Martins slammed his palm against the polished desk so hard that the sound cracked through the study like thunder.

The vibration seemed to travel through the walls. His eyes blazed with fire as he glared at the man standing across from him.

“What do you want from me, Dad?” His voice shook with fury.

Mr. Roberts stood tall, his broad shoulders casting a shadow across the room. The grand study seemed smaller with him in it. His presence was like a storm—loud, heavy, impossible to ignore. His sharp eyes burned with anger that matched his son’s.

“What do I want?” he roared, his voice deep and cutting. “The board wants me to step down. They say I’m too old. Do you know what that means, Martins? Do you even understand what’s at stake here?”

Martins’ jaw tightened. His fists curled tight by his sides. His chest heaved with every breath, rage bubbling higher inside him.

Mr. Roberts moved closer, each step slow and powerful, until he stood only inches away. His voice dropped low, but the words cut sharper than before.

“If I retire, we lose everything. The family name. The power. The respect I bled for. Do you want to stand there and watch me be humiliated in front of men who once trembled at my voice?”

Martins’ chest rose and fell in quick bursts. His voice came out like fire. “And what does that have to do with me? This is your company, your fight. Handle it yourself!”

The words stabbed like knives. His father’s face darkened, as if shadow itself had passed over him.

“Ungrateful boy!” he shouted, his veins standing at his temple. “You think you walk on this empire because of yourself? I built the ground you stand on. I gave you everything. And all I ask—one thing—is for you to marry, to secure this company’s future. But even that is too difficult for you.”

“I’m not ready for marriage!” Martins barked back, his voice breaking with heat. “You’ve known that for years. Find another way. Don’t drag me into your battle.”

Without giving his father another glance, Martins turned sharply and stormed out of the study.

Behind him, his father’s voice roared, shaking the walls. “Is this how you repay me for everything I gave you?”

The words followed Martins down the hallway, heavy and sharp, clinging to him like chains.

By the time he fell into the leather chair in his bedroom, his chest felt empty. He pressed a hand against his forehead, staring blankly at the ceiling above him.

“If he loses the company, it will destroy me too,” he muttered bitterly. “But marriage… that is the last thing I want.”

A knock came at the door.

“Come in,” he said, his voice low.

The door creaked open. Daniel, his assistant, stepped in carefully.

“Sir,” Daniel said quietly. “She has been brought just as you requested..”

Martins sat upright, his brows furrowed deep. His voice sharpened. “She?”

Daniel swallowed. “Jasmine. The girl you asked me to find.”

For a moment, silence filled the room. Martins’ chest tightened, his expression darkening as a storm flickered in his eyes.

“Bring her in,” he commanded.

******

Jasmine was pushed gently into the large room. She stumbled a little and quickly straightened herself, her eyes moving everywhere.

The room was grand. The floor was made of shining marble. Tall shelves filled with books reached almost to the ceiling. A huge desk sat in the middle, dark and heavy. The air itself felt rich and powerful.

That morning, she had gone to work with a heavy heart, the same way she did every day. Then Jason, Martin’s assistant, appeared again. This time, he was not alone. Three strong men stood beside him. Without asking, without explaining, he told them to take her.

She had struggled. She kicked, she fought, she begged them to let her go. But they were too strong. Her voice was ignored, her strength too small.

Now, more than thirty minutes later, she stood before the man who had given the order.

Martins was by the window, his hands in his pockets. His tall frame stood calm, but his presence filled the space.

Fear tightened in Jasmine’s stomach. But as she looked at him, her fear quickly turned into anger she could not control. She clenched her fists and glared.

“What is wrong with you?” she shouted. Her voice shook, but her eyes did not. “Do you think you can just drag me here like I am some toy? Let me go right now, or I will call the police!”

Martins turned slowly, his calm face hiding something sharp. His eyes locked on hers.

“You will not call the police.”

“Yes, I will!” Jasmine fired back, her breath short and quick. “I don’t care who you are. You cannot treat me like this!”

Martins walked to the desk. He opened a drawer, pulled out a thick folder, and dropped it on the table. The sound was heavy and loud.

“You want to call the police? Then explain this first.”

Jasmine frowned. Her eyes dropped to the folder. She stepped forward slowly, her hands shaking. The folder was open. She froze.

On the first page, in big red letters, was one word: DEBT.

Her eyes scanned the papers. Every page carried numbers, signatures, and harsh words. She saw her mother’s name again and again. Loan sharks. Huge interest. Threats written in the fine print.

Her lips trembled. Her breath caught.

“No…” she whispered. She shook her head hard. “This is not real. It cannot be real.”

“It is very real,” Martins said. His voice was low, steady, and cold. “Your mother owes them millions. They will not wait long before they come for her. And when they do, you cannot imagine how they will collect.”

Jasmine staggered back, clutching her chest as tears filled her eyes. Her voice came weak and broken.

“Why are you showing me this? What do you want from me?”

Martins’ jaw tightened. He stepped forward until he stood close, towering over her. His eyes never left her face.

“I want to give you a way out.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. She could only stare at him.

Martins’ next words came slow and heavy, each one like a stone.

“Marry me, Jasmine. Be my wife. That is the deal.”

Her knees weakened. Her breath stuck in her throat. She shook her head.

“Marry you? This… this is insane. You cannot be serious.”

“I am very serious,” Martins answered. His voice carried weight, the pressure of his father’s command and his own hidden desperation.

“Your mother’s debts will disappear. Her surgery will be paid for. You will never have to break your back with three jobs again. But in return, you will belong to me.”

Jasmine’s heart slammed against her chest. Her tears ran freely now. She shook her head again and again.

“You are cruel,” she whispered. “You know I cannot refuse. Mama’s life…” Her voice cracked into sobs.

For a moment, Martins’ face softened, his eyes showing something human. But quickly, the hardness returned.

“Cruel or not,” he said firmly, “this is the choice you have. The police will not help you. Money will not fall from the sky. You said you would do anything to save your mother. Then prove it.”