Bought by the Billionaire: The Debt's Price

Elodie walked out of the stairwell into the lobby, her face scrubbed clean but her eyes red. She pushed through the revolving doors into the humid afternoon air.

Her phone buzzed. A notification from her bank app.

Alert: Supplementary Card ending in 4098 has been frozen by the primary account holder.

He didn't wait. He did it immediately.

Elodie stood on the sidewalk, people rushing past her. She had sixty dollars in cash and a maxed-out debit card.

She hailed a cab. She gave the address of the nursing home. It was a reckless expense, but she needed to see her mother. She needed to remember why she was enduring this hell.

When she arrived at The Willows, the head nurse, Mrs. Higgins, was waiting at the reception.

"Ms. Sinclair," Mrs. Higgins said, her face sympathetic but firm. "We just tried to process the monthly retainer. It was declined."

Elodie's blood ran cold. She knew the facility's monthly retainer was auto-drafted from the supplementary card. A bill that was due today. She had been racing against the clock, hoping to secure the translation gig's cash payment before the charge went through. But she was too late. "There's been a mistake with the bank," she lied, her voice steady. "I'm sorting it out."

"We can give you a grace period of forty-eight hours. But after that... corporate policy is strict."

"I know. I'll have it."

Elodie walked to Room 304. Her mother lay in the bed, staring blankly at the window. She was frail, a ghost of the vibrant socialite she used to be. The stroke had taken everything.

Elodie sat by the bed and held her mother's limp hand. "I'm sorry, Mama," she whispered. "I'm trying."

She sat there for an hour, watching the slow rise and fall of her mother's chest.

She needed an ally. She needed someone who hated Braxton as much as she did. Someone with resources.

She pulled out her phone. She opened the Instagram message from Kiana. The photo of Ansel.

She found his profile. It was private, but there was a message button.

Her thumb hovered over the screen. Contacting him was dangerous. If Braxton found out...

He already froze the money, she thought. He already declared war.

She typed.

Ansel. It's Elodie. I heard you're back. I'd love to buy you a coffee. For old times' sake.

She hit send before she could lose her nerve.

She expected to wait hours.

The reply came in thirty seconds.

Elodie. I was hoping you'd reach out. Coffee isn't enough. Dinner? The Blue Note. 8 PM.

The Blue Note. Their old spot.

Elodie stared at the screen. A mix of hope and terror swirled in her gut.

I'll be there, she typed.

She stood up and kissed her mother's forehead. "I'm going to fix this, Mama."

She walked out of the facility with a new energy. She wasn't just a victim anymore. She was a player.

Back in his office, Braxton watched the tracking dot on his screen moving away from the nursing home.

"Geoff," he said.

"Sir?"

"She's moving. Where is she going?"

Geoff checked his own tablet. "She just sent a text. Encrypted app."

Braxton slammed his fist on the desk. "Decrypt it."

"It'll take time, sir."

Braxton stood up and walked to the window. He looked out at the city that he owned. But he couldn't own her thoughts. And that terrified him.