Chapter 7 Chapter Seven
Debt Unpaid
Valenticia's Pov:
I was unable to look away from the guy.
It wasn’t only that he was handsome — he was the kind of handsome that commanded attention. His features were sharp, precise, almost frigid, but in a way that invited me closer rather than pushing me away. There was something magnetic about him, an aura that made it difficult not to watch, even when there was a kind of chill that emanated from him.
I hadn’t even noticed I was still staring at him until I felt my heart start racing. How can one person be this fking handsome? The way he moved, the smoldering need behind his eyes it was as if he had walked in from a different world. I slowly moved my eyes from his face down to his chest.
He wore a suit — no, not any suit. Navy blue, the sort of fabric that let you know it was expensive the moment you laid eyes on it. It wrapped around his tall frame just right, tracing the brawniness of his shoulders, and the tightness of his body. He looked like a man to whom respect was paid, like the world bent around him.
I felt my gaze involuntarily drawn to how far his legs were spread apart, comfortably positioned in such a way that suggested he had dominion over everything at that moment. And it wasn’t so much that he was trying to be intimidating, but the gravity of his presence was enough that I felt insignificant standing next to him.
My breath caught in my throat as my gaze darted back to his face. His cold gaze settled on mine for one second and a shiver coursed through me. It wasn’t just indifference; it was something much more calculated, something colder. It startled me, made me freeze, as though I was caught doing something wrong. I immediately shifted my gaze to the front, embarrassed to have been staring at him like that.
My gaze landed on the driver, who sat stiffly in the front seat, hands on the wheel, eyes on the road ahead. Then, to my surprise, I saw someone else in the passenger seat next to him. I hadn’t even seen that person when I was first forced into the car. Who were they? I couldn’t wrap my head around the situation. What am I doing here, in this car with these men?
But the man across from me? I knew one thing for certain: he was no regular person. I squirmed in my seat awkwardly, attempting to calm my thoughts, but a searing pain coursed through my leg that made me draw in a sharp breath. I winced and my hand darted out to retrieve it. That was when I noticed how badly bruised my leg had become from when I stopped running. The bruises were, swollen and throbbing. I gritted my teeth and tried to bear it, though the pain was nearly unbearable. I needed to concentrate and needed to be in thought. I could not show weakness, not to him, not now.
When I winced again, something clicked in my head. I hadn’t thanked him. I hadn’t even said thank you.
I cleared my throat, attempting to regain some small dignity. I scratched the back of my ear nervously and looked at him. But he wasn’t looking at me. His gaze was glued to his phone, his fingers tapping as if I didn’t exist. His indifference was so charming.
I swallowed and spoke. “Uhm, … thank you,” I began, my voice a whispery rush. “Thank you for saving me. I kind of don’t —” My voice trailed off when I saw his icy demeanor. He didn’t even look up. “Thank you very much,” I said, my voice trailing off.
Still, nothing. No response.
I held my breath. Is he just going to pretend that I don't exist? Had I done something wrong? He hadn’t admitted a word; he hadn’t spoken of what had just occurred. Was this the type of person he was?
Finally, he spoke. But his voice was devoid of warmth, it didn’t offer the comfort I was seeking. “Oh,” he said, without looking up from his phone.
I blinked, caught off guard. What was that? That was it? Oh? My chest tightened. I felt as if I was waiting for something more than an acknowledgment, anything. But I felt dismissed instead.
Before I could say any more, his voice pierced the air in a low tone, “You promised that you would pay me back.” He didn’t even look at me while he spoke, his attention still on his phone, “How do you intend to do that?”
My heart stuttered. Repay him? What did he mean? Was he serious?
I froze, still grappling with the fact that he hadn’t even finished pulling me out of danger yet. I hadn’t even thanked him properly, not really. And now, there he was, asking for repayment? I was stunned. My mind stirred, but before I could process something smart he looked at me and squinted a little.
“Yes?” You don’t want to keep your promise?” he asked his voice like ice.
No, I certainly didn’t want to go back on my word. I wasn’t like that. I would repay him, somehow, but… how could I do that when I didn’t know what he wanted?
“No, no, I’m not that type of person,” I stuttered, the words tumbling out. “I will repay you. I promise.”
He laughed then, a low noise that grazed my spine. “How will you repay me?” he asked, with an almost amused tone.
I could only look at him, not knowing what to say next.
I couldn’t help but glance around the car’s interior, feeling out of place. While I wasn’t the most knowledgeable person when it came to cars, I could see this one was expensive — luxurious, even. The leather seats, the polished wood. But trying not to look at his wrist. His watch, also expensive, was probably worth more than everything I owned in my entire life. The suit he was wearing, the car, the watch — all of it screamed wealth and power, and I couldn't comprehend how someone like myself could ever even be in the same room as him.
But there was more that bothered me — what could I ever offer him in return?
All I could think of was money, but he didn’t look like someone who needed it. I wasn’t able to simply tell him I would pay him back with my body, either — it felt like an impossibility. Oh, and suggesting a business deal was stupid because I had no idea what he even did for a living.
I racked my brain for some sort of solution. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to leave him hanging, but nothing felt right. I was increasingly frustrated with myself.
Then, after the stillness, his voice returned, cold and measured. “It’s difficult to tell, right?
I nodded hastily, in more shame by the second. “Yes,” I admitted. “I don’t know what you want.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything more. Then, with a stare of absolute indifference, he spoke again. “Get out of my car.”
I froze. What?
“You want me to leave?” I exclaimed, unable to disguise my surprise. “But I have no way to repay you, are you just going to toss me out?”
“Why are you so petty?” I pleaded, hoping to get him to see. “I’m not thinking of anything at the moment. Doesn’t that mean you could just say what you want? What if something happens to me out there? What if I die? You'll remain guilty for your entire life.”
He gazed at me, his eyes as cold as ever. “I don’t know you. You said you’d pay me back, and now you don’t want to? Why should would I feel guilty?”
I thought I must be hearing things. “What do you want?” I said, frustration bubbling over.
He gave me a flat look. “Since you have nothing to say, get out of the car.”
I shook my head. “I can’t.”
As I was yet to say anything further, the man in the ride's front seat interjected. “Miss, we’re in town. It is a busy area, and you may take a taxi or call your family. That’s why the boss said you can stay out here.”
I looked up, finally noticing the busy street outside. People walked past, cars tooting as they drove by it was most definitely a busy place. Reality set in, and I knew there was no use in arguing any longer. He had made up his mind.
I stared into the man one last time, my mind filled with confusion and frustration. “I owe you one,” I said, in a steady voice.
And then, exhaling deeply, I opened the door and stepped into the busy street.....