The Billionaire’s Gilded Debt

Chapter 17

She got to her feet. I held The Princess Knight to my chest for an instant, feeling the embossed gold letters bite into my palm. I reluctantly left the book on the shelf.

We hurried through the deserted, twisting corridors. Our footsteps were a light patter against the stone. As we neared the dining wing, roasted rosemary and dark, rich wine wafted toward us. This should have been comforting but here it only meant that the Master was hungry and a hungry Elias was a dangerous Elias.

Lina was a storm of silver hair and sharp orders in the kitchen. She was placing a heavy silver cloche over a plate with her face set in an intense frown of concentration. "Clara!" she shouted without looking up. Steam from the stove curled around her like dragon's breath. "Stop standing there like some fancy statue! The Master is in his private suite. Go! Tell him dinner is ready!"

I froze; my heart suddenly thudding violently against my ribs. "Me? But why not Marcus? Or Tina?"

Lina finally turned to me, her piercing gaze softening for just an instant before sharpening again. "Tina is busy scrubbing the spite off the silver, and Marcus is with security detail. You are personal maid, child; you know what to do! No choice for me or you—now go!"

Daisy gave my shoulder a quick pat of support before rushing off to get a stack of crystal glasses. "You’ll be fine," she said, but there was doubt in her eyes.

I moved towards the grand staircase with legs that felt as if they were made from wax left out to cool on a summer day. Each step I took upward felt like one more step closer to walking toward the gallows. Finally reaching those towering mahogany doors that led into Elias’s private suite—the sanctuary I had been told never to enter without a direct summons.

I knocked. Once. Twice. The sound was swallowed by the thick wood. No answer.

"Mr. Thomas?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

Silence.

I noticed the door wasn't fully latched; a sliver of darkness peeked through the gap. My instructions were clear: get the Master. If I failed, Lina would be furious, and Elias’s temper was far worse than hers. Taking a shallow breath, I pushed the door open.

The room was vast, filled with shadows and the faint scent of cedar and rain. Elias was sprawled on the massive bed, still wearing his dress shirt, the top buttons undone. But he wasn't resting. His head was thrashing against the silk pillows, his jaw locked so tight the muscles in his neck stood out like cords. A low, pained groan escaped his lips—a sound so raw and broken it didn't seem to belong to the man who had ordered Julian’s end.

He was having a nightmare.

For a moment, the fear left me, replaced by a sudden, stabbing pang of pity. He looked... human. Vulnerable. I moved closer, my footsteps silent on the thick carpet. I wanted to help. I thought of how I used to hold Lucas when he had terrors about the debt collectors. I reached out, my hand hovering over his, intending to just touch his fingers, to tether him back to the world.

thud. I didn't even have time to scream. I had barely registered the figure of the man on the bed, so lost in my pity, when it seemed like a great storm had rushed into the room. In an instant, he was on his feet, out of bed, and in my space with such speed it was like watching a flash of lightning. He didn't just wake up; he was awake and alive and ready to kill. Before a sound could leave my mouth, his hand was around my arm, yanking me sideways with a force that threatened to break every bone in my body.

Suddenly, everything changed. I was flying through the air, my body spinning out of control. It felt like being tossed by a giant's hand as I crashed against the thick glass of the window. My scream finally broke free but was cut short by pain as the glass shuddered under the impact.

A white-hot pain exploded at the back of my head. For an instant, everything turned gray. I felt something warm and wet trickling down my neck, soaking into the collar of the expensive charcoal dress. “Who gave you the right to enter my room?”

Elias POV

Elias’s chest burned, still filled with the remembered air of his dream. He stood over the broken thing hunched by the window, shadows swimming in his eyes. Then he smelled blood. His predatory snarl did not die, but it flickered. He saw the bright red spreading out from her charcoal shoulder, a wet jagged stain on the silk, and for a moment the beast looked down. His pupils shrank as he watched her fingers come away slick and stained. A sharp twitch jumped in his jaw not from rage but as an awful recognition of his own brutality. He stepped half forward; his hand moved as if to reach for her. But when she looked up at him through glassy terrified eyes, the guilt curdled into hot defensive anger. He could not look at the blood. If he saw it there would be no escaping what she saw in his reflection.

Clara Pov

Elias’s voice didn’t just thunder; it shook the floorboards. He was standing by the bed, his chest rising and falling, eyes wide with a dark primal rage, looking like a beast dragged from the depths of hell. I sank against the wall as my fingers reached for the back of my head—when I pulled them away, they were slick with bright crimson blood. There was so much blood! It began to drip onto my dress—dark stains spreading like ink across gray fabric. “I… Lina sent me…” I managed through pain that clouded my vision. “Get out!” he barked, jabbing a trembling finger toward the door. “Get out before I lose what little patience I have left!”

Tears pressed hot and stinging behind my eyes but I would not let them fall in front of him; he would not have that satisfaction. I forced myself to stand even though every heartbeat made my head throb. Not another word did I say; I turned and stumbled from the room with a bloody ruined dress clinging to my skin and the sharp metallic scent of my own injury filling my nose down a hall as an injured girl.