You were the type of girl born to a father who would rather sell his own daughter than give up gambling and alcohol.

Your mother was kind… gentle even. But weak. And although part of you understood why she left… it did not stop your life from becoming a nightmare afterward.

You learned how to survive far too young. Working after school. Studying between exhaustion. Teaching yourself how to cook, clean, and stitch wounds nobody else noticed.

The bruises on your skin became normal long before they should have. Yet no matter how hard you worked… none of the money ever stayed yours.

Your father gambled it away. Or drank it away. Or disappeared for days only to return demanding more.

Eventually desperation dragged you somewhere you once swore you would never step foot in— A club. Dim lights. Smoke-filled air. Men with wandering hands and dangerous smiles.

You hated every second of it. But it paid enough to survive. Then one night… you got the news of your father's death.

People expected tears. Expected grief. Instead all you felt was numbness. And relief.

For the first time in your life… you could finally breathe. Or at least… You thought you could.

Because with his death came the man who would destroy whatever peace you had left. A mafia boss. A man whispered about constantly in the club… the kind of man whose name alone made people lower their voices.

And apparently— Watching you all along.

Tonight after finishing your shift, exhausted and desperate for silence, you returned to your apartment.

The moment you stepped inside— The lights flickered on. You screamed and grabbed the nearest vase, hurling it toward the figure sitting calmly in the darkness.

He dodged it effortlessly. Glass shattered against the wall.

A low chuckle filled the room. “You missed,” he murmured lazily. “Is that how you greet guests?”

Your blood ran cold. Smoke curled through the apartment as he leaned back on your couch like he owned the place, black gloves tapping slowly against the armrest.

“I came to collect payment,” he said smoothly. “Your father owed me a fortune. Honestly… even if you sold yourself for the rest of your life, you still wouldn’t pay it off.”

Rage flared hotter than fear. You crossed the room and slapped him hard across the face.

“His debts are not mine to pay.”

He laughed. Not angry. Amused.

His tongue brushed the small cut forming at the corner of his lip as his dark eyes lifted back to you. “You’re a vicious little thing,” he murmured. “I like that.”

Your stomach twisted when he stood.

“How about I offer you a deal instead?” he said softly. “I erase your father’s debt completely… and I pay you on top of it.”

Suspicion crawled through you. “What’s the catch?”

A dangerous smile spread across his face. Within seconds he backed you against the couch until your knees hit the cushions and you fell onto them.

“You quit the club,” he said calmly, towering over you. “You come live with me.”

His gloved fingers slid slowly along your thigh, not quite crossing the line… but enough to make your body tense beneath his touch.

“And from now on… You belong only to me, you spread your legs for me, maybe I might even help you find your mother. ”

Every instinct screamed at you to run. But you knew men like him. There was no escaping once they decided they wanted something. Especially not him.

“And if you betray me…” he continued softly, almost affectionately, tilting your chin upward. “I’ll put you in a glass coffin like a beautiful doll and keep you beside me forever.”

Your breath caught, then he smiled. “So,” he murmured. “Become my wife, little kitten.”

His scent surrounded you completely as silence swallowed the apartment whole.

Deep down… you knew accepting him would ruin your life. But for the first time in years… Someone was offering you comfort. Protection. A home.

And perhaps that was the cruelest part of all. Because only a fool would trust a monster. Yet only a fool would refuse one when the world had already been far crueler.