INDEBTED To A Tyrant King

A Hundred Million

Before you read any further, please READ the WARNINGS(for new readers)- This is not the your everyday mushy romance. The Hero is not a Prince as said in the synopsis, proceed on your own risk, only if you are not highly sensitive. The Hero is an anti-hero, manipulative asshole-literally. And it surely contains explicit, s****l acts that you might not be comfortable with. Triggers Ahead!

Enjoy Reading, who are ready....

Summer

“Hey, Winter, I wanted to ask you something.”

I looked up to meet my boss' and my only friend’s green eyes. “Yeah…”

“Do you remember Ryan’s friend at the wedding?” Rose or Mrs Ryan Johnson as everybody calls her, asked.

“Arjun? Yeah, of course I know him.” I answered, my fingers automatically clenching around the designs I was holding. Even though I took Arjun’s name, I knew of whom she was talking about. I had felt him the moment he had entered the wedding hall. He had this way about him that no matter when and where he was, he’d always make people know about his presence, without doing much. And when I had seen him whole time my heart had raced inside my chest, waiting for him to throw me over his shoulder or drag me out of there. And that’s not even an unlikely scenario. But surprisingly he hadn’t. He didn’t even glance at me for once. I know it because unlike him my eyes were constantly searching for him. I had thought that my changed hair color was the reason he didn’t recognise me and a part of me was disappointed at the fact.

“No, not Arjun.” Rose said and her green eyes looked at me for a moment as if she was waiting for me to give her another answer. Finally, she said, “Gabriel, the one I danced with after Michael.”

Just the name of him sent a frisson of chills down my spine. “No.” I barked out. When Rose's eyes widened in shock, I said more calmly, “No. I don’t know him.”

The corner of her lips tilted up and I knew that she knew I was lying, but she didn’t press on it. Instead she nodded and said, “Well, then the message must be for someone else…”

I stiffened. “What message?”

“While we were dancing, he said, and I quote here, 'I have a message for one of your bridesmaids tell her there’s no need to run anymore.’” My breathing became shallow and my palms started to sweat. There was no doubt in my mind for whom that message was for. “Are you okay?” Rose asked, sensing my discomfort.

“Yeah..” I nodded my head, even though inside I was searching for a way to run away once again. But a part of me didn’t want to run away. At one time I had run and I had started from the scratch. Finding a stable job. Renting an apartment for me and my father. Sending my little sister to school. I had done everything and there was no way I could do all this again. I had changed everything in order to hide from him. My name. My hair. My city. My home.

“Winter…” I blinked a few times and looked up to find Rose at the edge of her seat, her pregnant belly touching the side of the table. “I won’t pressurise you, but if there’s something you want to tell me, you know you can.”

“I—”

“Here you are, lioness.” We both looked up as the door to the small balcony from the bedroom opened and Ryan Johnson, Rose’s husband and my boss walked out. With grey eyes focused on his wife filled with possession and love, he didn’t even spare a glance at me as he marched toward his wife in a black Armani suit sans jacket.

“Baby…” Rose started but gasped when he picked her up and planted a kiss on her lips.

I looked away feeling like I was intruding on a personal and intimate moment as Ryan said something in her ear and she giggled. After a few minutes of whispered exchange, I felt eyes on me. And then, “Good evening, Miss Winter.”

I turned to face the couple and they both looked so beautiful with each other I had to swallow down the pang of envy I felt. “Good evening, Mr Ryan. I was just showing Ro— I mean, Mrs Ryan the new clothing designs that had come out this week.”

“That’s good, but as I told you before, this all can wait until the delivery, I don’t want my lioness to be stressed out with office work.”

Rose elbowed her husband and said to me. “First of all, you call me Rose. And second, he is not your boss anymore so don’t take orders from him.” I loved how these two have overcome everything. The first time I had met Rose, she had come from India for a revenge on her husband. But now looking at them no one could guess the rocky start they had.

“Fine.” Ryan grumbled and then pressing another sweet kiss on his wife’s lips he said, “Ana was looking for you, why don’t you check on her.”

“Okay. See you later, Winter. And just leave the designs, I’ll email you.” She said to me and left me alone with her husband as she went to look for her daughter.

I collected all the designs and arranged them in the order for the upcoming magazine. I was so engrossed in my work that it took me a whole minute to realise that Ryan was looking at me and another to meet his eyes. “Summer…” I sucked in a breath as he said my former name, my real name. Slowly, I stood up and watched as something close to pity entered his grey eyes. “I was somewhat aware of your circumstances when you came to work for me, but I didn’t know that it was related to Gabriel. He is a friend. And as much as it pains me to say it, he isn’t the man he used to be, but I also know that he won’t hurt you. He knows where you are and I wanted to let you know that his men are following you.” My face must have shown my fear as he added, “No. Don’t worry. He told me it’s just for your safety. But what I wanted to tell you was that you should just go to him and talk to him. I know about your father and I will help you if you want that but I can’t put my own family at risk because of your father.”

