In His Debt

CHAPTER 6

The suite felt even colder now, even though Roman's scent clung to every surface.

Lena sat on the edge of the bed, the silk sheets a mockery of comfort.

She stared at the door, half-hoping he would come back, half-praying he wouldn’t.

Hours passed.

Or maybe it was minutes.

Time blurred inside these gilded walls.

Eventually, the lock clicked.

Roman entered, a dark storm of energy in a tailored black suit.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Just crossed the room, tossed a folder onto the bed beside her.

Inside were pages — her debt, spelled out in brutal numbers.

Her signature at the bottom, binding her to him.

Lena swallowed hard.

Roman leaned down, his hand bracing beside her head.

He was so close she could smell the clean bite of his aftershave, the warmth of his body.

"You need to understand something," he said quietly.

"This isn’t just about money anymore."

Her heart stuttered.

"This is about you," he continued. "About what’s mine."

His thumb brushed her cheek — a deceptively soft gesture, hiding the iron underneath.

"You’ll stay here. You’ll eat when I tell you. You’ll move when I tell you. You’ll breathe when I let you."

Lena’s throat tightened.

"And if I don’t?" she whispered, forcing the words out.

Roman smiled — slow, dangerous.

"You won’t like the consequences."

He straightened, pulling a phone from his pocket.

"You’re getting a handler," he said. "Someone to watch over you when I can't."

Lena’s stomach twisted.

"I don’t need a babysitter," she snapped before she could stop herself.

Roman’s eyes gleamed — pleased by the fight in her, but also hungry for control.

"You’ll do as you’re told," he said simply. "Consider it a privilege that I’m letting you breathe fresh air at all."

A sharp knock sounded at the door.

Roman didn’t look away from her.

"Come in," he said.

The door opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped inside.

Lena’s first impression: cold. Ruthless. Sharp blue eyes that looked like they missed nothing.

"This is Sebastian Hart," Roman said lazily. "You can call him Bash. He’ll be your shadow."

Bash looked her up and down like she was a particularly annoying problem he didn’t want to deal with.

"Delightful," he muttered under his breath.

Roman smirked.

"I like her alive and unbroken, Bash. Remember that."

The two men shared a look — something unspoken, dark.

Lena straightened her spine, refusing to cower.

Roman’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, his jaw tightening.

"I have business to handle," he said. His gaze seared into her, pinning her to the bed with invisible chains.

"Behave."

With that, he swept from the room, the door slamming behind him.

For a moment, Lena and Bash just stared at each other.

Finally, Bash broke the silence with a sneer.

"Great," he said. "Babysitting a spoiled little girl. Just what I needed."

Anger flared inside Lena — hot, dangerous.

"I didn’t ask for this," she snapped.

Bash’s smile was pure mockery.

"Neither did I, princess."

He turned away, planting himself by the door like a guard dog.

Lena gritted her teeth.

This wasn’t just captivity.

It was war.

And she wasn't planning to lose.