The price of a soul
Chapter 1: The Price of a Soul
The silence in my father’s study was heavier than the three million dollar debt hanging over our heads. I looked at the man sitting across from us. Alexander Knight. They called him "The Beast of Wall Street," and looking at him now, I understood why.
He didn't look like a business man; he looked like a predator waiting for his prey to stop twitching.
"Three million, Mr. Rossi," Alexander’s voice was like velvet over gravel—smooth but dangerous. "Your daughter’s hand in marriage, and the debt is erased. The warehouse fire, the bankruptcy... it all goes away."
My father’s hand shook as he reached for his glass of water. "She’s only twenty-two, Alexander. She has a life. A future."
"She has a debt," Alexander corrected, his dark eyes snapping to mine. They were cold, calculating, and for a second, I felt like I couldn't breathe. "And I am the only one who can pay it."
I stood up, my knees trembling under my cheap thrift-store skirt. "I am not a piece of property, Mr. Knight."
He stood up then, his six-foot-three frame looming over me, smelling of expensive sandalwood and power. He leaned in, his lips inches from my ear. "In my world, Elena, everyone has a price. Yours just happens to be three million dollars."
He slid a gold pen across the mahogany desk. "Sign the contract, or watch your father go to prison for a crime he didn't commit."
I looked at my father’s broken face, then at the man who was about to become my owner. I picked up the pen. My hand didn't shake as I signed my life away.
"Good girl," Alexander whispered, his hand gripping my waist with a possessiveness that made my skin crawl. "Pack your bags. You’re coming home with me tonight."