The contract

Britney could only weep as the banging on her door grew louder and more intense. Her heart pounded with fear. The sound echoed through the small apartment. "AMBER!" "I know you're in there—open up!" the voice shouted. Britney whimpered. The loan shark wouldn't leave unless she opened the door, or they broke it down. Money. It was the root of all evil. And right now, it is her biggest problem. After a few tense minutes, the noise suddenly stopped. A brown envelope was slipped under the door and shoved into her room. Britney hesitated, then quietly stepped forward. She picked up the envelope with trembling hands. "We’ll be back next week." "If you don’t have the money by then, Amber..."...I’m going to break every bone in your body." Her body froze. "Three million dollars?!" she gasped. There was no way she could pay that back. Her father had only taken a loan of one million dollars. How on earth did it rise to three million? She wept, regretting that her father had died in the first place. "How could you leave me in this cruel world?" Britney cried. Flashback The phone on the table lit up and vibrated. She picked it up. "Hello? Who am I speaking with?" "Is this Britney Amber?" a voice asked. "Yes," she replied. I’m calling to inform you that a patient was rushed into the hospital a few minutes ago. Your attention is needed immediately." Britney was rushed to the hospital. But by the time she arrived, her father was already dead. Her world crumbled as the news hit her. She wept bitterly as she watched her father's lifeless body being lowered to the ground. He was the only family she had left. Now, she was completely alone. Two months after her father’s death Knock. Knock. "Who’s there?" she asked, opening the door. A strange man stood in front of her. "Is this Britney Amber?" he asked, stepping inside. "Yes! "What can I offer you?" she responded politely. "Nothing much," the man said. "I’m here for my money." "What?!" Britney exclaimed. "What money?" "Oh, your father didn’t tell you? He borrowed money from me and used his café as collateral." "No," she replied, confused and innocent. "Well, now you know," he said coldly. "Either you pay me back, or I take the café." Britney, not wanting to lose the café, nodded. "I'll pay you back," she promised. "You have six months," the man declared. "Huh?" Britney said, wiping her tears. "I’ll be back for my money in six months." She stood in shock, realizing there was no way she could gather that much in such little time. End of flashback. Britney entered her bedroom, grabbed the phone from her bed, and dialled the only person she trusted. “Hello? "Britney?” a familiar voice answered. She let out a relieved sigh as she heard Anny’s voice. “Anny, they’re saying I owe three million. "What am I going to do?” she cried, gripping a crumpled piece of paper. “Woah, Britney, slow down—three million?” Anny exclaimed loudly. “You need to go to the police. This is getting way out of hand. You’re being threatened, and they need to know.” Tears streamed down Britney’s face, and she didn’t bother wiping them away. “I already did, but they wouldn’t help me,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “I’ve screwed up, Anny. My father shouldn’t have borrowed that money in the first place.” “I might have an idea… but it’s a long shot,” Anny said hesitantly. “What?” Britney asked quickly. At this point, she was desperate—she’d do anything. “I have a friend who once knew someone in your situation,” Anny continued. “She went to this guy, and he gave her the money. All she had to do was one thing—whatever he asked, she had to do it. And she did.” Britney tapped her foot nervously. “What did she do?” “I don’t know. The girl never said anything,” Anny replied. Britney exhaled sharply. “Okay. What’s his name?” she asked, her voice heavy with resignation. Her pride was gone; she had no other options left. “Easton Knight,” Anny said. “Thanks, Anny,” Britney replied. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Seriously… you’re my guardian angel.” “I’ll text you his number and address,” Anny said. Moments later, Britney received the details. As she reread the name, her stomach churned with anxiety. Opening Google, she typed: Easton Knight. His name popped up, and she clicked on his Wikipedia page. “Easton Knight,” it read, “is a handsome, young billionaire with a net worth beyond anything Britney could imagine.” For someone so young, he had risen to the top in an incredibly short time. He was listed as one of London’s wealthiest and most eligible bachelors. A powerful CEO, he owned the KNIT EMPIRES and ran DEMARK, one of the finest lounges in the city. Britney stood at a crossroads, completely cornered. She had no other choice but to go back home empty-handed or take a chance on Easton Knight. She wasn’t ready to lose her family’s business. Her final move was clear now—Easton Knight.