Chapter 5
“Johanna Lucerne?”
They had closed the distance, now standing only a few feet away. The largest of the men in black suits spoke her name, his voice flat and businesslike.
Johanna pulled Daniel closer to her side and swallowed hard. “Yes, that’s me…”
As she spoke, she saw her aunt’s family slinking out of the chapel, using the confrontation as a cover to escape. They were abandoning the issue of the debt—and her—to flee from these men.
Johanna knew little of the financial world, and even less about its shadowy underbelly. But she was perceptive. The terror on her relatives’ faces told her everything she needed to know. These men—or more precisely, the man observing from the back—was someone truly powerful.
“Two months ago, your father borrowed money from us,” the large man stated. “He named you as his guarantor.”
“…Ha.”
She knew it. A dark premonition had washed over her the moment they’d walked in, a feeling she had desperately tried to suppress. Surely not. Father wouldn’t be that reckless. But he had been. He’d actually taken money from loan sharks.
A laugh, empty and devoid of humor, escaped her lips. The man’s brow twitched in annoyance, as if he thought she’d lost her mind. Just as her aunt had, he presented a contract bearing her thumbprint.
“The loan was for one hundred thousand Rubels. The monthly interest is nine hundred Rubels. You’re currently one month behind,” he recited mechanically. “The repayment date is January twentieth of next year, though we can grant you a ten-day extension. If you fail to repay the full amount by then…”
The man’s indifferent gaze raked over her, from head to toe, like a merchant assessing goods for sale. The merciless appraisal stole the air from her lungs.
“You’ll have to repay it with your body.”
“With my body…?” she gasped. “What does that mean?”
She had lived her entire life in poverty, but she had never been treated like an object. Humiliation and fear clawed at her throat.
“It means…”
Before the large man could finish, the one with the languid eyes stepped forward. He moved with a slow, deliberate saunter that was unnervingly like that of a big cat. The moment he moved, his subordinates parted for him, the large man bowing so low it was an overt display of submission. The others followed suit, a silent testament to the man’s authority.
He stopped just a step before Johanna, looking down at her as he took a final, long drag from his cigarette. Cruel amusement danced in his silver-gray eyes. Johanna forced herself to stand tall, refusing to look away.
He exhaled the smoke in a sigh, the gray cloud momentarily obscuring his face. His hair, swept back from his forehead, was the exact same shade of silver-gray. The acrid smoke stung Johanna’s eyes, and she let out a small cough.
A faint smirk touched the corner of his lips. He casually dropped the cigarette to the floor and crushed the glowing ember under the heel of his polished shoe. It was a flagrantly disrespectful act in a church, yet he showed no hesitation. There was no one here who would dare to challenge him.
His gaze remained fixed on her, a soft smile playing on his lips. “What it means to pay with your body,” he began, his voice smooth and low, “is that we run a few establishments. Places where pretty young things who can’t pay their debts pour drinks and sell their smiles.”
Her worst fear, now given voice. Johanna’s face went white, and she bit down hard on her lower lip. Her heart hammered against her ribs, the blood in her veins turning to ice. She wanted to scream that it was illegal, but the words wouldn’t come. The man’s smile was a mask, and beneath it was a crushing pressure that was strangling her.
“Don’t worry,” he added, his tone light, as if discussing the weather. “A face like yours will bring in plenty of customers. Work for a year or two, and the debt will be cleared.”
She was utterly powerless. She knew, with a sickening certainty, that arguing would be useless. Protesting that she never signed, that the debt wasn’t hers—this man wouldn’t listen. A man like him, who operated in the shadows, didn’t abide by laws or common sense.
“But you…”
He leaned in suddenly, his face dipping toward the nape of her neck. Johanna flinched, her body going rigid. His voice, now a sensual whisper, ghosted over her skin.
“…are a Beta, they said? I don’t smell a thing.”
Her breath hitched. The moment she snapped back to her senses and tried to shove him away, a small body shot past her.
