The moment Mia pushed open the door, the smell of stale cigarette smoke and despair hit her.
The small living room was thick with tension. Her mother, Deneen, was sobbing on the worn-out sofa. Her brother, Sean, sat slumped in a chair, a fresh purple bruise swelling on his cheekbone.
"You're finally back!" Deneen scrambled up and grabbed Mia's arm, her nails digging into her flesh. "Thank God! You have to help your brother!"
Mia's eyes moved past her mother to the three men standing in the center of the room. The one in charge was a middle-aged man with a cheap suit, a predatory smile, and yellowing teeth. He was flanked by two larger men who looked like they enjoyed their work.
"He's Mr. Sykes," Sean mumbled, his eyes fixed on the floor. "I... I owe him money."
Mr. Sykes let his gaze travel slowly over Mia, from her messy hair down to her scuffed shoes. It was the look of a butcher sizing up a piece of meat.
"Five hundred thousand dollars," he said, his voice a low gravelly rumble. "Due today. If I don't get it, your brother here is going to have a hard time walking."
Five hundred thousand.
The number echoed in Mia's head, making the room spin. It was an astronomical sum, a figure her family couldn't earn in a decade.
Deneen's sobs intensified. She shook Mia's arm frantically. "Mia, you work at that fancy preschool! You know rich people, rich parents! Go ask them! Borrow the money!"
A bitter coldness spread through Mia's chest. She had just been used, possibly drugged, and her job was the last thing on her mind. But all her mother could think about was using her connections.
She pulled her arm free and stared hard at her brother. "You were gambling again, weren't you?"
Sean flinched, refusing to meet her eyes.
Mr. Sykes chuckled, a nasty, grating sound. "Don't bother with that now, little lady. The time for blame is over."
He took a step closer. The stench of cheap cigars made her want to gag.
"However," he said, his tone shifting to something oily and suggestive, "there is another way to settle this debt. I happen to be looking for a wife."
His greedy eyes locked onto hers, and Mia understood everything. A wave of nausea and terror washed over her. She looked from Sykes's leering face to her family.
Deneen's crying had stopped. For one horrible second, Mia saw the thought forming in her mother's eyes before Deneen quickly looked away.
Sean looked up, a desperate, pleading hope on his bruised face. He was actually considering it.
The silent betrayal from her own family was a sharper, more painful blow than any threat Sykes could make. They were willing to sacrifice her. To sell her to this monster to save Sean.
In the depths of her despair, the feel of the business card in her pocket was a sudden, sharp reality. A crazy, impossible idea began to form.
She needed time.
Mia took a deep breath, forcing the tremor out of her voice. She looked directly at Mr. Sykes, a brittle smile pasted on her face.
"Marriage is a big step, Mr. Sykes," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "I'll need to think about it."
Sykes looked taken aback, then threw his head back and laughed. "Ha! I like you! You've got guts!"
Deneen and Sean let out audible sighs of relief, looking at Mia as if she were a saint.
"Give me one day," Mia continued, pressing her advantage. She was gambling, just like her brother, but with a much higher stake. "Tomorrow. Come back with a formal proposal, and I'll say yes."
She bet that a man like Sykes, full of crude pride, would love the theater of it. The conquest.
It worked.
"A formal proposal," he mused, a wide grin splitting his face. "I like that." He patted Sean's cheek, a little too hard. "You've got a good sister, kid. Alright. Tomorrow it is."
With a final, possessive look at Mia, Sykes and his men left.
The immediate threat was gone, but Mia knew the clock was ticking. Her countdown had just begun.
