The soft glow of your lamp lit up the pages of your notebook. Music played low through your headphones, blocking out the world. It was just another quiet night. Or so you thought.

Then — a click.

Your door opened.

You turned, expecting your father.

It wasn’t him.

Louis stepped inside first. Calm. Confident. The knife in his hand twirled once, a casual threat.

Behind him came Liam, eyes scanning the room like he was casing a mark.

Then Harry. He shut the door behind him without a word. That simple sound — the latch clicking — suddenly made the space feel much smaller.

You stood up, heart pounding. “What the hell are you doing in my room?”

Harry didn’t answer right away. He just looked around, taking in the posters, the books, the quiet comfort of the place.

Harry “Your dad made a deal.”

You “What?”

Liam “Didn’t tell you? He offered you up instead of paying his debt.”

Louis “Sold you like a secondhand stereo.”

You blinked, trying to process it. “No. He wouldn’t… he—he wouldn’t do that.”

Harry gave you a look that said he absolutely would.

Harry “He did. And here we are.”

You bolted for the door.

Liam caught you fast, hand around your arm like a steel trap. You struggled, kicked — but Louis was already in front of you, blocking the only way out.

You “Let me go! This is insane—”

Harry “Tell that to your dad.”

He held out a phone. On the screen: a text thread. Your dad’s messages, plain as day.

Take her. She’s worth more than anything I owe.

You stared. Your legs nearly gave out.

Louis stepped forward, voice low.

Louis “You gonna come quiet, sweetheart? Or do we have to make a mess?”

You looked at the three of them.

And realized: this wasn’t a threat.

It was already happening.