Chapter 1

I'm Sorry, Sasha. But I can't continue like this. You slept for the fifth time." The manager yelled at the girl who had her head down. She couldn't argue this time because he was right. 

"I'm sorry, Sir. Please—" the man raised his hand, gesturing Sasha to stop.

"You have to resign from this job. I need active people." 

"Another chance, Sir. Please." The girl pleaded,but the manager nodded his head. 

"Please take your things while you move out." His thumb pointed backwards, to the door. Sasha's shoulders slumped. She had no way out of this. 

She packed her items in a box and walked out of the store. She could hear the other staff whispering about her. If God gave her supernatural powers, she would have blocked those voices away. It was a painful reminder of how terrible her life was. 

The biting wind blew a few strands of her hair as she walked through the street. Her jeans vibrated and she pulled out her cell phone. It was her alarm. 

She first decided to keep her things back at home and then go to the hospital. 

As she was passing through the street, there was one hoarding with the sign "Wanted Employees". She read through the hoarding. They wanted restaurant staff. It was a good opportunity for her, so she clicked a picture of the hoarding. 

"Tch. It's dark, so the picture is unclear." She deleted the picture and decided to note down all the details in her phone notepad. Only if she had a more advanced phone, with a better camera quality. 

The night sky looked pale this time, the dark clouds hiding the moon under their sheath. The smell of freshly baked cake waffled Sasha's nose as she passed through the bakery shop. Everytime she would pass through here, her eyes would find the beautiful cakes and pastries sitting behind the glass, luring her in with their beauty. She always wanted to try the red velvet cake. The colour in itself was seductive. But she never had the confidence to even enter the shop. 

Not because she can't buy them, but because of the small pain in her heart of not getting something that she desired. It didn't cost that much. Eating it for one day wouldn't cost her a lifetime fortune. But then again, 

Gambling was a part of her father's life, not by choice,but by the tricks of the mind. Addiction. He wanted to get rid of it, but still he couldn't. And everytime his brown eyes looked at her, promising to leave it, she had learnt to acknowledge how they actually were. 

The streetlights reduced in numbers as she walked towards her home. It was a dark alley, and dangerous at night. But even in that darkness, she could see the shiny metal of Bugatti Chiron. And a few more cars, probably BMW standing behind the former. Her eyebrows furrowed, forming a thick crease on her forehead. She wouldn't have budged about rich people coming in this area. But why were those cars parked in front of her house? Was she mistaken? 

Sasha shook her head and trudged towards the cream colored door. Her heart drummed against her chest. Something did not feel right. Her hand moved towards the right, aiming for the doorbell, but instinct told her to check the door knob. The sound of the knob twisting was profound under the silence of the street. She slowly pushed the door open and walked inside. "I'm home!" She called out, but there was no answer. 

The prolonged silence felt wrong, so she placed the box on the floor and walked into the corridor, towards the living room. Was he drunk again? Maybe he was sleeping. But why would he keep the door open then? And what about the cars? Sasha wanted to believe that it was another terribly normal day in her life. But that voice at the back of her head warned her. 

As she stopped in front of the living room, her eyes fell on the group of tall men wearing black suits standing in her living room. A gasp escaped the boundaries of her lips, not because of the men standing. But because of seeing her father sitting on the chair, blood trickling down his forehead, painting half of his face red. It looked fresh, which meant the wound was recent. 

The knot in her throat tightened, making it difficult to form words and give them the sound from her vocals. But in a moment, her hands were already touching her father's forehead, looking for the injury. This time, it went far ahead. Everytime they  came, they would bruise him, but this much blood was never the scene. The sight of the injury was turning blurry as warm brinked her eyes. She knew what it was all about. "How much is it?" Her broken voice managed to speak, her arm holding her father close to her body. 

"Sa-sha. Listen to me." His rough palm embraced her wrist. It was the same palm that had marked her cheeks red numerous times. And it was the same palm that had put ointment on that cheek and patted her head when she had cried. "Please run away. Please. You cannot handle this." A tear leaked down her left eye and she sniffed. Her father's voice was desperate this time. 

"Now, who is that?" A voice, as rough as a cliff, spoke from the other side. Sasha did not have the guts to look at the man. Her hands were trembling, and her insides churned like a whirlpool. She gulped in the lump in her throat. 

"Mr. X. Please let her leave. She has nothing to do with all this." Her father joined his hands together. 

"That wasn't the answer to my question." His voice had no hint of mercy in it. 

"I–I'm his daughter. Please let my father go. I promise to pay the debt." More tears slid down her eyes. There was silence for a moment, until she heard something shift and then in a moment, her chin was held and shifted to face a pair of bluish-grey eyes. They held the amount of wrath that could even break a diamond. And there was a glint of curiosity playing in them upon seeing her. 

His warm, but paced breath fell on her face,the sting of his nails digging into her chin mixing the sensation. "Name." He spoke. 

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