worry in my chest growing. “Lola, stay out of this,” my father snaps, cutting me off. Carlos hasn’t stopped staring at me, his gaze invasive. My father continues pleading, his voice shaking with desperation. “Just one more month, and I’ll have your money,” my father says, clasping his hands as though in prayer. “That’s what you said last month,” Carlos replies, his tone indifferent as he rubs his hands together. “Carlos, you’re a good man. Please, just a little more time,” my father begs again. Carlos shrugs, a sly smile creeping onto his face. “Alright. I’ll give you more time. But…” He pauses, his eyes settling on me, sending a chill down my spine. “I’ll take something with me as motivation.” The sinister smile on his face makes my stomach churn. My father immediately moves to block me, but one of the men shoves him aside. “Please, take anything else. Not my daughter. She has nothing to do with any of this,” my father cries, his voice trembling. Carlos waves a dismissive hand. “She’ll stay with me until you pay. Once I get my money, she’s yours again. Simple. It's not that difficult.” “No! Please don’t take me!” I cry out, fear gripping me. Carlos signals to his men, and I hear the chilling click of a gun. I freeze, terrified for both my life and my father’s. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice, Tom,” Carlos says, his voice cold. “Don’t, Carlos. Please, leave her out of this. I beg you in the name of God,” my father begs, shaking his head. “My patience is wearing thin and secondly, I'm not religious so don't beg me in the name of God,” Carlos warns. “My next signal will be for the gun to go off. What do you say?” Tears stream down my father’s face as he remains silent, unwilling to give me up. But I can’t let him die because of me. “I’ll go with you! Please, don’t kill my father,” I yell, my voice breaking. Carlos’s expression shifts from irritation to twisted glee, “Smart girl.” “Lola, no! What are you doing? Don't do this, please!” my father cries, his voice filled with anguish. “It’ll only be for a short while, Father. I know you’ll find the money,” I try to reassure him, though my heart is heavy with fear. One of Carlos’s men yanks me to my feet, and my father’s sobs cut through the air. “Great,” Carlos says smugly. “So, Tom, I’ll keep your daughter until you pay what you owe. Until then, she’s mine.” They drag me to the SUV with nothing but the clothes on my back. Carlos slides into the seat beside me, his smirk chilling. “We’re going to have the time of our lives,” he sneers, licking his lips.