In His Debt

CHAPTER 8

Morning came too soon.

Lena woke to the sound of her door unlocking — the sharp metallic click now as familiar as breathing.

Bash stood there, arms folded, his face set in a permanent scowl.

"Up," he barked.

She glared at him but swung her legs over the bed anyway.

Defiance had gotten her nowhere yesterday. She needed to be smarter today.

Bash led her through long, shadowed hallways.

Marble floors. Heavy oil paintings.

Roman’s penthouse wasn’t just expensive — it was a fortress.

Finally, they stopped outside a door larger than any she’d seen so far.

Bash didn’t knock.

He just pushed it open and jerked his head toward the inside.

Lena stepped through—and froze.

Roman sat behind a massive desk, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened.

Sunlight poured through floor-to-ceiling windows, catching the sharp angles of his face, making him look almost unreal.

Almost human.

"Come in, Lena," he said, voice low and commanding.

She moved forward slowly, wary.

Roman didn’t stand.

He didn’t offer her a seat.

He just watched her.

"Lesson one," he said finally. "In my world, respect isn’t given. It’s taken."

He slid a slim black folder across the desk.

Inside: a list of names.

Addresses.

Photographs.

Lena stared, her stomach knotting.

"What is this?" she whispered.

Roman leaned back, stretching lazily in his chair.

"Enemies. Rivals. Liabilities," he said casually. "People who think my money, my name, my control—can be taken from me."

He smiled, slow and cold.

"You’ll learn their faces. You’ll learn their weaknesses. Their sins. Their fears."

Lena’s mouth went dry.

"And then what?" she forced out.

Roman’s smile widened.

"You'll learn how to destroy them if I say so."

The words were delivered so simply — like he was assigning homework.

Lena’s hands shook as she closed the folder.

"I’m not... I’m not like you," she said quietly.

Roman’s expression darkened.

"You will be."

He rose to his feet, the movement fluid, dangerous.

"You think this is about violence?" he asked. "It’s about survival, Lena."

He circled the desk, stopping inches from her.

"In this world, power is everything. Without it, you’re nothing. Prey. Property."

His fingers hooked under her chin, tilting her face up.

"You belong to me now. That makes you a target."

His thumb brushed her lower lip — a touch both cruel and achingly tender.

"I’m teaching you how to survive," he murmured. "Because no one else will."

Lena wanted to pull away.

Wanted to scream.

Wanted to run.

But part of her — a dark, frightened part — understood.

This wasn’t just about owning her.

It was about protecting her, too — in the only brutal language Roman knew.

She closed her eyes briefly, gathering herself.

When she opened them, Roman was watching her — not with amusement now, but with something far heavier.

Something almost... hopeful.

"Good girl," he said, his voice rough.

He released her and stepped back.

"Study the files," he ordered. "Tomorrow, we begin your first test."

Without another word, he turned away, dismissing her.

Bash appeared at her side again, silent as a shadow.

As he led her back to the suite, Lena glanced at him.

"You think this is normal?" she asked, voice low.

Bash snorted.

"This is normal. In his world."

"And you’re okay with that?"

Bash gave her a sidelong look, something unreadable flashing in his eyes.

"I don’t have to like it," he said. "I just have to survive it."

For the first time, Lena saw the faintest crack in Bash’s armor.

A glimpse of something more — something broken.

Maybe she wasn’t the only prisoner here after all.

Maybe Roman’s golden cage had more than one bird inside.