Chapter 3

Although the room in Beatrice's house wasn't large, at least it wasn't as horrifying as this. The lighting wasn't worse than the first room Beatrice visited. She glanced several times towards the door that was left open. If possible, she would remember in her heart to make that room disappear from her life, no matter how.

The room where she first experienced excessive fear and increasing pain that made her shiver. However, she didn't want to complain about the pain. If anyone heard her crying, she would lose. She wouldn't let that happen.

Her memories were dragged back to a few hours before she was here. When she had just returned from activities on campus. Even though she was happily chatting with her two friends, it felt like she had no burdens. But Beatrice knew, despite the smile on her face, that the burden wasn't easily lifted.

Especially the financial problem.

She was only the only child of a middle-aged man who was rough; he had a gambling ad*****on, got drunk, and only came home to ask for money from Beatrice before leaving just like that. Beatrice was never asked how she was doing, whether she had eaten or not, or where she got the money she was often asked for.

Beatrice had never been asked by the person she should call 'Father'.

Beatrice's daily routine involved helping her neighbor sell coffee at a coffee shop. In the evenings, she worked at a fast-food restaurant washing dishes. That's where she earned money to support herself. Although she often had to endure hunger and suppress many desires like girls her age, she was fortunate that her university, which recognized her outstanding academic performance despite coming from an underprivileged background, granted her a full scholarship until she graduated.

She wouldn't waste this opportunity, would she?

Unfortunately, Beatrice's dream of becoming a graduate was abruptly halted when four people entered her rented house. They ransacked it ruthlessly, searching for valuable items that Beatrice doubted could be found there. What could be in the three-room house filled with old furniture and belongings?

"What do you guys actually want?" Beatrice asked fearlessly. This wasn't the first or second time that the four of them had come to her house. They had come before, banging on her door in the middle of the night without any shame, demanding repayment of debts. Supposedly, her father had borrowed money for gambling. Beatrice felt that their visit this time was no different.

"Your damn father, Pretty Girl!" one of them said with a wicked grin. He stopped rummaging through the once-neat wardrobe. Beatrice had told him to stop, but it was useless. The four of them had absolutely no shame.

Wretched thugs! Beatrice cursed in her heart.

Hearing the nickname Pretty Girl, Beatrice felt like vomiting. She rolled her eyes with anger. She wasn't intimidated when the person who had spoken earlier stood in front of her. Her eyes continued to stare intently at the well-built man with a tattoo on his right arm.

"He owes a lot of money and hasn't paid up," he said, still with a wicked grin. "We're waiting to see if your father has the guts to come here or not."

Beatrice scoffed sarcastically. "You can wait until you rot. He's never coming back."

The four individuals glanced at each other, then burst into laughter that was so absurd and mocking. One of them even clapped as if what Beatrice had said was a hilarious joke.

The girl didn't care. She chose to step aside, freeing herself from these stubborn thugs. Before she could even reach the worn-out doorknob of her rented house, three people stood in front of her, including...

"Beatrice," a familiar man called softly.

Her father.

His face was bruised everywhere, his lips were torn, his temples had deep wounds that were oozing dried blood. Not to mention his disheveled clothes, stained with dirt on his chest, and torn in several places.

Did Beatrice feel sorry for him?

Not at all. In Beatrice's eyes, her father had long been dead. Just like her mother's death from illness ten years ago. In her eyes, Wayne, her father's name, was nothing more than a parasite that had often troubled her life.

"Beatrice, please help me, dear."

Beatrice moved away as her father suddenly approached to embrace her after being released by the two individuals earlier. One of them had been eyeing Beatrice with great interest since the beginning. It was as if Beatrice was a delicious meal ready to be devoured whenever desired. But Beatrice didn't care about him either.

She only returned to grab her bag from one corner of the room. She chose to leave because she knew that her father's debts were always dealt with by that tattooed dragon thug. She wouldn't want to get involved. Was Beatrice a money vault, after all?

"Where are you going, dear?" Wayne asked, surprised, as his daughter, his only hope of escaping from these thugs, stepped away. "Are you going to abandon your father? Is that it?"

"Deal with your own problems," Beatrice said softly. Her steps didn't falter at all. It wasn't the first or second time her father had behaved like this. How long would Beatrice be used as a crutch? If it were just once and her father truly found redemption, did things right, and didn't cause trouble, Beatrice might not hesitate to offer resistance.

But her father?

Goodness! Even if she were beaten in front of him, Beatrice might already be numb.

"Move aside," Beatrice said. Her steps paused as a strong hand blocked her path. When the long-haired girl turned around, their eyes met in the air. Even though it was only for a split second, Beatrice knew that the gaze didn't tolerate any contradiction. It exuded an overwhelming aura of intimidation. He seemed to be the leader of the thugs; Samuel.

"You can't leave," he said softly but it sent a chilling atmosphere all around. Beatrice herself no longer dared to meet his gaze for too long because she felt as if her throat were being choked, even though no hand was near her. "Listen to your father's words."

"It doesn't matter. Your business is not my concern," Beatrice retorted.

The man, Sam, burst into laughter. It was quite noisy. But no one else joined in the laughter; instead, they bowed their heads. Was this a sign of danger? But why?

