Chapter 1 – Debt Collector at the Door
Rain tapped lightly against the cracked windowpane, turning the glow of the streetlights into blurred halos. The air inside the apartment was stale, heavy with the smell of instant coffee and damp carpet — the kind of scent that clung to old walls when bills piled up faster than paychecks.
Sienna Cole sat cross-legged on the worn sofa, a battered notebook on her lap, coins and crumpled bills spread across the cushion like the aftermath of a failed gamble. Her fingers moved quickly, trained from years of stretching too little into barely enough. But with every coin stacked, every note smoothed flat, her stomach sank further.
It wasn't enough.
It was never enough.
Her chest tightened at the memory of the voicemail from an hour ago — the low, rough male voice that seemed carved from gravel, the kind of voice that clung to your bones even after the sound faded.
> "Seven days, sweetheart. Or your pretty sister pays in other ways."
Her eyes flicked across the room to where her younger sister lounged on the opposite couch, the screen of her phone glowing against her face. Lila's giggles echoed in the tiny apartment, soft and careless, like she had no idea of the danger closing in.
Sienna clenched her jaw. At twenty-one, Lila was all beauty and softness, with the kind of laugh that made strangers forgive her too easily. She didn't understand consequences — not the kind that left scars.
"Lila," Sienna said, sharper than she intended. "You told me you owed two thousand. Now they're saying ten. Do you have any idea what that means?"
Lila's fingers froze mid-scroll. She glanced up, her eyes wide with guilt before quickly looking away. "I thought I could fix it before you found out."
"Fix it?" Sienna's voice cracked. She pressed her palms against her knees to keep them from shaking. "You borrowed from people you can't fix things with."
Before Lila could answer, a knock rattled the thin door.
No — not a knock. Three deliberate, heavy thuds that made the frame shudder.
Sienna's blood ran cold. Every instinct screamed at her to stay still, to keep quiet, but she was already moving. She stood, planting herself between the door and her sister, heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.
"Who is it?"
A deep chuckle slid through the air, oily and mocking. "Open up, sweetheart. We need to talk."
Her hand trembled on the chain lock as she cracked the door open an inch.
A man filled the doorway. Rain slid from his buzz-cut hair, dripping onto the black leather of his jacket. His smile was thin, humorless, and his eyes flicked around the apartment as though he was already cataloging what could be broken. Behind him stood another man — broader, silent, his presence heavy and watchful like a shadow that could crush bone.
"You're late on payment," the first man said. His tone was calm, conversational, but it carried more threat than any shout. "Mr. Hale doesn't like waiting."
The name made Sienna's stomach clench. Everyone in this part of the city had heard of Mr. Hale. Wealthy. Ruthless. The kind of man who collected debts in more than money.
She swallowed, fighting to keep her voice steady. "I just need more time."
The man's smile widened, and somehow grew colder. "Time's up in seven days. Ten thousand. Or…" His gaze flicked past her shoulder, landing on Lila sprawled on the couch, and Sienna's pulse kicked hard against her ribs. "…we settle in other ways."
The words hung in the air, thick with threat.
Sienna's hand tightened on the door, her knuckles white. She wanted to slam it shut, to scream at them to get out, but fear rooted her in place. The men didn't wait for her response. They turned and disappeared down the dark hallway, their footsteps fading but leaving the air inside heavier than before.
Sienna shut the door with a shaky breath. She leaned her forehead against the wood, her body trembling with the effort of keeping it together.
Behind her, Lila's voice was small. "I'm sorry, Sisi. I didn't think it would get this bad."
Sienna turned, her chest aching at the sight of her sister's tear-rimmed eyes. She wanted to yell, to shake her for being so reckless, but all she felt was exhaustion. "You never think, Lila. And now—now we're running out of time."
Her mind raced in frantic circles. No police. No bank loans. No friends who could help. Every path she thought of dead-ended in danger.
Her phone buzzed.
She flinched, fumbling to grab it from the table. The name flashing on the screen froze her in place.
Adrian Wolfe.
Her breath caught. Two years. She hadn't seen or spoken to him in two years. The last time had been at a glittering charity gala. She'd been working as a waitress, her hands shaking as she wove through the crowd with a tray of champagne flutes. She'd nearly stumbled into him, and his hand had shot out to steady her, strong and sure.
"You're shaking," he'd murmured, his voice low and warm. She'd looked up into eyes like storm clouds, and for a strange, fleeting moment, she'd forgotten who she was — forgotten the tray, the noise, the crowd.
She'd been foolish enough to believe that moment meant something. Until later, when she overheard him speaking to another man, his tone like ice.
"She's not the one. Forget her."
She had. Or at least, she thought she had.
Now he was calling.
Her thumb hovered over the screen. She let it ring twice before answering. "What do you want?" Her tone was flat, clipped, though her pulse betrayed her.
"I hear you're in trouble," he said. No greeting. No pretense. Just the blunt weight of his words. "Meet me tomorrow at eight. I have a proposal."
Her throat tightened. "I'm not interested in your games, Wolfe."
"This isn't a game," he replied. His voice was quiet, but there was a sharpness beneath it, a blade hidden in velvet. "It's a deal. And it might be the only way to save your sister."
The line went dead.
Sienna lowered the phone slowly, staring at her own reflection in the darkened window. Rain streaked down the glass, the city's blurred lights glowing like faded stars.
She didn't know what Adrian Wolfe wanted from her.
But she knew one thing for certain.
Whatever it was, it wouldn't come without a price.