Chapter 3 : Ill Luck
1073 Words
Angeline stiffened, the weight of her actions finally dawning on her.
She took a step back, then another, before dashing through the tall doors without even looking behind her.
Her heart was in her throat as she ran, expecting his large towering figure to appear right behind her if she so much as glanced back.
She ran faster, her legs moving before her brain could even process the direction.
Then her eyes caught sight of the large gate she had come through—suspiciously wide open.
It would have been logical to stop and think, but Angeline didn’t give a damn about logic. She ran through the gates without slowing down.
Once she reached the main road, she stopped, gasping for breath, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.
She quickly flagged down a cab. It was late into the night, but somehow the road was still bustling with life.
“That will cost seventy dollars,” the driver said gruffly after she told him where she was going.
Angeline’s heart raced even harder—not just because of what had happened, but because her phone and wallet were still in the club.
She was still stuck in her waitress uniform.
She didn’t have the money.
She swallowed hard.
Minutes later, the cab came to an abrupt stop in front of her apartment.
Beads of sweat crowned her forehead. “I… I… please, I don’t have the money, but you can stop by here tomorrow, same time, to get it.”
Shame and fear weighed on her as she begged.
Silence reigned thick in the air for a few seconds, then his words came, barely audible—but she heard them.
“Get out.”
“Th…thank you,” she whispered quickly as she stepped out of the car and watched it drive away.
She couldn’t tell why Lady Luck had decided she was worthy of its presence tonight. Now, if only she could get inside the apartment and get some rest.
She would figure out how to get a new job the following day, and Maria would probably be too tired to stand at the door waiting for her.
She rubbed her clammy hands on her pleated skirt, taking a deep breath.
She pushed the rusty gate open with a creak and stepped toward the house—only to find the front door wide open.
She froze.
Had those men tracked her down here? Was it someone from the club? But she had made sure none of them knew where she lived.
Panic gripped her. And while dashing away would have been the safest thing to do, she was worried for her family.
They shouldn’t be dragged into this mess. Not because of her.
Angeline took a deep breath and stepped forward, one cautious step after another, until she entered the apartment.
However, it wasn’t the two men from the club. Neither was it anyone from Westend.
Two buff men stood on either side of her stepmother and her father, who were seated on the floor.
The house looked like it had been torn apart.
Her father was trembling violently, while Maria looked shaken—her face swollen like she had been beaten.
“This must be your daughter,” one of the men said, his eyes falling on her. “Glad we can finally wrap this up.”
Angeline’s brows furrowed in confusion as her gaze landed on her parents.
“Who…who are these people?”
Maria slowly got up, her eyes locking with Angeline’s, but before she could speak—
“Give us the money, damn it!” one of the men flared. “Keeping us here all night like we ain’t got s**t to do.”
Angeline stared at Maria in confusion.
“What…what money, Mother?”
“Your parents have been borrowing money for the last three years,” the man explained. “Five hundred thousand euros in total. Your father, Harold, said he planned to invest it in some business, and when it blew up, he’d pay us double. It’s been three damn years, and we’re sick of waiting.”
They were loan sharks.
Angeline paled at the revelation. They had never once deemed it important enough to tell her about this.
“Angeline,” Maria called sharply. “Give them the money.”
Angeline turned cold.
She didn’t have a dime on her. Her wallet and phone were gone, and even if they weren’t, there was no way she could have that much money.
“I don’t have the money,” Angeline said, gripping the edge of her skirt.
The weight of their stares grew heavier.
“Angeline, just give them the money,” her father snapped at her.
Her heart squeezed painfully. They had thrown her into the fire without even a second thought.
“I don’t have any money on me,” she gritted out.
Now that she thought about it, she was sure he must have gambled it away, and now he was depending on her to pay it back.
She dug her nails into her palm, her eyes burning with tears.
“Perhaps we can work out an agreement,” she forced out. “Maybe I can—”
“You can take her,” Maria cut her off sharply.
Angeline froze.
“W…what?”
“You can take her,” Maria repeated, turning to the loan sharks. “Sell her to the slave establishment and get your money back.”
Angeline turned to her father, but he wasn’t even looking at her.
Her head swayed, her eyes prickling.
“No…” she whispered. “You’re…selling me off?”
The silence from them was the answer slapping her right in the face.
“Why not?” Maria spat. “You have the money, and you intentionally choose to be wicked and refuse to pay the debts. Your father and I would be better off without a wretched daughter like you.”
The weight of betrayal almost crumpled Angeline to her knees.
She swallowed hard, her eyes darting to the door.
Her legs moved.
But she wasn’t fast enough.
The loan sharks caught up to her easily.
They grabbed her and dragged her outside, forcefully shoving her into a black SUV.
Her screams came out muffled as someone gagged her.
Then she felt something heavy crash down on her head.
Her vision blurred.
Her eyelids fluttered shut as she gave in to darkness.
- Writer
