Sera hadn't slept a wink. Those flimsy curtains in her little apartment didn't block the moonlight and her mind raced like the city outside. Dimitri Volkov's icy voice still echoed, each word a knife twisting in her gut.

She didn’t tell her grandmother about the meeting. What could she say? That their lives now hung by a thread? That no matter how many flowers she sold, it wouldn’t be enough? Elena already worrying too much and Sera refused to let her shoulder this burden. It was hers and hers alone.

By dawn, Sera was out of bed, her movements robotic as she prepared for another day at the square. She couldn’t afford to waste time. Every petal, every coin counted. Yet, deep down, she knew it wouldn’t matter. Dimitri wasn’t the type of man who waited.

○●○

The market was already alive when she arrived, vendors shouting their prices and customers haggling for better deals. Sera set up shop in her usual spot, arranging the flowers with shaky hands. She plastered on a smile when her first customer, an elderly man buying daisies for his wife, came up.

“Such beautiful flowers,” he said, handing her the money. “They remind me of my youth.”

Sera thanked him softly, her mind elsewhere. Each sale gave her a little hope, but the huge debt she owed crushed it right away. By noon, her stomach growled with hunger, but she ignored it. She had more important things to worry about.

As the sun climbed higher, the crowd thinned and Sera allowed herself a moment of rest. She leaned against her cart, wiping the sweat from her brow. Her thoughts drifted back to Dimitri. What kind of man could hold so much power? She had heard stories, People whispered about how ruthless he was, how he totally ran that city. But sitting in front of him had been something else entirely. He wasn't just dangerous, he was a total disaster waiting to happen.

She shivered, even though it was hot.

○●○

The day dragged on and by evening, Sera had sold most of her flowers. She packed up her cart, her body aching but her mind restless. As she pushed the cart through the crowded streets, her heart sank. The few bills in her pocket felt like a cruel joke. How could she face Dimitri with this?

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the sleek black car pull up beside her until it was too late. It was him again, that same guy and his face gave nothing away.

“Get in,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Sera froze. “I… I don’t have anything to give. Please, I just need more time.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Dimitri doesn’t care about your excuses. He told me to bring you and I suggest you listen.”

Her grip on the cart handle tightened, knuckles turning white. She wanted to run, vanish in the crowd, but knew it was pointless. They'd find her.  They always did.

With a resigned sigh, she nodded and climbed into the car.

○●○

The ride was silent, so tense it was suffocating. Sera stared out the window, watching familiar streets turn into unfamiliar ones. When they finally arrived at Dimitri’s mansion, her stomach churned. The gates swung open, showing that same huge, impressive place.  It didn't just hold power, it practically beamed it.

The men led her inside, their footsteps echoing on the marble floors. Sera heart pounded as they brought her to the same office. Dimitri was at his desk, the single lamp barely lighting his sharp face. He didn't look up right away, busy with his writing.  The silence was awful.

Finally, he set his pen down and looked at her. His piercing blue eyes locked onto hers and she felt like he could see every fear, every secret she tried to hide.

“Miss Mikhailov,” he said, his voice smooth yet cold. “I assume you know why you’re here.”

“I… I’m trying,” she stammered. “I’m doing everything I can.”

“Trying isn’t good enough,” Dimitri replied, leaning back in his chair. “Your brother’s debt is still unpaid, and my patience is running thin.”

Sera clenched her fists. “Please, just a little more time. I’ll find a way—”

“You had your time,” he interrupted, his tone sharp. “Now, it’s my turn.”

Before she could respond, he stood and walked around the desk, his movements slow and deliberate. He stopped in front of her, his towering presence making her feel small.

“You said you’d do anything, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice low.

Sera swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes.”

A cruel smile curved his lips. “Good. Then you’ll work for me.”

Her eyes widened. “Work for you? What do you mean?”

“You’ll stay here, in my house,” Dimitri said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll do whatever I ask, whenever I ask. Consider it… payment.”

Sera’s heart raced. “But my grandmother—”

“She’ll be taken care of,” he said dismissively. “You should be more concerned about yourself.”

Tears filled her eyes as she realized she had no choice. If she refused, Dimitri wouldn’t hesitate to make her regret it. And she couldn’t risk her grandmother’s safety.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked, his voice like ice.

Sera hesitated, her mind racing. But in the end, she nodded. “Yes.”

“Good,” Dimitri said, his smile widening. “Welcome to your new life, Miss Mikhailov.”

○●○

That night, Sera got a tiny room in the servants' area.  It was simple but clean, with a small bed and a window looking out at the garden. She sat on the bed, totally freaked out and unsure of what would happen.

What had she gotten herself into? Working for Dimitri Volkov wasn’t just dangerous it was a death sentence. But she had no choice. Her brother’s mistakes had left her no other option.

As she lay down, exhaustion finally overtook her. But even in sleep, she found no peace. Her dreams were filled with shadows and whispers, and when she woke, her body was drenched in cold sweat.

○●○

The next morning, Sera was woken by a sharp knock on her door. A maid entered, her expression kind but Careful.

“Miss Mikhailov, Mr. Volkov has requested your presence,” she said.

Sera’s stomach twisted. “Now?”

The maid nodded. “I suggest you don’t keep him waiting.”

Sera dressed quickly, her hands trembling as she pulled on a plain dress. She followed the maid through the sprawling mansion, her heart pounding with every step.

When they reached Dimitri office, the maid opened the door and gestured for Sera to enter. Dimitri was sitting at his desk, a cup of coffee in hand. He looked up as she walked in, his gaze as sharp as ever.

“Good morning,” he said, his tone sneakily pleasant. “I trust you slept well.”

Sera nodded, though it was far from the truth.

“Good,” he said, standing. “Because we have a lot of work to do.”