Cruel Debt

Book 1 of the Indebted to the Billionaire trilogy.

What I take, I don’t give back.

I’ve been patient. Years of planning. Years of watching.

Now she’s exactly where I need her. Desperate. Drowning in debt. Ready to sign anything.

One contract. One year. Her complete submission.

Lena Hughes thinks she’s selling her body to save her family’s legacy. She doesn’t know I’m the one who engineered her ruin.

She’s meant to be my revenge. My possession. Nothing more.

But when she kneels before me, defiant even in surrender, instinct overrides intent.

The wolf wants more than payback. And the predator who planned her destruction is fighting a far more dangerous instinct.

To keep her. Forever.

Cruel Debt is a dark billionaire romance with a possessive alpha hero, and intense sensual scenes. Book 1 in the Indebted to the Billionaire trilogy. Ends on a cliffhanger.

Excerpt

LENA

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I dashed behind one of the stone columns that supported the grand multi-story ceiling of the main lobby. Peeking around the edge, I made sure my father wasn’t lurking before I made my way across the room, rushing past the fountain near the hotel entry toward the restaurant on the other side.

I gave the hostess a quick wave as I slipped past her toward the kitchens.

“Hey Ratty!” I greeted my favorite line cook as he lifted a basket of fresh fries from the fryer. My mouth watered. Oil dripped from the crispy bits of golden potato goodness.

“Right on time, Lena.” Ratty winked and dumped the fries into a giant metal bowl, tossing them with salt and herbs. He grabbed a plate, scooped up a generous heap, and topped it with an avalanche of cheese. A quick wipe of the plate’s edge, and he slid it across the stainless steel prep bench toward me.

I popped a steaming hot fry into my mouth and groaned, my eyes rolling back. Ratty did it again. His name was actually Patrick, but the kitchen staff called him Ratty because he resembled the rat from Ratatouille. He took it as a compliment.

“Two lobster bisques, three everything burgers, one medium rare, one well-done with extra fries!” called out one of the waitresses.

Ratty wiped his hands on the white apron tied around his waist. “Run along now. Your father will have my head if he sees that plate.”

I gave him two thumbs up and let him get back to work with a wave of thanks. Holding my plate of delicious treasure close, I tried not to draw attention to myself as I made my way back to the elevators.

After his last doctor’s visit put the fear of mortality into my father, he’d gone on a health kick and forbidden anything fried or containing cholesterol from our apartment kitchen. One week into his new diet, I was already sick of flavorless everything-free health food. I was ready to rob the nearest pizza joint and dive face-first into a greasy pepperoni pizza.

The elevator doors opened with a ding just as I approached. I slipped inside. The elevator man pressed the button for the second floor, and the doors closed in front of us. He gave my plate a knowing look, the corner of his lip twitching, but I knew he wouldn’t give away my secret.

The elevator doors opened on the second floor. I poked my head out and peered down both sides of the hallway. To the left was my father’s office. To the right, the spa where Sophie worked. The hallway was empty. I scurried to the spa and flipped the door sign to CLOSED behind me.

Mission accomplished. Home free with my smuggled goods.

I held up my plate as an offering as I entered.

“Ooh, that smells divine. Hand it over.” Sophie made grabbing motions toward my fries before I’d even sat down.

“That’s it? Not even a hello?”

Sophie raised an eyebrow and waved a fry at me in mock salute. She’d worked at the hotel spa as a masseuse for nearly two decades, since before my mother died. In that time, she’d become something like a surrogate older sister, guiding me through my awkward teenage years in ways my father couldn’t.

The spa was one of the quieter areas of the hotel where we could chat without being disturbed. Everything was by appointment and restricted to guests only, from massages and facials to soaks in the hot spring pools.

Sophie headed to the drinks cart and started the tea kettle. “Chamomile or mint today?”

“Chamomile. I need some calming vibes.”

“Coming right up.” She plopped a tea bag into each cup and topped them off with boiling water.

“Thanks.” I took the cup of fragrant tea gratefully and sipped.

“Have you and Joe decided what you’re going to do once you leave for Huntington Harbor?”

I shoved another fry in my mouth and sighed. This was going to be my last year at home before college in the fall. I’d taken two gap years after high school, telling myself I needed time to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. The truth was, I still didn’t know. But Papa had finally put his foot down about me “drifting,” so Huntington Harbor it was. He had a private jet, so I could fly home to Paradise Peaks on holidays and breaks, but my relationship with Joe was a whole other matter.

“I don’t know.” I dragged a fry along the plate, mopping up the seasoning. “I’m not opposed to a long distance relationship, but Joe’s getting anxious. He wants more. I can feel it.”

Joe’s family ran an investment firm in Paradise Peaks, and he was being trained to take over from his father. Trips to visit me at school would be impossible. As it was, he was already pressuring me to sleep with him as a test of my commitment.

Sophie set down her tea and fixed me with a look. “Define ‘more.'”

I stared at my fries. “He says if I really loved him, I’d want to. That I’m being a tease by making him wait.” The words tasted sour coming out. “He brought up prom again. How I wouldn’t go back to his place after. Like I owe him something.”