"Speak, you bastard!" Sam snapped while grabbing Wayne's body. "Enough with the empty talk. I've wasted a lot of time dealing with you alone, you bastard!"

"Beatrice, your father owes up to a hundred million dollars," Wayne said with a trembling voice. Meanwhile, Beatrice maintained her cold expression. Did her father think she had money to spare? She didn't. So why was he talking as if she were the one responsible for the debt? How convenient.

Beatrice was certain that the amount of money involved included an exorbitant interest. These loan shark thugs should have been wiped off the face of the earth a long time ago. Why were they still around?

"Beatrice has the money to pay, right, dear?" Wayne glanced at his daughter, his eyes filled with hope. Occasionally, a whimper escaped and reached the girl's ears. Perhaps due to her frustration and disappointment with Wayne's behavior all this time, Beatrice could only muster a thin smile. "No, I don't."

"It must be in your bag!" Wayne concluded nervously. He didn't care if there was a continuation of the drama where Beatrice scolded him. What he cared about was getting free from Sam and his cronies today.

"What's wrong with you, Dad?" Beatrice exclaimed in disbelief. She pulled her bag back, which had been on her shoulder the whole time. This scene was observed only by the thug who had been watching this family drama.

"Let go!" Beatrice firmly demanded.

"It's in this bag, Sam. I'm sure my daughter is keeping the money here!"

"Let go!" Beatrice continued to defend her bag.

After a while, Sam let them continue their futile struggle over the old red bag. However, he couldn't stay there for too long. He acted swiftly, snatching the bag that had been the subject of the tug-of-war between father and daughter.

"Hey!" Beatrice glared, unwilling to accept defeat.

Sam looked into the bag he now held and found nothing but books, some stationery, and a jacket. He didn't care. Seeing that, he slammed the bag along with its contents onto the floor.

"What a waste of my time!" he shouted loudly. Then, he grabbed Beatrice's face tightly. "You... I'll give you one day to come up with the money I want."

Beatrice spat in Sam's face. "No way! It's not my debt. Take this old man with you and make him take responsibility."

Was Sam angry?

Not at all. Ever since he first saw Beatrice, there was something different about the girl he was now staring at so intently. The pitch-black gaze, which turned out to be even more beautiful up close, stirred something within him, something that made him incredibly curious.

Sam felt an urge to confine and punish this girl himself, without anyone else knowing what kind of punishment he would administer.

"You better watch your words when you talk to me." Sam rarely called someone by a familiar nickname, but for some reason, his lips uttered these words in front of Beatrice. He wanted to think more, but time was running out. "Consider this debt as your guarantee. I'm giving you twenty-four hours to free yourself. But if that time runs out, you're mine, Miss Beautiful."

"Jerk!"

"Your mouth really deserves to be punished," Sam wanted so badly to injure the lips that had just insulted him. Making a small cut on the corner of the girl's lip wouldn't be difficult for him, but Sam refrained from doing so. "Wait for my revenge, you. I'll make your lips understand the language of punishment!"

Then the tall man left just like that, followed by his henchmen who looked at Beatrice with a fierce and disdainful gaze. Though Beatrice's heart was filled with anxiety, she tried not to care. She directed her anger, which had consumed her, towards her father. As a result, their argument was eventually broken up by the neighbors.

Beatrice thought that the threat was just empty words until she returned home from campus, only to be intercepted by the thugs again. Beatrice didn't have that much money. She also refused to believe that the money she had gathered was solely for paying her father's debt. She would never agree to that.

Right, wasn't it just an empty threat? Their car immediately left after Beatrice insisted on not paying her father's debt. She also ignored the threat of being used as collateral.

However... the threat became a reality.

That night, Beatrice was forcibly dragged out of her rented house. Her father could only watch without being able to help. No matter how much Beatrice cursed, screamed for help, and swore that she would never forgive her father's actions, she was still pulled by the thugs.

Now, this was the place.

She wiped away the sudden tears. The pain she felt in her chest was nothing compared to the disappointment and anger she had. Beatrice herself didn't know what time it was now. A sense of drowsiness began to overwhelm her. She slowly moved to the available corner with a makeshift floor mattress, just to close her eyes for a moment.

Just as she was about to lie down, accompanied by a groan and cautious movements to avoid further pain on her chest, the room door swung wide open. Bright light from outside flooded in, making Beatrice squint. She immediately got up from her lying position. After gaining control of the situation, Beatrice focused her eyes on the figure standing at the door.

"Missed me?"

Beatrice took a wide step forward. Her hand clenched tightly, ready to strike the man's face, but... her movement was abruptly halted.

"Wow! Big fan of aggressive girls, huh?" Sam said with a smirk. He took a step closer, causing Beatrice to take a few steps back. She struggled to free her hand from his grasp.

What did Sam do?

Of course, he didn't do anything.

"Come with me!" he ordered, without room for refusal.

"Let go, you bastard!"

Sam didn't care.

"Damn it! Crazy thug!"

Sam enjoyed the insults but kept pulling Beatrice with a strong grip. She was like a prisoner ready to be tortured whenever he pleased.

"Let go, you bastard!"

"I've been patient enough. If you insult me again, don't regret it when I get rough with you tonight!"