Chapter 4 The Price of Fate
"Sit here, Emily. Let me check who's at the door."
Damian grabbed a wooden plank, his knuckles turning white as he tightened his grip. His stance was firm, ready for a fight. Emily, on the other hand, sat frozen at the edge of her chair, fingers digging into the armrest. The air in the room felt thick and dangerous.
BOOM!
The door burst open.
Two towering men in black suits and sunglasses stepped inside, their presence sucking the warmth from the room.
"Where's our money?" one of them growled.
Damian barely had time to react before a brutal punch to his gut sent him stumbling backward. His body crashed against the barricade, breath knocked from his lungs. Before he could recover, another hit cracked against his face.
Emily let out a sharp gasp as they grabbed Damian and dragged him to a chair, binding him tight. Blood trickled from his lip, his eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness.
One of the men turned his attention to Emily.
"Now, look at this pretty thing," he sneered, grabbing a fistful of her hair. His voice was low, taunting. Emily shuddered as his breath ghosted over her skin.
"Please," she whispered. "The money will be ready in three days."
Damian's eyes cracked open at the sound of his sister's trembling voice.
"Don't touch her! Take whatever you want," he pleaded, his voice hoarse with pain.
The second man chuckled darkly. "Oh, we'd love to, but this" he gestured to Emily, dragging his fingers down her arm, "is much more fun."
Fury burned in Damian's eyes. "You sons of b"
Another punch landed, snapping his head to the side.
"You know what, sweetheart?" The first man smirked. "Make us some sandwiches. We like to eat before… business."
Emily swallowed hard, her mind racing. There was no way out. She had to stall.
She forced herself to move, grabbing whatever spices she could find, her hands shaking as she worked. The scent of toasted bread and sizzling fillings filled the air, masking the thick tension.
When she returned, she placed the sandwiches on the table and took a step back, silence.
One of the men smirked. "Hey, you. Come take a bite."
Emily hesitated but obeyed. As she leaned in, her trembling fingers knocked the plate, sending a sandwich tumbling to the floor. The moment stretched, the silence deafening.
The men's hands hovered near their weapons—one gripping a pistol, the other brushing over a knife strapped to his thigh. An AK-47 rested against the chair. There was no room for mistakes.
"You bitch," the man snarled. "Did you poison the food?"
"No, sir, I—I didn't! Please, let me prove it."
She grabbed another piece and took a bite, swallowing hard. "See? It's safe. Please don't hurt my brother."
The men exchanged glances, then smirked.
"Smart girl."
But before they could say more, Damian's weak voice cut through the tension.
"My sister… she's getting married in three days."
The room went dead silent.
"To who?"
"Clerk Adrian. The Stone family."
The moment the name left his lips, the debt collectors paled. One dropped his sandwich. The other stiffened like a corpse.
The first man swallowed hard. "The dreaded Mrs. Stone?"
The second man's hands trembled as he quickly untied Damian. "We're sorry. So sorry. You can pay us whenever you want—just, please, don't mention us to Mrs. Stone. We… we don't want to be erased."
Fear dripped from their voices as they backed toward the door.
A sudden knock froze them in place.
Damian clenched his jaw. Emily's heart nearly stopped.
Who was it now?
One of the collectors panicked. "We're leaving! Please, don't say a word about us!"
Damian hesitated, then reached for the door. His bruised fingers twisted the knob, and as it swung open, a man stepped inside.
The air shifted.
Tall. Refined. Power dripped from him effortlessly. His sharp features and piercing gaze could make even the strongest crumble. The kind of man whose presence was both intoxicating and terrifying.
Emily's breath hitched.
Even the debt collectors looked like they'd seen a ghost.
"Greetings, Mr. Clinton," they stammered in unison, their bravado from earlier completely shattered.
His voice was smooth, cold. "What are you both doing here?"
"They—they came for their money," Damian admitted, still groggy.
Clinton's gaze flickered to Damian's bruised face, then back to the men. His expression darkened.
"And you thought it was wise to beat him to a pulp?"
The collectors shrank under his glare.
"We—we're sorry, sir! We didn't know—"
"Leave."
They practically tripped over themselves rushing out the door.
Clinton exhaled sharply. "The debt is called off. I don't care how much it is."
Damian blinked in shock. Emily just stared.
Clinton turned to her, his intense gaze locking onto hers. He reached out, gently tilting her chin upward. The warmth of his fingers lingered even after he pulled away, sending a shiver down her spine.
"I hope you weren't hurt… Emily, right?"
She could barely find her voice. "No, I… I wasn't."
A small smirk played on his lips. "Good. You have a wedding to prepare for."
Emily swallowed. "Will you be there?"
Clinton let out a low chuckle. "Of course. My brother is the one getting married, after all."
Damian scoffed loudly, cutting through the thick tension. "Alright, enough of this romantic nonsense."
Clinton ignored him. With one last glance at Emily, he turned and strode out. The air shifted as he left, but his presence remained—like a brand burned into her skin.
Emily exhaled sharply.
"Emily!"
She jumped. "What?"
Damian narrowed his eyes. "No, no, no. Don't tell me you're crushing on him already."
She rolled her eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"You were lost in thought, staring after him like a love-struck fool. That's the stepbrother of the man you're about to marry!"
Emily crossed her arms. "So? My wedding isn't exactly by choice."
Damian groaned. "Listen. The wedding is in three days. The Stones are handling everything—this is going to be the most luxurious, high-profile event in California. You need to focus."
Emily's jaw clenched. "Luxury doesn't buy happiness."
Damian sighed, wincing as he touched his bruises. "I need sleep. Tomorrow, we go shopping. You need to look the part."
Emily muttered under her breath, frowning.
Bim Biko Bin.
The sharp ring of her phone cut through the air.
She glanced at the screen.
The hospita
l.
Her blood ran cold.
Damian stiffened. "Why are they calling? I thought we made the payment."
Emily's heart pounded.
Something was wrong.
"Ok, pick up" !