“You don’t owe him a damn thing.” Sophie’s voice sharpened. “Your body, your choice. Full stop.”

“I know that. Logically.” I picked at a piece of cheese. “But sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with me. All my friends have already… you know. And here I am, twenty years old, and the thought of it just…” I trailed off, not sure how to explain the knot that formed in my stomach whenever Joe’s hands wandered too far.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Lena.” Sophie reached over and squeezed my hand. “Some people need to feel safe first. Need to trust someone completely. That’s not a flaw. That’s wisdom.”

“What if I never feel that way about anyone?”

Sophie laughed softly. “Oh, honey. When the right person comes along, you’ll know. Your whole body will know. It won’t feel like pressure or obligation. It’ll feel like a question you can’t wait to answer.”

I wasn’t sure I believed her, but I wanted to.

“You don’t have to do anything unless you’re sure. If he loves you, he’ll wait.” She pointed a fry at me. “Remember, you hold the power here. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet some other guy at that fancy school. Plenty of rich fish in the sea.”

I felt my cheeks warm. Sophie knew I was a virgin. I’d thought I wanted Joe to be my first, but now that time was running out, I was getting cold feet.

Not for the first time, I wished I could be as strong and sure of my convictions as Sophie. Her fiery red hair, threaded with silver at the temples, was pinned up in an elegant French twist. People often mistook her for being in her thirties, but she’d confessed to me once that she was closer to fifty. Good genes and better skincare, she’d said with a wink. Next to her effortless elegance, I felt like an unkempt schoolgirl.

We finished our fries, leaving not even a bit of cheese on the plate. Despite wanting to stay for the latest gossip she’d heard from her clients, I left Sophie so she could prepare for her next appointment.

While I waited for the elevator, I pulled out my phone and checked for missed messages.

Joe had been running hot and cold lately. Another glacial phase, apparently. Our relationship was like the Titanic, approaching a hidden iceberg. Or maybe it had already crashed, and we were sinking into frigid depths.

The only text was from Clara, my cousin and best friend.

Sorry I missed your birthday. 🙁
We closed the deal ahead of schedule so I’ll be back from Paris soon.
Let me know when you’re free, and I’ll throw you a belated birthday party!

A shout came from the direction of my father’s office. Then something that sounded like glass shattering. I put away my phone, all thoughts of my birthday pushed aside.

More angry shouting. I recognized my father’s voice, but not the male voice that responded.

I crept toward the office, stepping gently so they wouldn’t hear my approach. Once I was close enough, I pressed my ear to the door and held my breath.

“Nothing you say will change my mind,” my father said.

“You will regret this, Hughes.” The stranger’s voice was calm. Cool. But something underneath made my skin prickle. A dangerous promise wrapped in silk.

The door flew open.

I jumped back just in time to avoid falling on my face. My father stepped out, and panic swept across his features when he saw me.

“Lena, darling! What are you doing here?”

I hugged him and gave him a peck on the cheek. I noticed the stress lines on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes. My father looked old. Frail.

“I was bored, so I came down to talk to Sophie.”

A tall man with dark hair stepped out of the office behind my father.

He went completely still when he saw me. Not the stillness of surprise. The stillness of a predator sighting prey. No fidgeting, no shifting weight. Just absolute, unnatural motionlessness. Even his chest didn’t seem to move with breath.

His eyes found mine. For a split second, something surfaced in their depths. A flash of gold, gone so fast I must have imagined it. A trick of the hallway lighting.

Predatory intensity radiated from the way he looked at me. His towering figure seemed to fill the hallway, to swallow the air around him. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to step back, so I did.

He noticed. The corner of his mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. More like a wolf watching a rabbit freeze.

“Lena, this is Raphael Antonov, a business associate.”

His nostrils flared slightly as he breathed in. Assessing me? Dismissing me? Something about it felt oddly intimate, like he was taking in more than just air. Like he was cataloging my scent, filing it away for future reference.

“I heard you’re twenty now, Lena. Happy belated birthday.” Something about the way my name rolled off his tongue felt like a caress and a threat at the same time. His voice dropped lower, meant only for me. “Such a significant age. So many… possibilities opening up.”

My father’s face turned a sickly pallor. Whatever hold this man had over him, it scared my father to his core.

As the properly raised daughter of a hotel magnate, I shook his outstretched hand despite every alarm bell going off in my head.

The moment our skin touched, heat shot up my arm. His palm was fever-hot, burning against mine like he’d been standing too close to a fire. No one ran that hot naturally. But he showed no signs of fever, just that impossible warmth radiating from his skin like he burned from the inside out.

He held on a moment longer than necessary, his grip firm but not painful. The pad of his thumb traced across the back of my hand, slow and unhurried, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Something stirred low in my belly. Something I didn’t want to examine too closely.

I caught a hint of his scent. Leather and sandalwood, rich and dark, with something underneath I couldn’t name. Something that made my pulse quicken.

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Antonov.” My voice came out steadier than I felt.

