LORI

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Lori's POV.

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Shiver ran through my spine, and I felt like the ground should open and take me in. I grabbed the hem of my dress, my heart blazing.

Connor was stopping me here because of my debt. It was true that I was owing him. It wasn't intentional. It was the transferred debt of my late parents. But because I couldn't pay the debt, he tied me down with this and humiliated me now and then.

The receptionist glanced at me, her hands typing on her computer. Her eyes brightened slightly as she read the screen, confirming whatever lie Connor had fed her. "It looks like you do have a poor credit score," she said, her voice now tinged with pity.

I looked around, desperate for an escape, but all I saw were the faces of people who thought I didn’t belong there. And maybe, at that moment, I believed them. Maybe Connor was right. Maybe I didn’t belong in a place like this.

But then I remembered why I was here. I remembered the betrayal, the pain, and the vow I had made to myself. I wouldn’t let him break me. Not again.

“I may have a poor credit score,” I said, my voice barely audible at first, but growing stronger with each word. “But I’m not here because of my past. I’m here to start over. To make something of myself. And nothing you say or do is going to stop me.”

Connor’s smirk faltered, just for a second, before he recovered. “well, you've to pay me my money now."

I stood there, heart pounding in my chest, as Connor sneered at me. The stares of the people in the Knight headquarters bore into me, every judgmental gaze feeling like a blow to my already fragile spirit. My fingers clenched tightly around the hem of my dress, knuckles white. It wasn’t just mockery, but also it was the absolute feeling of helplessness, the idea that no matter how hard I tried to escape this, Connor would always find a way to drag me back into the pit.

"I want my money now," he said again, his voice venomous.

"Connor, please..." My voice was shaky, barely above a whisper. I could feel tears threatening to spill from my eyes, but I fought them back. Not here. Not in front of him.

He stepped closer, towering over me, his breath hot and reeking of cheap cologne. The smirk on his face widened as if he was relishing the moment. Before I could even register what was happening, his hand shot out, and a sharp sting blossomed across my cheek.

I gasped, stumbling back, my hand instinctively flying to my face. The pain radiated through me like a shockwave, and my knees buckled beneath me. I fell to the cold, hard floor, my world spinning for a brief moment as the impact rattled my bones.

"You're pathetic," Connor spat, standing over me, looking down at me as though I was nothing more than dirt beneath his shoes. "You'll never amount to anything. Do you think you can survive without me? Without my money? You're just a debtor, Lori. Nothing but a useless debtor."

I could feel the eyes of everyone in the lobby on me, their shocked whispers barely audible over the rush of blood pounding in my ears. My body trembled as I tried to push myself up, my limbs weak and my pride shattered. But before I could stand, Connor grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me to my feet.

"Get up!" he growled, pulling harder until I cried out in pain, my scalp burning from the force of his grip. "You think you can just walk in here like you deserve anything? You’re nothing but a burden. A failure."

His words cut deeper than any physical blow, slicing through the last threads of hope I had. I stood there, tears finally spilling from my eyes as he pulled me closer, his breath rancid against my skin. "No one wants you here, Lori. No one. You're finished."

And just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, just as I felt like I was going to break under the weight of it all, a cold, steely voice cut through the room like a blade.

"Let her go."

He froze. Slowly, he turned his head, his smirk faltering as his eyes landed on the figure standing behind him. My breath hitched in my throat. There, standing at the entrance of the lobby, was Mr. Knight.

His presence was overwhelming. He stood tall and imposing, dressed in a sharp black suit that screamed power and authority. His dark eyes were locked on Connor, and his jaw was set in a way that made it clear he wasn’t here to negotiate. The air around him felt cold, almost suffocating, as if the very room was bending to his will.

"Who the hell are you?" Connor spat, but there was a quiver in his voice now. He still had his hand tangled in my hair, but I could feel his grip loosening.

Mr. Knight took a step forward, his gaze never leaving Connor. "I said," his voice was low, deadly, "let her go."

Connor hesitated for a split second too long. In an instant, Mr. Knight’s hand shot out, grabbing Connor by the collar and pulling him away from me. The force was so swift, so sudden, that Connor didn’t even have time to react before Mr. Knight's fist collided with his face.

The sound of the punch blared through the lobby like a gunshot. Connor crumpled to the floor, clutching his face as he groaned in pain. Blood dripped from his nose, and he looked up at Mr. Knight with wide, terrified eyes. The cocky smirk he had worn so confidently was completely gone, replaced by sheer panic.

I stood there, frozen, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Mr. Knight had just defended me. ME.

I didn’t know what to think. I had come here expecting nothing but rejection and scorn. And yet, here was this man—this cold, ruthless mafia lord—protecting me from Connor’s cruelty.

"How much does she owe you?" Mr. Knight’s voice was calm now, but there was an underlying menace in it that made even me shiver.

Connor coughed, still holding his bloodied nose. "What?" he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

"I asked," Mr. Knight said, his eyes narrowing, "how much does she owe you?"

Connor stammered, clearly caught off guard. "T-Twenty thousand. She owes me twenty thousand dollars."

Mr. Knight nodded once, then turned to one of the men standing nearby; one of his bodyguards, I assumed. "Pay him double."

The guard didn’t hesitate. He pulled out a sleek black wallet and began counting out bills right there on the floor, the crisp sound of money being peeled off echoing in the dead silence of the room. When he finished, he tossed the wad of cash at Connor, who scrambled to gather it up, his hands shaking.

"That’s forty thousand," Mr. Knight said, his voice hard and unyielding. "Consider it payment for your debt and a warning."

Connor looked up, his face pale. "A warning?"

"If I see you near her again," Mr. Knight continued, stepping closer until he was looming over Connor, "I will make sure you regret it. Is that understood?"

Connor nodded frantically, his eyes wide with fear. "Y-Yes. Yes, I understand."

"Good." Mr. Knight stepped back, his expression unreadable. "Now get out."

Connor didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet, clutching the cash to his chest as he bolted for the door, not even sparing me a glance as he fled.