Page 1 of The Debt

Chapter 1

“Put this on,” Vasco ordered, tossing a garment bag onto the bed.

Mira eyed the item with loathing. She knew it was another party that he would insist that she attend with her as his arm candy. She was not looking forward to another one of those. Silently she continued brushing her long dark tresses as her eyes stung. She swallowed hard, tying to keep from crying yet again. Her distress made no difference to Vasco. He owned her and he never let her forget it.

“Did you hear me?” He asked, coming up behind her.

She raised her eyes and met his dark brown pools in the mirror. “I don’t feel well, Vasco. Can I skip this one?”

He smirked, placing both hands on her shoulders. “You will put that dress on and attend the party. And you will like it, just the way you will like it later when I fuck you. Don’t let me down Mira.”

With that, he turned and marched from the bedroom. Amira Barclay knew she was trapped. A shudder ran through her at the thought of sex with him. Every touch, every sound of his grunts, every thrust of his cock inside her repulse her to the core. Yet, she was helpless. She was his woman. Everyone knew that. But every time she screamed during sex, it wasn’t because she liked it. It was her way of protesting.

Tossing the brush onto the bureau, Amira let out a little shriek, low enough for her ears only. If only she could just walk away from it all, but she couldn’t and Vasco knew that. Taking a shuddering breath, she pulled a tissue from the box on the bureau and dabbed her eyes before putting on her makeup. She had to look her best, otherwise Vasco would find something to complain about. If she was a good girl he wouldn’t punish her.

Yet, she favored being punished to the loving way he touched her when he was happy with her. She preferred the pain, which reminded her why she was there. On second thoughts she wiped her make clean and dabbed lip balm on her lips. She knew he wouldn’t like it and she was ready for her punishment later. Each thrust of his cock would remind her that this was just an arrangement. The more painful it was, the more determined she was to find a solution to her problem.

Taking the garment from its bag, she put the dress on. The silver dress flared at the hem, falling in soft folds just below her knees. She had to admit that Vasco had great taste in clothes. He was one of the best dressed men in the city and heads turned whenever they were out together. He also knew how to shop for her and that annoyed her more than anything.

Everyone knew who he was and what he did for a living. Some feared him while others revered him. Amira hated him. Until she knew exactly where he kept her father, she was his to do whatever he wanted. Selling her soul to the devil was the only way to save her father’s life. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. As she slipped into her black strappy sandal, she seethed inside at the dirty trick he played on her.

That day came crashing back to her like yesterday. He father was battling for his life in the ICU and the only way to save his life was through a procedure that would cost nearly quarter of a million dollars. With no health or life insurance they were preparing to pull the plug on the machines that were keeping him alive.

She’d just walked out of her father’s room at the hospital. In despair she sank to the floor, hugging her knees to her while letting the tears flow. She didn’t care that she was disturbing the tranquility of the usually quiet ward with her loud bawling. Her father was the only family she had left, except for an aunt who lived in another state. They had no one who could help them and the thought of losing her father was unbearable.

Someone crouched beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” His voice was soft.

Amira raised her eyes, trying to see through the blur of her tears. A man was smiling at her, his dark brown eyes sharp. In frustration, brushing her falling tears from her cheeks while trying to catch her breath in order to speak.

“Shh,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her up. “Come with me.”

Expensively dressed and well groomed, he smelled of sea breeze. Like a puppet, Amira allowed him to lead her to the cafeteria where he ordered coffee for them both. By this, her crying was replaced by incessant hiccups. He handed her the coffee and encouraged her to drink.

“Th-tha-nk y-you,” she stuttered through the hiccups.

“Drink up and then tell me all about it, okay?”

Taking a sip of her coffee she nodded as she watched him. His eyes never wavered from her face. He looked familiar but she was too distraught to delve into her mind in order to place him. When she was done drinking her coffee he took her hand and held it as though he’d known her for years.

“Now tell me what has you so upset.”

“I don’t want to burden you,” she said. “We don’t even know each other.”

“That’s easily remedied. I’m Vasco.”

She managed a pained smile. “I’m Amira.”

“Mira, tell me what’s upsetting you?”

“Amira,” she corrected. “And it’s my father. He’s dying and there’s nothing I can do to help him.”

“What do you need in order to help him?”

She sniffed. “Money, but we don’t have that. The doctor said that we should prepare. I can’t lose my dad, he’s all I got.”

“How much?”

A crease entered her forehead as she tried to comprehend his question. “How much what?”

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