He looks at me, at my eyes. "I checked the logs. You run the logistics. You manage the routes. You are the only thing in this company that actually works."
He points to the door.
"So, here is the deal: Option A: I kick you out tonight. I liquidate the company. I sell the Blackwood Queen for scrap metal and fire every employee."
A sob catches in my throat.
TheBlackwood Queen. My mother's ashes were scattered off the deck of that ship. It’s her tombstone. If he scraps it...
"Or?" I whisper.
"Option B," he says. "We structure a deal. Since your father cannot pay what he owes in cash, and the company is underwater…"
He looks at me.
"You become the payment. You come and work for me. Use your skills to turn this sinking ship around. Every dollar of profit you generate goes to me until the debt is cleared."
"You want me to be your slave?" I hiss. "You think I'm going to walk out of here with you? I'm not going anywhere with a monster like you."
"I was hoping you would be sensible," he says with a sigh. "But I see you need motivation."
He reaches into his jacket.
Metal flashes in the dim light.
A gun.
My breath hitches.
Konstantin doesn't point it at me. He turns and walks over to my father. He presses the barrel of the gun against my father's forehead.
Arthur whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut. "No, please... Konstantin, please..."
"No!" I scream.
I lunge forward, but Konstantin's eyes stop me dead. In them, I see a man who has killed before and will do it again without a second thought.
"The debt is due, Helena," Konstantin says calmly.
He cocks the hammer. The click echoes in the silent hall. "The company is mine. The only question is the price."
He looks down at my father. "Tell her, Arthur. Tell her the terms of the bet and that you owe me the difference."
Arthur sobs, shaking violently. "Helena... please."
My heart is hammering in my throat. I stare at my father, waiting.
Tell him to go to hell, Dad,I beg silently.Tell him you won't let him take me. Tell him to pull the trigger before you let him touch a hair on my head.
I’m ready to fight, to swing the poker again. I just need him to give me the signal. I need him to be the father he was ten years ago.
"Dad?" I gape at him, my voice trembling. "Tell him no."
Arthur’s eyes meet mine, red-rimmed and shaken, but there’s no anger or protective rage in them.
He looks at the gun barrel pressed against the side of his head and then at me. He’s weighing his life against mine.
"He'll do it!" Arthur screams, tears streaming down his face. "He'll kill me! Just go!"
