The Billionaire’s Gilded Debt

Chapter 6

The drive to the outskirts of the city was a blur of neon fading into the deep, oppressive shadows of the hills. Elias sat beside me, a silent monolith of power, He didn’t speak,but his presence seemed to take up all the oxygen in the car, cordoning off the very air I breathed.

I stared at the back of the driver's head, my mind racing, Had I just signed away my soul? The question hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Was this a mistake

The car began to climb, the air thinning as we ascended into the exclusive heights of the Hollywood Hills. Then, the gates appeared. Massive, wrought-iron structures intricately designed to look like frozen vines, they swung open silently to reveal Aethelgard.

The name was etched in silver script across the arched stone entrance. The mansion was a sprawling masterpiece of Gothic stone and modern glass, perched on the cliffside like a hawk watching the world below. It was beautiful, unique, and utterly terrifying.

The car came to an halt, and the door was opened by a man I recognized immediately—Arthur

As Elias stepped out of the car, the heavy doors of the mansion swung open, a line of staff stood in perfect formation. Their heads bowed in a synchronized wave

"Welcome home, Mr. Thomas," they intoned as Elias stepped onto the marble floor. He didn't offer them a glance.

"Marcus," Elias said, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. A tall, silver-haired man with a posture like a sharpened blade stepped forward. "This is Clara. She is my new personal maid. She reports directly to me. Ensure she understands the layout of Aethelgard immediately."

Elias didn't say goodbye. He simply vanished up the grand staircase.

Marcus, the butler, turned to me with eyes that were kind but guarded. "Follow me, Miss Clara. The staff are waiting."

He led me to the expansive, sun-drenched kitchen and service wing. Five women stood there, watching me with varying degrees of curiosity.

He gestured to a tiny, elderly woman with sharp, intelligent eyes and silver hair pulled into a tight bun. She looked Korean, her face a map of wisdom and discipline. "I am Lina," her voice surprisingly strong. She looked me up and down, her gaze softening just a fraction.she said, "I am the chef. You look like you haven't eaten a real meal in weeks, child. Come to me when the master is busy."My kitchen is my temple. Do not defile it with clutter."

Next to her stood a girl who looked barely twenty, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright with a warmth that felt out of place here. "I’m Daisy! I look after the gardens," she chirped, giving me a small, joyful wave. "If the walls get too tight, come find me in the rose quartz path." The flower don’t gossip

Then, the air seemed to chill. A girl with sharp features and a sour twist to her lips stepped forward. "I'm Tina," she said shortly. She didn't offer a hand or a smile. "Hi." Her eyes raked over my dress with a look of pure venom.

Kaya and Kate: Two girls standing behind Tina. They were the house cleaners and, it seemed, Tina's shadow. They murmured a greeting but quickly looked away, sensing the tension.

"Kaya and Kate handle the grounds. Tina is the senior parlor maid," Marcus explained firmly.

"Now, Clara, I will show you to your quarters."

Whispers in the Hallway

As I followed Marcus away, I didn't have to strain to hear the voices rising behind me.

"Personal maid?" Tina’s voice hissed, loud enough to pierce the silence. "Look at that dress. She’s a charity case. He probably found her on the street and felt pity. She won't last a week in Aethelgard."

"She looks like she thinks she’s the lady of the house," Kaya whispered back.

"She’s nothing," Tina spat. "I've been here three years. I know what the Master likes, and it isn't a broken-down heiress."

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My room was beautiful—far better than the bus seats I’d grown used to—but it felt like a cell. Once Marcus left, I collapsed onto the bed. I pulled my phone from my pocket, my heart racing.

First, I called Lucas.

He picked up on the second ring."Hey, bug," I whispered, fighting the lump in my throat. "Clara? It’s nearly midnight, is everything okay?" His voice sounded young, filtered through the static of a cheap dorm-room connection. "Everything is better than okay, Lu," I lied, forcing a lightness into my chest that didn't exist. "I got a new job. A big one. It’s a live-in position at a big estate. I’ve already moved in.

"Wait, seriously? That fast?" I could hear him sitting up in bed. "What about the tuition? The bursar’s office was breathing down my neck today."

"I will handle it. All of it. The first installment will be in their system tomorrow. You don't have to worry about the bills anymore, Lucas. Just study. Promise me?"

"I promise, but... Clara, are you sure you're okay? You sound... different. Brittle."

I smiled sometimes I wonder how old his my little brother, "I’m just tired, Lu. It’s a big house. I’ll call you in a few days. I love you." I hung up before he could hear my voice crack. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a cold hand.

Next, I called Maya. She didn't even wait for a greeting.

"Where are you? You told me to cover up your shift and you will tell me everything single thing that happened! Clara, tell me you didn't do something stupid."

I’m working for Elias Thomas now."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "Elias Thomas? Clara, that man is a ghost story. People don't 'work' for him, they disappear into his orbit. Is this about your father’s debt?"

"It’s the only way," I whispered, hot tears finally pricking my eyes. "He’s wiping the slate clean. Lucas stays in school. Dad stays in the care facility. I'm fine, Maya. It’s just... cleaning and personal assistance. I’m safe."

"You’re a terrible liar," Maya said, her voice softening with pity. "But I know you. You’d set yourself on fire to keep those two warm. Just... keep your head down. If you don't call me every forty-eight hours, I’m calling the police, mansion or no mansion."

"I'll call. I have to go now."

I clicked the phone off and curled into a ball. I let my mind drift to the only memory that brought me peace—my mother. I remembered her tucking me in, the smell of lavender on her skin, telling me that a Thorne never bows their head unless it’s to put on a crown. Sorry, Mom, I thought. I'm bowing just to survive.

I drifted into a heavy, dreamless sleep