The Debt That Made Me His

Episode Eleven

Blood on the Marble Floor

The letter slipped from Amara's fingers.

"Marta?"

Adrian nodded grimly.

"Come on."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and hurried down the hallway.

Amara followed.

Her heart hammered against her ribs.

The estate that had felt quiet and secure only minutes ago was now filled with chaos.

Guards rushed through the corridors.

Voices echoed from every direction.

The atmosphere was thick with tension.

Something terrible had happened.

By the time Amara reached the grand foyer, a crowd had already gathered.

Then she saw the blood.

A dark crimson stain spread across the white marble floor.

Her stomach lurched.

Marta lay nearby, surrounded by security personnel and a medic.

For a terrifying second, Amara thought she was dead.

Then she saw the older woman's chest rise.

Relief flooded through her.

She was alive.

Barely.

Lucien knelt beside her.

His usually controlled expression had vanished.

The fear in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Marta."

His voice was low.

Urgent.

The woman blinked weakly.

Her face had gone pale.

A deep cut stretched across her shoulder.

Blood soaked through her dress.

"I'm alright," she whispered.

The lie was obvious.

"No, you're not."

Marta managed a faint smile.

"Still bossy."

Lucien looked away briefly.

As though he couldn't bear to see her injured.

Amara had never seen him like this.

Never seen him care so openly.

It made her realize how much Marta truly meant to him.

The medic finished applying pressure to the wound.

"We need to move her now."

Lucien nodded.

As the team carefully lifted Marta onto a stretcher, her hand shot out.

Grabbing Lucien's sleeve.

"Wait."

Everyone froze.

Marta's eyes searched the crowd.

Then settled on Lucien.

Fear filled them.

Real fear.

"I saw him."

The room instantly fell silent.

Lucien leaned closer.

"Who?"

Marta swallowed painfully.

"The man who attacked me."

Every guard in the room became alert.

"What did he look like?" Lucien asked.

Marta shook her head.

"He wore a mask."

The tension in the room remained.

Then Marta said something that changed everything.

"But I recognized his voice."

Amara felt a chill crawl down her spine.

Lucien's expression hardened.

"Whose voice?"

Marta hesitated.

As if she didn't want to say it.

As if she wished she were wrong.

Then she spoke.

"It's someone from the estate."

A murmur spread through the room.

Lucien's jaw clenched.

"Who?"

Marta opened her mouth.

But before she could answer, her eyes rolled back.

The medic immediately stepped forward.

"That's enough."

They rushed her away.

Leaving everyone standing in stunned silence.

The name.

She hadn't said the name.

The one thing they desperately needed.

And now it was gone.

At least for the moment.

Lucien stood slowly.

Danger radiated from him.

Pure danger.

"Nobody leaves this estate."

His voice carried through the foyer.

"Until I know who did this."

No one argued.

No one dared.

Because everyone understood what was at stake.

The traitor had gone from spying to attempted murder.

The game had changed.

And it was becoming deadly.

An hour later, Amara sat alone in her room.

The unfinished letter lay on the bed beside her.

She stared at it.

Trying to focus.

Trying to ignore the chaos outside.

Finally, she picked it up and continued reading.

The danger surrounding you did not begin with Marco Rossi.

It began long before him.

There are truths about your past that were hidden to protect you.

Amara's pulse quickened.

She read faster.

If Nikolai ever finds you, he will tell you many lies.

Some will sound like the truth.

Some may even contain pieces of it.

A knot formed in her stomach.

She turned the page.

Then froze.

The next sentence stole her breath.

Marco Rossi is not your biological father.

The room went silent.

Completely silent.

Amara stared at the words.

Certain she had read them wrong.

She blinked.

Read them again.

And again.

The sentence never changed.

Marco Rossi is not your biological father.

"No..."

Her voice cracked.

This couldn't be real.

It couldn't.

Her entire life had been built around one truth.

Now that truth was crumbling.

Her hands trembled as she continued reading.

But before she could reach the next line, the bedroom door burst open.

Lucien entered.

For once, he didn't knock.

He didn't even seem to notice her shock.

His attention was fixed entirely on the phone in his hand.

Something was very wrong.

"What happened?" she asked.

Lucien looked up.

His expression was colder than she'd ever seen.

"The traitor just sent a message."

Fear twisted inside her.

"What message?"

Without a word, he handed her the phone.

Amara looked at the screen.

A photograph filled the display.

The moment she saw it, her blood turned to ice.

It was a picture of her.

Taken tonight.

Inside the estate.

Inside the hidden room.

Reading her mother's letter.

Someone had been watching her.

Again.

Beneath the photograph was a single message.

You're finally learning the truth.

Ask Lucien who your real father is.

Amara slowly lowered the phone.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

The letter.

The photograph.

The message.

Everything pointed to the same terrifying question.

She looked up at Lucien.

His face had gone completely still.

And suddenly she knew.

He already knew the answer.

"Lucien."

Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

"Who is my father?"

The silence that followed was answer enough.