Eloise

The man had spoken so casually, like this was a meeting over coffee, not him sitting in my home with my brother bleeding on the floor.

I wanted to scream, to call the police, to do something, but the way he looked at me made my throat tighten. Those eyes promised danger. And I knew, deep down, that if I made one wrong move, Eian would pay for it.

I sat down slowly, never taking my eyes off him.

“Good girl,” he said, leaning back as though he owned the apartment. “Your brother owes us money. A lot of money. And you are going to pay it back.”

My stomach dropped. “How much?”

"Three hundred thousand dollars."

My mouth fell open. It was more than I made in a year at the café. Scratch that. My entire life

I turned to Eian, who groaned softly, barely lifting his head. Rage shot through me.

“Are you insane, Eian?!” I hissed. “What in the world made you think you could borrow that kind of money?”

“I—I thought I could fix it before you found out,” he muttered, his voice thick with pain.

“Fix it?!” My voice cracked. “Look at you! Does this look fixed to you?”

The man raised his hand, and I fell silent. “Enough. I don’t care for family drama. You have one week, Eloise. One week to get the money. Or next time, your brother won’t just be bruised. Do you understand?”

I nodded, my throat burning.

“Good.” He stood, smoothed his dark jacket, and walked to the door like he was leaving a business meeting. At the doorway, he paused. “One week. Don’t test me.”

Then he was gone.

I rushed to Eian, cradling his head. Tears blurred my vision. “What did you do, Eian?” I whispered again.

He sobbed quietly, his face pressed against my apron. “I just wanted to help us. I thought I could double it. I thought I was smart.”

“You’re not smart, you’re stupid!” I snapped, anger covering my fear. “How could you gamble with our lives like this?!”

His shoulders shook. I hated myself for yelling, but I couldn’t stop. The number the man had said—it wasn’t something I could just magically pull together.

I stayed awake all night, pacing, thinking, searching for options. There were none. I was trapped.

By morning, there was only one thing left to do.

I dug out an old number from my phone. I hadn’t dialed it in years. My fingers trembled as I pressed call.

It rang twice before a familiar voice answered. “Well, well. If it isn’t Eloise. I thought you were done with me.”

“Mac,” I whispered.

There was a beat of silence before laughter filled the line. “Oh, sweetheart. I knew you’d come back someday. What’s wrong? You sound desperate.”

I swallowed hard. “I need help.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Help? From me? That must mean you’re really out of options. Fine. Meet me tonight at Noir Club. Dress sexy, like in the old days. I’ll see what I can do.”

The call ended before I could respond.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the phone. My stomach twisted with shame. I had cut ties with Mac for a reason. He was trouble, all flashing smiles and dangerous deals. The “old days” he mentioned were not days I wanted to remember. But what choice did I have now?

That evening, I stood in front of the mirror, hating myself. My dress was too tight, my makeup heavier than usual. I looked like the version of Eloise I had buried years ago.

One night, I told myself. Just get the money. Save Eian. Then walk away forever.

The club was alive with pulsing lights and pounding music. Perfume, sweat, and alcohol mingled in the air. My heels clicked on the polished floor as I pushed through the crowd.

I found a small table in the corner and sat, trying not to look like I was falling apart inside. My hands wouldn’t stay still.

And then he walked in.

I noticed him instantly.

Tall, broad shoulders, brown hair falling neatly into place, and hazel eyes that seemed to catch the low light and glow. He was clean, polished, a sharp contrast to the smoky, gritty atmosphere of the club.

Our eyes met across the room.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I looked away quickly, my heart thudding.

No. Not now. This is not the time to notice someone.

Still, when I dared glance back, he was looking at me. My stomach flipped.

“Eloise!”

The familiar drawl broke the moment. I turned, and there was Mac.

He looked the same as always—slicked-back hair, a leather jacket, that dangerous grin that could charm and terrify at the same time.

“Well, well. You clean up nice,” he said, sliding into the seat opposite me. “Just like the old days.”

“Cut it out, Mac,” I muttered. “I didn’t come here for this.”

He leaned back, smirking. “Still fiery. I like that. So, you need help, huh?”

I clenched my fists. “My brother borrowed money from the wrong people. They want it back. I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Ah,” Mac said, nodding slowly. “Classic story. Don’t worry, Eloise. I’ve got a deal for you.”

My chest tightened. “What kind of deal?”

He leaned forward, his grin widening. “Simple job. Do it, and you’ll have more than enough money.”

“What job?”

He looked around the club, then lowered his voice. “Kidnapping.”

I froze. “Are you out of your mind?!”

“Shh,” he hissed, glancing around. “Keep your voice down. It’s an easy snatch. In and out. You don’t even have to do the heavy lifting—I’ll handle that. You just need to set it up.”

I shook my head furiously. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”

“You will,” he said, his voice firm. “Because otherwise, those men are going to destroy your life and your brother’s. Do you really think you can get that kind of money waitressing in a coffee shop?”

My throat closed. He was right, and he knew it.

“Who?” I whispered finally, dreading the answer.

Mac’s grin returned. He jerked his chin toward the crowd. “Turn around.”

And I did, going still when I did. It was him. The man from earlier, the handsome one with the hazel eyes. He was leaning against the bar, sipping a drink, unaware of me staring.

“That’s him,” Mac said softly. “Our target.”

I turned back to Mac.

“Are you freaking serious?” I breathed. “Not him.”

Mac’s smile was sharp like he was enjoying this. “Oh, yes. Him.”