A Sovereign Debt

"Sign the paper, Lydia. It is the only way your father stays out of prison." My mother pushed the heavy fountain pen toward me. Her hand trembled, but her eyes were cold. She was not looking at me. She was looking at the stack of legal documents that sat between us on the mahogany desk. I looked at the man sitting across from us. Xavier Knight did not move. He did not speak. He sat with his hands folded, watching me like I was a problem he had already solved. "I am selling myself," I said. My voice was flat. It did not sound like my own. "You are saving this family," my mother replied. She finally looked at me. There was no guilt in her expression. There was only a desperate, frantic need to keep her pearls and her reputation. I looked at the contract. The words blurred together. One year. One marriage. No escape. The ink felt like lead as I picked up the pen. I thought about my father. I thought about the bailiffs who had been standing at our front door this morning. They had taken the art from the walls. They had taken the keys to the cars. Now, Xavier Knight was taking the only thing left. I signed my name. The scratch of the nib was the only sound in the room. "It is done," Xavier said. His voice was deep and lacked any warmth. He stood up. He was taller than I expected. He did not offer his hand to my mother. He did not offer a word of comfort to me. He simply tucked the signed document into a leather folder. "The car is waiting," he said. "Your things have already been moved." "I haven't packed," I said. I stood up, my chair scraping against the floor. "I bought you new things," Xavier said. He walked toward the door without looking back. "You won't need anything from your old life." I followed him out of the office. My mother stayed behind. She was already reaching for her phone, probably calling her friends to tell them the crisis was over. She didn't say goodbye. We walked through the lobby of the Knight building. People stopped and stared. They knew who he was. They looked at me with a mix of pity and curiosity. I kept my head down. We stepped into a black sedan. The interior smelled like expensive leather and silence. Xavier sat in the back with me, but he kept a distance. He pulled out a tablet and started working. He acted like I wasn't there. I looked out the window as the city moved past. I thought about my bedroom. I thought about the books on my shelf and the life I had planned. All of it was gone. It had been dismantled in a single month. The car began to climb a steep, winding road. We pulled up to a gate. It opened without a sound. Then I saw it. The house was a jagged cage of glass and steel. It sat on the edge of a cliff. It looked beautiful and terrifying at the same time. The car stopped. A man in a dark suit opened my door. He didn't speak. He didn't even look at me. "Welcome home, Lydia," Xavier said. He stepped out of the car. I stood on the gravel driveway. My legs felt weak. I looked at the front door. It was a massive slab of dark wood with no handle. Xavier walked up to a small panel on the wall. He pressed his thumb against it. The door clicked and swung open. "Inside," he commanded. I walked into the foyer. The floor was white marble. The walls were nothing but glass. I could see the ocean below. I could see the gray sky. There was nowhere to hide. Everything was open. Everything was visible. "Silas will show you to your room," Xavier said. A man appeared from the shadows of the hallway. He was large and moved with a quiet, dangerous grace. This was Silas. He nodded to me but said nothing. "Where are you going?" I asked Xavier. He paused at the foot of the stairs. "I have work to do. You will find the house rules on the tablet in your suite. Read them. Follow them." "And if I don't?" Xavier turned his head. His eyes were dark. "You signed a contract, Lydia. You are collateral. If you fail to play your part, I fail to pay your father's debts. It is a simple transaction." He walked away. I watched him disappear into a room at the end of the hall. I was alone with Silas. "This way," Silas said. We walked up a glass staircase. My footsteps echoed. I felt like an ant under a microscope. Silas opened a door at the end of the gallery. The room was vast. The bed was covered in white silk. One entire wall was made of glass. I realized then that there were no curtains. There were no blinds. "Mr. Knight likes the view," Silas said. "He likes to watch," I corrected. Silas did not argue. He pointed to a small device on the bedside table. "Your rules are there. Dinner is at eight. Do not be late." He walked out and closed the door. I heard a soft electronic beep. I ran to the door and tried the handle. It didn't turn. It was locked from the outside. I was trapped.