“Please. Raphael.” His gaze tracked my movements even though his head never turned. That unsettling awareness again, like he could sense exactly where I was without needing to look. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other. I have a feeling your father and I are going to reach an understanding. One way or another.”

His thumb traced one final circle on my palm before he released me. The gesture felt deliberate. Possessive. Like he was marking territory.

“Such soft skin.” His voice dropped to a murmur only I could hear. “I wonder if it marks as easily as it blushes.”

He turned to my father, but his final words were clearly meant for me to hear.

My palm tingled where he’d touched me. I resisted the urge to rub it against my jeans.

“I will give you time to reconsider my offer, Richard.” His eyes slid to me for just a moment, a look that made my skin prickle with awareness. “Though I should mention, my patience has limits. And the longer you make me wait, the more… creative my terms become.”

Was that a threat? I had no idea what type of business my father was involved in with this man, but my gut told me he was dangerous in ways I couldn’t name. The kind of dangerous that made you want to run. The kind that made some traitorous part of you want to stay.

The elevator arrived. The doors opened with a ding that echoed in the silent hallway.

Saved by the bell.

“No need for an escort. I know the way out.” Raphael paused at the elevator doors and turned back to look at me. His eyes traveled down my body, slow and thorough, lingering in ways that made heat rise to my cheeks. When his gaze returned to my face, he smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile. It was the smile of a man who’d just seen something he intended to acquire.

“Until we meet again, Lena. I look forward to knowing you… better.”

The doors closed behind him.

I didn’t exhale until they did.

“What was that about, Papa?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty head about, Lena.” He cupped my cheeks and gave me a warm smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Have you been good today? You haven’t been bothering the staff?”

Whoever that man was, he obviously wasn’t up for discussion.

“Of course not. I’ve been sorting what I want to bring with me to the dorms.” Even though I was legally an adult, my father still treated me like the little girl who used to run around the hotel playing hide and seek with the housekeeping staff.

The phone in his office rang, demanding his attention.

I smiled at him. Business beckoned. My father never had a day off. “I’ll let you get back to work. I still have a lot of packing to do.”

I rode the elevator up to the private apartment I shared with my father. The top floor was reserved for the presidential suite, but we had the entire floor below it to ourselves and a 360-degree view overlooking Paradise Peaks.

The deliciously warm and sweet aroma of freshly baked oatmeal raisin cookies greeted me as soon as I walked through the front door.

Following my nose, I found our housekeeper humming a familiar melody as she drizzled icing over rows of cookies on a cooling rack.

“That smells like delicious contraband, Marjorie.”

I grabbed one of the cookies and took a big bite. Moaning in contentment, I savored the buttery rich sugar on my tongue.

“If your father asks, this is a healthy, well-balanced meal.”

“How do you figure?”

“Oatmeal is high in fiber and good for heart health. There’s enough raisins for several servings of fruit. And cinnamon has been proven to lower blood sugar levels.” She ticked off each point on her flour-dusted fingers. “All very healthy and balanced.”

I nodded sagely at her logic.

“I’m sure Papa will agree.” I popped the last bite into my mouth and grabbed another cookie off the rack. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Marjorie. You’re a lifesaver.”

Marjorie had worked for our family since before I was born. After my mother’s death, she was the closest thing I had to a maternal figure. She was as much family as if she were my real grandmother.

I walked into my room and grimaced at the mountain of clothes still piled on my bed. On the floor beside it, my half-packed suitcase taunted me. This was going to be my first time living away from home, and part of me wanted to take everything.

Fishing out my bikini, I tossed it back onto the pile. Wouldn’t need it. The beaches in Huntington Harbor were covered in hard pebbles with frigid cold waters. Not a lot of sunbathing in my future.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose.

I froze, my hand still outstretched toward the clothing pile.

Slowly, I turned and looked out my bedroom window. The lake below. The tall pine trees surrounding it. I scanned the tree line, the shoreline, the shadows between the pines.

Something was watching me.

Not just watching. Hunting.

The feeling was primal. Animal. Like prey sensing a predator hidden in the brush. My heart beat faster, my breathing shallow. Every nerve ending sparked with the urge to run, hide, make myself small.

But run from what? Hide from what?

The day was calm and windless, the surface of the lake smooth as a mirror. Nothing moved in the forests. No birds startled from the trees. No deer emerged from the underbrush. The silence felt intentional. Heavy. Like the woods themselves were holding their breath.

In the distance, mountain peaks wore white snow tops that wouldn’t melt until late summer. The view was the same one I’d looked at my entire life.

So why did it suddenly feel like something was looking back?

I shook my head. The hotel had one-way windows. My room was too high up for anything to be visible from ground level. I was being ridiculous. Paranoid. Too much time spent watching true crime documentaries with Sophie.

I forced myself to turn away from the window.

But the feeling didn’t fade. It clung to my skin like a static charge, like the air before a storm. That prickling awareness that something had changed. That something was coming.

Despite the sinking sensation in my belly, there was no way anybody out there could see into my room.

No way at all.