The Offer

“You’ll like her,” my father said, his voice a blend of forced confidence and desperation. “She’s obedient. Quiet. A real prize, Mr. Levi.”

My ears rang, his words fading into noise as the room closed in on me. My claws pushed into the tattered fabric of my skirt, and my pulse raced like a frantic drum in my chest. Obedient. Quiet. I felt like I was just a commodity to be weighed and exchanged. Alexander Levi did not respond soon away. He stood in the centre of the room, his back straight and his posture tight, emanating might and danger. His icy-blue eyes moved between my father and me, appraising the situation with a coolness that made him even more horrifying. "Is that what you think of her?" he finally questioned, his tone distant. He didn't look at me as he talked, as if I didn't deserve to be addressed directly. “A prize?”

My father chuckled nervously, rubbing his hands together. “She’s young and strong. She can be molded, taught. Whatever you need her to be.”

A wave of nausea hit me, but I didn’t move. I wouldn’t give my father the satisfaction of seeing me break. My hands trembled against my will, and I gritted my teeth, locking my knees to stay upright.

Alexander turned his gaze to me then, pinning me in place with an intensity that made my breath catch. It wasn’t just the coldness in his eyes; it was the weight of his scrutiny, as if he were peeling back layers to see what lay beneath.

“And what do you think of this arrangement, Dysis?” he asked, his voice smooth but devoid of warmth.

I didn’t answer. What was the point? This wasn’t about me. It never had been.

“Answer him!” my father barked, his face darkening with anger. “Show some respect.”

I snapped my head toward him, my body moving before my brain caught up. “Respect? For what?” My voice shook, but the words spilled out anyway. “For selling me to settle your gambling debts? For treating me like—like property?”

His hand flew before I could react, the sharp crack of his palm against my cheek silencing me. Pain flared, hot and immediate, and I stumbled back, clutching my face. The room spun as tears welled up, but I swallowed them down, refusing to let them fall.

Alexander moved then, his steps deliberate as he closed the distance between himself and my father. The tension in the room thickened, every breath weighted with something unspoken.

“If you lay a hand on her again,” Alexander said quietly, his voice colder than I thought possible, “you’ll regret it.”

My father paled, his bravado faltering under Alexander’s glare. “Of course,” he stammered. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“Enough,” Alexander cut him off with a dismissive wave. He turned to me again, his expression unreadable. “Come here.”

My heart thudded in protest, but my feet moved anyway, dragging me forward like I was tethered to him. Not cruel, but not gentle either, his eyes never left me.

"Do you know what going to happen?" His voice was low enough for me to hear him enquire.

With a constricted throat, I nodded. With a slight smirk on his lips, he remarked, "You don't seem like the quiet, obedient type your father claims." I made fists at my sides, not knowing if he was testing me or making fun of me. I remarked, my words sounding sharper than I meant to, "I'm not going anywhere with you." "I'm not your property."

Something, almost delighted, flickered in his eyes, but his demeanor remained unchanged. His presence became more oppressive as he got closer, and eventually I could feel the heat radiating from him. "No," he said, his voice down to a near whisper. “But I will.”

A shiver ran through me, but I didn’t back down. I refused to.

Alexander straightened, turning back to my father with an air of finality. With an unarguable tone, he declared, "She comes with me." “The debt remains. You’ll have a week to pay me the rest, or I’ll take everything you have left.”

“B-but—” My father’s protest died in his throat when Alexander’s cold gaze met his. “Of course. A week. You have my word.”

Alexander didn’t acknowledge him further. He gestured toward the door, his attention back on me. “Let’s go.”

“No.” The word slipped out before I could stop it.

Both men froze. My father gave me a severe look, but Alexander's reaction made my stomach turn. He tilted his head slightly and gave me an expression I couldn't figure out. "You believe you have an option?" As he asked, his voice was serene yet slightly menacing.

Not only did I not move, but I also did not answer.

“Dysis,” my father hissed, his tone full of warning. “Stop being difficult.”

“She’s not being difficult,” Alexander said, cutting him off. He stepped toward me again, his movements slow, deliberate. “She’s afraid. Isn’t that right?”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. Was I afraid? Of course. But fear wasn’t the only thing keeping me rooted to the spot. It was anger. Fury at my father for what he’d done. At Alexander for taking me so easily. At myself for not fighting harder.

“I’m not going with you,” I said, forcing the words out even as my voice wavered.

Alexander’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You will. And you’ll thank me for it one day.”

“Thank you?” I spat, my anger bubbling to the surface. “For what? For ruining my life?”

“For saving it,” he said, his tone so matter-of-fact it stunned me into silence.

He turned then, signaling to someone outside the door. A moment later, two men in dark suits entered, their presence as imposing as Alexander’s.

“Take her,” Alexander ordered, his voice devoid of emotion.

“No!” I shouted, panic surging as the men approached. I stepped back, but they were faster, each grabbing an arm with a grip that felt like iron. “Let me go!”

As I struggled, my father remained motionless, staring at the ground. He didn't give me a glance. He remained silent. "Dad!" Desperation tugged at my throat as I screamed. "Avoid them! Keep me from getting taken!

But he didn’t move.

Alexander paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. "You'll thank me, Dysis," he repeated, his tone as firm as a slammed door. The men hauled me out, my shouts booming down the corridor, but no one came to aid. Nobody ever did.

As I was pulled into the cold darkness, Alexander's tall, unforgiving figure—a shadow that would follow me forever—was the last thing I saw. I was cut off from all I knew as the door slammed behind me.