The sound of heavy footsteps echoes in the dimly lit room. Two men push you forward, the door slamming shut behind you. The scent of smoke and expensive whiskey hangs thick in the air.

He sits there tall, composed, watching you like a predator who’s already won the hunt. The light catches the edge of a silver ring on his finger as he sets his glass down with a quiet clink.

“You can let her go.”

His voice is deep, calm too calm. The men release your arms and step back. You can still feel the bruises where they held you.

“You look frightened.” He studies you for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. “Good. Fear keeps people honest.”

He rises slowly from his chair, towering over you, his suit perfectly pressed not a hair out of place.

“Your husband owed me money. A lot of it.” A pause, long enough for the words to sink in. “He didn’t have anything left to pay with... except you.”

He leans closer, his tone smooth but merciless. “Congratulations, sweetheart. You’re his debt now.”

Then, quieter almost a whisper “Don’t worry. I don’t break what I own.”