A Debt Owed (The Debt Duet 1)

“We’re here,” I say. “Let’s eat.”

I step out of the car and lock it before going to the other side and opening it up for her. I told the driver to stay inside at all times because I want him available and ready to go. I also want to make sure she doesn’t go anywhere should she try to run.

He knows not to mess with me, just like all my other staff. They’ve been trained from the start to be quiet and respect my authority. It’s the only way they get paid their ample salary and ensure their families remain safe.

Threats always work to get what I want, and I don’t fucking regret any of them. I’ve worked too hard for my wealth and power to let anyone touch it. I don’t care what anyone thinks of that. I take what I want, and I own it. Fully. Completely. Just like her.

I don’t want her because it’s her, because she’s so witty, or charming, or cute.

No, I want her so I can control her. So I can use her for my every desire and make her bend to my will. I’ll flaunt her submission in her father’s face as the ultimate revenge.

Fuck, I can’t wait to see the tears on that fucker’s face.

It was already magnificent seeing their eyes connect the moment he gave her away, how her face turned white with betrayal and his filled with wrenching guilt. I could have come right there and then just from watching her squirm.

Yes, I’m an evil son of a bitch, but I don’t care.

That man made me into the monster I am today.

Because of him, my father is dead … and he will pay.

Licking my lips, I glare at her sitting in the car. Her legs are crossed, and her arms are folded as she gazes out the other window where I was just seated only seconds ago. She can avoid me all she wants, but sooner or later, she’s gonna have to come to terms with what her father did. What he gave away—his supposed precious little girl—is now mine to seduce and possess.

“Are you gonna get out?” I ask.

“No,” she hisses.

“Do you want me to drag you like I did in that restaurant?” I narrow my eyes. “Because I will if I have to.”

She sighs and then steps out, bumping into me rudely. I know she’s trying to prove a point, but it doesn’t faze me. She’ll do exactly what I ask her to do because my threats aren’t just threats … I follow through. And I think she knows that right about now.

I hold out my arm in an attempt to remain civil, and she reluctantly takes it. Still, she refuses to even look at me. It’s okay … we’ll get to that part later when she’s on her knees.

I lean in sideways until my lips graze her ears. “Do not try to escape or talk to anyone. It will get you killed.” Her fingers dig into my skin as I speak the words. “If you behave, I’ll treat you right,” I whisper.

She sucks in a sharp breath. “What are we going to do?”

Isn’t the answer obvious? I don’t know why she asks. “Eat.”

“And then what?” The arrogance in her voice amuses me.

“You’ll see,” I murmur, the corners of my mouth tipping up. “Come.”

I lead her into the restaurant and toward a table, then gesture for her to sit down across from me on a comfy leather couch. It’s a high-end establishment, unlike where we were with her father. I wanted it to serve as a nice contrast of what I can offer as opposed to what he’s given her all these years.

“Do you like the place?” I ask, unfolding a napkin.

“No,” she says bluntly. “When will you let me go?”

I laugh. “Really, Charlotte? You’re already talking about freedom?” I shake my head. “We haven’t even gotten our food yet. Let’s eat first, and then we can talk.”

“No, let’s talk now,” she says, sitting back with her arms crossed again in defiance. “Did you seriously think I’d accept this?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” I say, clearing my throat when the waiter arrives with two plates of giant lobster. “Thank you.”

She ignores her food completely, focusing only on me. “What did my father promise you?”

“You,” I reply, cutting into my lobster to take a bite.

“He’d never agree to that up front,” she hisses. “I don’t believe it.”

“Maybe he did, or maybe he didn’t. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re here now, and that you’re mine.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” she replies, staring down at her lobster as if it’s poisonous.

“We’re not leaving until you eat that,” I say, pointing at her food.

“I don’t care.”

“Would you say the same if your father died?”

Her eyes widen. I knew she’d still have a weak spot for him.