Chapter 4

Elliot really was watching her. After seeing how she broke up with Owen, he finally realized—so this is how she ends things with people. Soft voice, hesitant farewell, that kind of reluctant sadness and helplessness—he could see it all clearly, even just standing there. So gentle. Not at all how she'd been with him. Elliot let out a dry laugh and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray by the hallway. As he walked past Owen, his steps slowed for a second—he'd caught a whisper from the man. "I'm not breaking up. No way I'm giving up on her..." Even though Owen was still stuck in his heartbreak, he could feel the overwhelming pressure from this stranger walking by. He glanced at the man—clean-cut, refined, practically screamed money—and hesitantly asked, "Who... who are you?" Someone like him, if he were from Draycott, Owen definitely would've heard of him. Elliot didn't answer. Just gave a fleeting glance and walked off like nothing happened. The impression he left behind though—too striking. Perfect looks, even sharper aura—and completely unfamiliar. Out of nowhere, Owen remembered what Charisse had said only minutes ago: "I like someone else now." Meanwhile, Charisse had just hopped into a cab, nearly shouting at the driver to floor it to Northgate General Hospital. Just half a minute earlier, she'd gotten a call from Claire Abbott. Her dad was in critical condition. By the time Charisse arrived, her father had already been rushed into emergency surgery. Her aunt Claire sat in the hallway, tears streaming down her face. "Aunt Claire, what happened? Dad was fine earlier today! How did it get like this all of a sudden?" Claire's eyes shifted, avoiding hers. "It was... Clayton's people." The name sounded like a punch in the gut. Calling Clayton Ellis a kingpin of Draycott was putting it lightly. He'd gotten rich off the shady business years ago, and even though he'd cleaned things up since, everyone knew he still had his hands in some underground pie—usury, for one. Charisse had seen the thugs he sent out to collect money—absolute nightmares. Thuggish, violent, and a few even drove people to their deaths. Total desperadoes. And unlucky them—her family had taken a loan from him. The principal had been paid off long ago, but the interest had ballooned to something massive. With Clayton's crew, debts like that weren't just forgiven. "So they came to collect again? That what made my dad so stressed he collapsed?" "No, not about the debt this time..." Claire's voice faltered. "It's..." She hesitated, lips trembling, before she finally forced it out. "Clayton said... he wants to marry you. If you agree, he'll write off all the debt—and cover your father's medical bills too." "To Clayton?" Charisse's voice shot up. "His son's over ten years older than me!" Claire kept her gaze low, clearly uncomfortable, wringing her hands. Charisse's face turned colder by the second. "Aunt Claire... please don't tell me you said yes."Claire froze, panicking as she stared at her. "Charisse, I didn't have a choice... I swear..." So she really had said yes. "I told you I'd figure something out about the debt, Aunt Claire. Was that really something you could just agree to on your own?" Claire broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. "Charisse, you didn't see those people. They had a knife to my throat and said they'd slit it if I didn't agree..." "And what could you do, really?" she continued, through her crying. "Look at how bad things are at home. You think there's anything a girl like you can do at this point? You've struggled for so long, has anything actually changed? No! You working part-time just isn't enough! Even me—I've been helping you all these years, and now I can't even afford your sister's tuition anymore, I—" "I get it, Aunt Claire." Charisse cut her off, her voice flat. "You don't have to continue." "Charisse, I'm not blaming you. I'm hurting too, okay?" Claire cried. "You're so young... you think I wanted you to marry some old guy in his fifties? But what else can we do? It's Clayton we're talking about! Even when your family was doing great, no one dared to mess with him—let alone now..." "And after you agreed, then what?" Charisse's voice was steady, almost too calm. "They said they'd be in touch. That was it." Charisse stayed silent for a while before she finally said, "Alright, Aunt Claire. Go get some rest." "But your dad..." "I'll stay with him. You should go." Claire tried a few more times to say something, but eventually left. Charisse let out a long breath, slumping against the cold hospital wall like all her energy had drained out of her. When she was four, Aunt Claire divorced and came to live with her mom. Her parents welcomed both her aunt and infant cousin into their home. For years, Aunt Claire and her cousin lived off her family. Her parents had always been generous with them, giving them the best they could. After her mom passed when she was seventeen, Aunt Claire became the closest thing to family she had left besides her dad. Charisse had leaned on her a lot back then. Even after the family went bankrupt, Aunt Claire still helped them out. But Charisse could feel it—things weren't the same anymore. That closeness was long gone. And now, it hit her hard—outside of her dad, she had no one left. She pulled out her phone and aimlessly scrolled through her contacts, not knowing who to call or talk to. Just then, a news alert popped up: a female body was found near Clearstone River at 7 p.m. A comment below read, "Bet it's Clayton' people again." But when she refreshed the page, the comment had vanished. Clayton. A name that had basically become code for the devil in Draycott.