His By Contract

Collateral

Damian's POV

"Has he paid?"

Damian's voice was calm, almost indifferent.

The man on the other end of the phone hesitated. "No, sir."

Damian leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the city beyond the glass windows of his office.

"Then why am I still hearing his name?"

"He came up with another arrangement."

Damian's fingers stopped tapping against the armrest. "Explain."

"He says he can't clear the debt yet. Not the full amount."

Damian's expression hardened. "He had enough time. And enough warnings."

"Yes, sir."

He was silent for a moment before speaking again. "What arrangement?"

The man hesitated, then cleared his throat. "He offered his daughter. He says she'll stay with you until he can clear the debt. Once the money is paid in full, she'll be free to leave."

Silence filled the line. Damian slowly leaned forward.

"So, after gambling away everything he had, he decided his daughter was the last thing he could use to buy himself more time."

"He says it's the only thing he has left to offer."

A humorless smile crossed Damian's face. "Interesting."

"Should I tell him the arrangement is unacceptable?"

"No." The answer came immediately.

The man went quiet. Damian reached for the folder sitting on his desk and opened it.

"How old is she?"

"Nineteen."

"Does she know?"

"Her father says her mother will explain everything."

Damian's gaze remained on the figures in the folder. "Then let her mother explain it."

"And the arrangement?"

"She stays with me until the debt is paid."

There was a brief pause. "And if he doesn't pay?"

Damian looked up. "Then she stays." His voice was cold enough to end the conversation.

The man swallowed. "Understood."

"Have the agreement prepared. I want everything settled before she leaves the house. And make sure she comes with everything she needs." Damian closed the folder. "I don't want to hear another excuse from that family."

"Yes, sir."

The call ended. Damian placed the phone on his desk.

He wasn't interested in the girl. He wasn't interested in her family. He was interested in one thing.

His money.

If her father had decided that his daughter was the price of buying more time, Damian had no reason to refuse.

His phone rang again. He glanced at the screen before answering. "What?"

"Sir, there's been a change. The meeting you were supposed to attend has been moved forward. They're expecting you within the hour."

Damian glanced at his watch. He didn't like unexpected changes. "Send Marcus."

"Sir?"

"You heard me. He knows what needs to be done."

"And the girl?"

"Bring her to the house."

"Yes, sir."

Damian ended the call. He had more important things to deal with.

Elena's POV

I had stopped crying hours ago.

At least, that's what I kept telling myself. But the tears wouldn't stop.

I sat on the floor beside my bed, my back pressed against the wall, my knees pulled tightly against my chest. My suitcase was still empty. I couldn't bring myself to pack. Every time I looked at it, I remembered what my father had said.

He's sending a car in the morning.

Morning had come. And I still hadn't figured out how to make this nightmare disappear.

A knock sounded against my door.

"Elena?"

I recognized my mother's voice. I didn't answer.

"Elena, please open the door."

"No." My voice cracked.

There was a pause. "Sweetheart, we have to go."

I shook my head. "No, I'm not going anywhere."

"Elena—"

"I said no!"

My mother tried the handle. Locked.

"Elena, please don't make this harder than it already is."

I laughed bitterly through my tears. "You're telling me not to make this harder? You're the one who wants me to leave with a stranger!"

Silence. Then I heard her sigh. "I'm sorry."

Those two words only made my chest hurt more. I wiped my face and stared at the door.

"Then tell them I'm not going."

"I can't."

My eyes closed. Of course she couldn't. None of them were going to stop this.

Another voice suddenly came from behind her. "Ma'am."

I froze. That wasn't my father's voice.

My mother went quiet. "Who are you?"

"I'm here for Elena."

My stomach dropped. "No." I scrambled to my feet and backed away from the door. "No, no, no…"

"Elena," my mother whispered. "Please."

"Stay away from me!"

The door handle moved. I rushed forward and held it with both hands. "Mom, don't!"

"Elena, open the door."

"No!"

The handle jerked again. My fingers slipped. The door opened.

I stumbled backward as two men stepped into the room. I stared at them through tear-filled eyes. "Get out!"

Neither man moved. The taller one looked at me calmly. "We're leaving."

"I'm not going anywhere!"

I tried to move around him, but he blocked my path.

"Please," my mother said from the doorway. "Elena, just go."

I looked at her. "You're really going to let them do this?"

She couldn't meet my eyes. That was my answer.

I shook my head and stepped backward. "No."

One of the men reached for my arm. I pulled away. "Don't touch me!"

He caught my wrist before I could run past him.

"Let go of me!" I struggled against his grip, tears spilling down my face again. "Stop! I said let go!"

"Enough." His voice remained frighteningly calm.

I looked toward my mother one last time. She was crying now. But she still didn't stop them. And somehow, that hurt more than anything.

They led me out of the room. I kept protesting as we reached the stairs, but there was nowhere left to go.

Outside, a black car waited at the front of the house. The sight of it made everything feel real. I stopped walking.

"No…"

The man opened the back door. I shook my head. "I'm not getting in."

He looked at me for a moment. "You can either get in willingly, or we can make this more difficult."

I stared at the open door. My entire life was on the other side of it. My home. My school. My friends. My old life. And somehow, in just a few minutes, I was supposed to leave all of it behind.

My legs trembled as I finally got into the car. The door closed. I looked through the window. My mother stood on the porch, one hand covering her mouth as she watched me. I wanted her to come after me. I wanted her to stop the car.

She didn't.

The engine started. The house slowly disappeared behind us. I pressed my forehead against the window, watching it become smaller and smaller until it was completely out of sight.

I didn't know where I was going. I didn't know what waited for me there. All I knew was the name my mother had warned me about.

Damian Cross.

And for the first time, I wondered if I should have been more afraid of the man who had agreed to take me…

or of the family that had willingly handed me over.