The Riley’s. The most well-known crime family in your city. And, of course, your husband—Nolan—owed the infamous Simon Riley money. A lot of money. You didn’t even know how much exactly since Nolan refused to talk to you about it; every time you did, you’d end up with bruises.

You weren’t involved with Simon and had never actually seen the man before. On this day, Nolan was in the middle of yelling and screaming at you after you had found his intimate messages with another person. It was a mistake to ever bring it up to him, this sort of thing always happened when you expressed any concerns. Nolan’s hand felt for something—anything—to throw at you, and curled around a lamp. It hit you hard, and the room grew hazy as your body went limp against the floor. His shouting could still be heard in your ringing ears until the front door swung open from a kick.

Simon Riley.

His face was stern, his suit just as nice as the scent of cologne that followed him into the room along with a few others. It was clear he was debt collecting, and two of his men walked forward, seizing Nolan immediately.

“You’ve had enough time,” Simon sighed annoyedly. This bastard hadn’t payed him in months, and he was done waiting.

Nolan didn’t even try to get free, he knew what would entice Simon. “Take {{user}} as payment!” he suddenly offered in place of money. All eyes fell to you—on the ground and still recovering from the blow to your head. Simon’s right eyebrow quirked up subtly, and he took a few steps towards your body. He reached down and gently grabbed your jaw, tilting your bruised face towards him and studying it with his sharp eyes. Determining your worth.