“Get away from my sister!”
Daniel slammed into the man with all his might, grunting with the effort of pushing him back.
“Well now,” the man chuckled, looking down at the top of Daniel’s head. “A little Alpha pup.” He stepped back without any resistance, yet his cold, metallic eyes never left Johanna.
“Strange,” he mused, a soft, dismissive laugh following. “So beautiful, but not an Omega?” His next words were as light and careless as a drifting feather. “Your situation is a sad one. I’ll leave your apartment deposit alone. I’m a gentleman, you see. Unlike those other thugs.”
Johanna could only stare, speechless.
“My name is Ilian Redis, young lady.”
He produced a business card from his pocket and extended it to her. “Contact me if you ever present as an Omega. I’ll buy you. For a very high price.”
Dazed, Johanna took the card. The insult, delivered as casually as a greeting, felt utterly surreal. The entire day felt like a waking nightmare.
“Until we meet again.”
With a charming crinkle of his eyes and a flippant wave, he turned and led his men from the chapel. Johanna glared as he walked away, her gaze then falling to the card, now half-crushed in her fist.
Ilian Redis
Silver script gleamed on the stark, ink-black cardstock. Below his name was an address and a postal code. The back listed the name of his business—no gaudy slogans like ‘Same-Day Loans’ or ‘Interest-Free.’
On paper, he looked like a respectable businessman. The absurdity of it all made a dry laugh catch in her throat. She started to crumple the card, to throw it away in disgust, but then she remembered where she was. With a sigh, she shoved it into her pocket.
She turned toward the supply closet, thinking she should at least sweep up the ashes and the cigarette butt from the floor.
“Johanna… that bastard…” Daniel’s voice was choked with fury as he clutched at her sleeve. His hand was trembling. He felt her humiliation as if it were his own.
Johanna pulled him into a tight embrace, letting him lean his weight against her as she stroked his back.
“It’s all right, Daniel. I’ll handle it.”
“But… our home…” His next words were a barely audible mumble. “We don’t have any money.”
Her heart ached for him. At an age when he should have been focused on school and friends, he was burdened with the family’s finances. She had grown up the same way—working from a young age, caring for their ailing mother, managing the household, and always, always worrying about the future. The bills, the tuition… and their father, a thief who would steal their last coin for the gambling tables.
She had worked so hard to ensure Daniel would never know such hardship. But the cruel cycle of life had a way of shattering even the most determined efforts.
“…It’s okay.”
Even so, she made a vow.
“It’s okay, Daniel,” she whispered, holding him tighter. “I’ll figure something out.”
To Johanna Lucerne, her family was her mother and her brother. Now that illness had claimed one, she would protect the other, no matter the cost. She had to. Her own heart, a sandcastle about to be washed away by the tide, wouldn’t survive otherwise.
* * *
Another letter had arrived from the old man.
Kiara tried to comfort her brother, pointing out that at least he wasn’t showing up in person. But Leonid knew all too well that the old duke was more than capable of storming his gates without warning.
“Still treating me like a stud horse. The damned old man.”
The letter was the same as always. How old are you now and still unmarried? Find a Dominant Omega before it is too late. It is harder for an Extreme Dominant Alpha like you to sire children after thirty… He had read the same tired refrain in over twenty letters, and he was sick to death of it. After a nasty bout of the flu last autumn, his grandfather had begun hounding him as if he had received some divine revelation. The old duke’s determination to see a grandchild by next year was nothing short of terrifying.
“At this rate, Grandfather might just shove an Omega into your bedroom,” Kiara had warned him.
“Or he’ll have you kidnapped and locked up on a deserted island with one. He’s more than capable of it.”
Anyone else would have scoffed at the exaggeration, but Leonid knew his sister was right. His grandfather was obsessed, to a degree that could only be called a fixation, with securing an heir to carry on the line of the historic Elderic family. This heir had to be a blood relative who was a Dominant Alpha, not a Beta, and certainly not an Omega.