I swallowed a few times and after collecting myself I gave him a nod. I even managed a smile as I said, “It’s okay, Mr Ryan. Thanks for letting me know all this.”

He grimaced. “I just wanted you to be ready, Summer. Your family is practically marked by the Russian mob, and there’s only one way to protect you and your family.”

That one way was Gabriel Wolfe. The King of the New Orleans. The only one powerful enough who could save my family from the Russians.

Present

That conversation I had with Ryan was eight months ago, and in these eight months I had felt eyes on me. I knew I was being watched. I knew every single thing I was doing was being reported back to him. So after a few weeks I had decided to forgo my usual makeover of dark hair and black eyes. And I had reverted back to my odd fashion sense with my curly red hair all over the place. And my distinct purplish grey eyes for all to see and judge.

After embracing my old self, I had waited. I had waited for him to come to me. But he didn’t. Even there was not even a whisper of his presence, which led me to believe I was finally free, and which also meant that now my mind was focused on something that wasn’t Gabriel Wolfe. Like my father and his addictions.

It was just half past nine, but in this neighborhood it was almost like three in the morning. No vehicle, no people and not even a stray dog or cat could be seen in the streets. So every step I was taking toward the small studio, that I had rented just after getting the job in Johnson’s Fashion Department, sounded like a whisper of someone following me. I quickened my steps, slipping my hand into my purse for a pepper spray, just in case. Just when I reached the curve of my studio, a car breezed down the lane in speed, startling me that I squeaked in alarm. With a hand on my heart and a nervous laugh, I ran up the narrow stairs to the studio. Within a few seconds, I had the door unlocked and closed behind me.

With my back to the door, breathing heavily I willed myself to relax and it was then that I realised that my apartment was shrouded in darkness. “Dad?” I called out as I took a step forward.

When no response came, I turned to face the wall to turn on the lights but froze as I heard the scrape of a chair. I whipped around. “Who’s there? Dad? Is that you?”

And then the light came, from the lighter the man sitting on the sofa lighted. “Hello, Miss Cavanagh.”

I stilled as I looked at the man that I had only heard about until now. The man that I heard whispers about when I lived in the New Orleans. The Russian mafia boss. I swallowed and balled my fists by my side. “Where is my father?” I asked and thanked the lord that my words came out steady, although my insides shook thinking that they had already killed my father.

“Oh, he is here.” The man answered as he flicked his fingers and a moment later two men came out of the shadows holding my father.

“Dad!” My father and I walked toward each other at the same time. I looked at him, searching for injuries if these men have hurt him and breathed in relief when I didn’t see any bruise. But that relief was short lived as the men hauled my father back and I automatically stopped midstride.

“Not so fast, Miss Cavanagh.” The Russian boss said from the sofa. When I looked at him, he said, “I didn’t want to do this, but your father has stolen from me.”

My eyes went to my father’s face who looked down at the floor, not meeting my eyes. And that was answer enough. “How much?” I asked.

“Fifty millions.”

My whole body went into shock. Fifty f*****g millions. Here I was doing overtime and making ends meet, electricity bills, rent, grocery and Erica’s tuitions. And my father on the other hand was busy gambling and doing coke worth fifty millions. “How?” I choked out. “How is that even possible?”

The answer came from the Boss instead of my father. He tsked and said, “Let’s not get into specifics. I gave him a job and free access to my club, and he sold the shipment and then lost the money he stole from me. And now here we are…”

To get his money which I don’t have. I didn’t say anything, just stood there shell-shocked that once again my father had brought us to this point. But this time I don’t think there was anywhere we could run to. “I don’t have money.” I said.

“I know.” He replied. And I waited for him to continue which he did. “So here is the deal, Miss Cavanagh.” He stood up and I stiffened. “We both know someone who has more than fifty millions and for that alone, you’ll bring a hundred million.”

“W-what? No!” What the f**k! “There’s no one who would give me that kind of money.”

He shook his head as he came forward. “Now, don’t be stupid, Miss Cavanagh. I know you know that he has been looking for you for sometime now.” Pinpricks of awareness danced on my skin. “Get me my hundred millions and you will get your father back.”

“No. Don’t make her do that. You got me. I stole from you, let her be.” My father said, trying his best to free himself from the men who held him. But it was impossible, he was frail and tired, not the man he used to be. The constant haze of alcohol and drugs had taken away from him.

One of the man kicked my father’s leg, making him drop on his knees. I started to walk toward him. “Don’t hurt him. Please.”

“We won’t, as long as I get my money by the end of the next two months.” The Boss walked toward me, looking down at me even though I was taller than most men at five-eight. “And if not, then I know where your little sister is.” My heart stilled at his implication and I felt my stomach bottoming out as he trailed a finger down my cheek. “And then you… I am sure I’ll get my hundred millions either way.”

And with that he walked out, with his men dragging my father along.

Hundred millions in two months.

Next update might be late. The book is in the works. Give me a day or two.

Thank you for your patience.