Marcus Pov
The sound of gravel crunching outside his workshop made Marcus look up. The sun was just starting to dip, casting long shadows across the yard.
He wiped his hands on a dirty cloth, his arms still sore from a day of labor. His forge had been quiet lately—too quiet. Business was slow, and the bills were piling up.
The black SUV rolled to a stop outside. Expensive. Tinted windows. Not from town.
Two men stepped out. One moved like he owned the ground beneath him. Tall, sharp-suited, expression like carved marble. The other stayed back, but alert—like a bodyguard or second-in-command.
Marcus tensed. This wasn't a visit. It was a reckoning.
The taller man approached, stopping just a few feet from him. "Marcus Blake?"
Marcus nodded. "That's right. Can I help you?"
"I'm here to collect on a debt."
Marcus felt his stomach twist. "Who are you?"
"Darius Vale."
The name hit like a hammer. Old family. Dangerous reputation. Marcus had hoped that debt had died with Darius's father.
Apparently not.
"I thought… I thought that was settled," Marcus said carefully.
Darius's face didn't flicker. "Half was forgiven. The rest remains."
"That was twenty years ago."
"I don't care how long it's been."
Silence. The only sound was the wind brushing through the dry leaves.
Darius stepped forward, his presence suffocating in the quiet. "You owe. I'm offering a way to clear it."
"I don't have anything left," Marcus said, voice low. "Not money. Not land."
"You have daughters."
Marcus's blood ran cold. "Excuse me?"
"One of them will marry me."
Marcus stared. He couldn't speak.
Darius continued, as if he were discussing a contract. "It will be legal. Quick. Clean. In exchange, your debt disappears. Your name is protected. You and your family will never struggle again."
"You want to marry one of my girls?" Marcus asked, incredulous. "You don't even know them."
"That's not necessary."
"And if I say no?"
"Then your debt stays. And I'll collect in other ways." His voice was low. Calm. But there was a weight behind those words that made Marcus's skin crawl.
"They're just kids."
"They're yours," Darius said, eyes like steel. "And I suggest you think very carefully before wasting my time."
Marcus swallowed hard.
"I'll return in two days."
With that, Darius turned and walked back to the SUV. The second man opened the door for him silently, then followed. The engine started, the tires rolled over gravel, and they were gone.
Marcus stood alone in the fading light, heart pounding.
Back inside, the house was still.
Marcus lowered himself into the nearest kitchen chair. The old wood creaked beneath him.
He rubbed his hands together, the black smudges from the forge still fresh in the creases.
He could still hear the man's voice in his head. Cold. Certain.
One of them will marry me.
His eyes drifted to the hallway.
Two doors. Two daughters.
Two days.
Marcus bowed his head into his hands, and for the first time in years, he felt powerless.