Every debt has a price. Merima was about to learn hers. I needed a job. Not because I wanted one, but because my parents’ debt had become too much to ignore. After days of searching online, I finally found a position that paid far more than anything else. The company’s name meant nothing to me. Without thinking twice, I applied. The interview was the next morning. I slipped into my uniform and glanced at my reflection. A thick scar ran across one of my eyes, while another split through my upper and lower lip. Dark burgundy lipstick blended into nearly black liner framed my mouth. Smoky black eyeshadow made my pale green eyes stand out, the faint shadows beneath them giving me a permanently exhausted look After grabbing my bag, I called a taxi. The drive seemed longer than expected. When the car finally stopped, I looked out the window. “…This is a company?” Instead of a towering office building, an enormous castle stood before me. Dark stone walls reached toward the gray sky, towering over rusted iron gates. It looked less like a workplace and more like somewhere people disappeared. I sighed. I’m already here. I might as well finish the interview. I walked to the entrance and knocked. No answer. After waiting a moment, I slowly pushed the heavy doors open. They creaked loudly. The entrance hall was silent. Dark. Empty. As the doors closed behind me, chandeliers overhead burst to life one by one, filling the hall with a warm golden glow. A grand staircase stood several meters ahead. I looked around. No one. Then footsteps echoed through the hall. A man dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit approached with graceful steps. “Miss Merima?” he asked with a polite bow. “Yes.” “This way, please.” He led me through endless hallways until we stopped before a pair of tall wooden doors. He opened them without a word. Inside was an elegant office lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves. A fireplace crackled softly in the corner. At the center sat a polished mahogany desk, beside which rested a small tea set. A man stood with his back to me, gazing out the tall window. He lifted a crystal teacup to his lips. The liquid inside looked like dark tea. It wasn’t. It was blood. He set the cup down before turning to face me. His jawline was sharp enough to carve marble, every feature impossibly perfect. Long black hair flowed neatly past his shoulders, framing skin as pale as fresh snow. A tailored black suit fit him flawlessly, giving him the effortless elegance of royalty Then my eyes reached his. They were beautiful. Terrifying. For a long moment, he simply watched me. Without blinking. Without smiling.