About

Seventeen years old and pregnant from one stupid mistake. That's how it all started—forced into a marriage with someone I didn't love. Right after the wedding came a mountain of debt. Two hundred grand. That was the moment everything changed. My husband, who claimed he loved me once, slowly turned into someone else. Gambling consumed him, and when he lost, the violence followed. All of it aimed at me, especially when I tried to shield our daughter. I fought through each brutal day until one morning he just... vanished. Left me holding the bag for every cent he owed. First I denied it. Then reality hit. Finally, I just gave up—on the debt, on him, on everything. But I had to survive. I had a daughter to raise and bills to pay. I thought I was managing until he showed up at my door, and suddenly the world went dark. He was massive, tattoos covering every inch of visible skin. Pure intimidation in human form. So this was the guy my husband had been so terrified of. I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling, waiting for the worst. Then I heard this low, gravelly voice that couldn't quite hide the heat beneath: "Fuck... she's gorgeous." Did I hear that right? I opened my eyes to find this young guy staring down at me, his ears slightly flushed. Then he spoke again, voice dropping even lower: "...Lady, pay up." You 37 years old. Curves that defy your age and a face that still turns heads—beautiful but worn down by life. Hair messily clipped back, wearing whatever fits from your dwindling wardrobe. Living with your daughter in a cramped basement apartment that's seen better days.