CHAPTER FIVE- Between two depts
1511 Words
Elena woke up gasping.
Her lungs burned as if she had been underwater for too long, and for one terrifying second, she didn’t know where she was—or who she was anymore.
The ceiling above her was unfamiliar.
White. Spotless. Framed by thin lines of gold that caught the early morning light filtering through tall glass windows. The air smelled faintly of expensive cologne mixed with something sharp and sterile—clean, controlled, cold. Nothing about this place felt lived in. Nothing felt warm.
The bed beneath her was impossibly soft, too wide, swallowing her small body as though it had been designed to remind her how insignificant she was in this world.
Her world.
Then memory rushed in like a blade slicing through fog.
The contract.
The signatures.
Greg’s cold, emotionless eyes watching her sign her life away without hesitation.
Her chest tightened painfully as she pushed herself upright, silk sheets sliding down her bare arms. Her fingers trembled as they brushed against the unfamiliar fabric, expensive and smooth—nothing like the worn cotton sheets back home.
Home.
The word hurt.
This wasn’t her room. This wasn’t the small apartment she used to share with her father, where cracked walls held memories of laughter, tears, and survival. This was Greg’s penthouse.
His territory.
His rules.
His control.
Last night, after signing away her freedom with a pen that felt heavier than a knife, exhaustion had dragged her into sleep before she could fully process what she had done. She had been too numb to cry, too drained to think.
Now fear clawed its way into her chest, sharp and merciless.
Her father.
Elena’s hand flew to the bedside table where her phone lay. The screen lit up instantly.
Missed calls: 7
Messages: 4
Hospital — Emergency Wing
Her blood turned cold.
“No… no, no…” she whispered hoarsely, clutching the phone as if it might shatter in her hand.
She checked the time and nearly cried out. She was late. Her father’s surgery had been scheduled for early morning. She had promised herself she would be there—to hold his hand, to whisper encouragement, to remind him he wasn’t alone.
She had broken that promise.
As she swung her legs out of bed, her heart racing wildly, another memory surfaced—sharp and deeply unsettling.
Greg’s voice.
Low. Calm. Controlled.
“Phase one is complete.”
She had overheard it last night while half-asleep, his voice drifting through the hallway during a phone call he clearly hadn’t intended her to hear. At the time, she had been too exhausted to question it.
Now, the words echoed relentlessly in her mind.
Phase one of what?
Her stomach twisted painfully. Fear and gratitude tangled inside her chest in a way that made her feel sick. Whatever Greg was planning, whatever game he was playing, one truth remained undeniable—he had paid for her father’s surgery.
Without him, her father would already be dead.
But gratitude didn’t equal trust.
And fear didn’t disappear just because someone saved your life.
Elena grabbed her clothes and rushed out of the bedroom, her bare feet silent against the cold marble floor, her heart pounding louder with every step she took down the hallway.
She nearly collided with Greg.
He stood there as though he had been waiting, dressed in a perfectly tailored dark suit, his phone in one hand, his expression unreadable as ever. Not a single hair was out of place. He looked like a man who had already conquered the day—cold, precise, untouched by chaos or emotion.
“I’m late,” Elena blurted, panic overriding caution. “My father—”
“I know,” Greg interrupted calmly.
That alone made her pause.
He knew.
The realization settled uneasily in her chest.
Without another word, she turned toward the garage entrance, her eyes already locked on one of the sleek black cars parked inside. That car could get her to the hospital in minutes. Minutes mattered.
She reached for the handle.
“Don’t.”
His voice was firm. Final.
Elena froze and turned slowly, disbelief flashing across her face. “What?”
“You’re not taking my car.”
Her heart stuttered painfully. “Greg, my father is in surgery. I don’t have time—”
“You have time to take public transport,” he said coolly, not even raising his voice.
The words hit harder than she expected.
Public transport.
She stared at him, disbelief burning behind her eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” he replied flatly. “This marriage doesn’t give you access to my possessions.”
Shame crawled up her spine like poison.
She swallowed hard. “I’m not asking for your possessions. I just need—”
“You need to remember what this is,” Greg cut in sharply. “A contract. Nothing more.”
Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating.
Elena felt something inside her crack—but she refused to let it show. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.
“Fine,” she said quietly.
She turned away before he could see the tears threatening her eyes and walked out of the penthouse with her head held high, even as humiliation burned through her chest.
She would not beg.
The bus ride to the hospital felt endless.
Strangers surrounded her—people laughing, talking on their phones, living ordinary lives while hers was unraveling piece by piece. She clutched her bag tightly against her chest, her knuckles turning white.
Her mind replayed every moment that had led her here.
Her mother’s death.
Her stepmother’s cruelty.
Her father’s accident.
Alex’s betrayal.
Greg’s contract.
By the time she reached the hospital, her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
She rushed inside, breathless, her eyes scanning desperately for any sign of information. A nurse confirmed her worst fear—the surgery had already begun.
Elena sank into a hard plastic chair in the waiting area, her knees weak.
Minutes dragged by like hours.
The ticking of the clock echoed mercilessly in her head. She clasped her hands together and bowed her head, whispering prayers she hadn’t spoken in years. She prayed not just for her father’s life—but for strength.
Because she didn’t know how much more she could take.
“Lena.”
Her body stiffened.
She looked up slowly.
Alex stood in front of her.
He looked terrible. His hair was messy, his eyes red and hollow, dark circles etched beneath them. Guilt clung to him like a shadow.
“I heard about your dad,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry. I—”
Elena looked away.
“Please,” Alex continued, stepping closer. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But let me explain—”
She didn’t respond.
Not a word.
Her silence hurt him more than any insult ever could.
“I never meant for things to happen that way,” he said desperately. “Your stepsister—”
Elena stood abruptly.
She didn’t scream. She didn’t cry.
She simply walked away.
Alex fell silent, watching her retreating back, realizing too late that he had shattered something that could never be repaired.
When the doctor finally emerged, Elena nearly collapsed from relief.
“The surgery was successful,” he said gently.
Her knees gave out.
Tears streamed down her face as she pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, sobbing quietly. Her father was alive. He was alive.
She rushed toward the room where he was being taken, her heart pounding with gratitude—
Then a nurse stopped her.
“There are remaining bills to settle,” the woman said gently, handing her a document.
Elena stared at the amount.
It was enormous.
Her heart sank again, dread tightening her chest.
Before she could speak, before panic fully claimed her—
“I’ll take care of it.”
Elena turned sharply.
Alex stood there, already handing his card to the nurse.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“For once,” he said quietly, eyes filled with regret, “I want to do something right.”
The payment went through instantly.
Elena felt dizzy.
She hadn’t asked for this.
She didn’t want this.
Yet the debt hung between them, heavy and unavoidable.
Inside the hospital room, her father lay pale but breathing, machines humming softly around him.
“Elena…” he murmured weakly.
She rushed to his side, gripping his hand tightly. “I’m here, Dad. I’m here.”
Tears blurred her vision as relief washed over her.
She didn’t notice Alex standing behind her.
But the tension did not go unnoticed.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket.
She pulled it out slowly.
A message from Greg.
Did you forget who paid first?
Her breath caught.
Elena stared at the screen, her heart pounding violently as the weight of her choices closed in around her.
She was trapped between two men.
Two debts.
And neither would let her go easily.
- Writer
