"You're a woman! You can earn money with your body!" Violet suddenly heard her father, Luke, say just before he gripped her elbow so tightly that it brought tears to her eyes.
"Stop—I'm your daughter!" she screamed, her voice raw with pain.
"Yes! That's why you should try and protect your father," he said, his tone disturbingly serious. For the first time in her life, Violet felt true panic rise in her chest like a wave, threatening to drown her.
"He-HELP ME!" she screamed, turning her gaze to Sarah and Oliver, hoping—praying—that one of them would intervene. She knew that the second her father dragged her out the door, nothing could stop him from selling her off to one of his vile friends.
But he had just pulled the door open when he froze, his hand slackening on her arm. Violet felt his grip weaken in a way that startled her. She looked up, following his gaze to see what—or who—could elicit such a reaction.
Three men stood in front of their door, clad in old but formal suits. Despite the attire, the tattoos decorating their arms and faces marked them as anything but gentlemen.
Standing in the lead was a plump man with a wide, unsettling smile that didn't quite reach his cold, calculating eyes. The two larger men flanking him had expressions so devoid of warmth that Violet felt a chill creep up her spine.
"You're going somewhere?" the plump man asked Luke lightly. Despite the casual tone, there was a sharp, dangerous edge beneath his words that hinted at anything but kindness.
"M-Mr. Flint!" Luke stammered, his voice trembling in a way that Violet had never heard before. He stepped back, almost stumbling over his feet as the man entered their house uninvited.
"I—I wasn't expecting to see you today!" Luke babbled nervously, his fear palpable. "If you'd waited, I would've—"
But Mr. Flint raised a hand, silencing him. His focus shifted briefly to one of the men behind him. "He looks pretty drunk. Make him sober up," he said casually, like discussing the weather.
The bodyguard he addressed grinned darkly, cracking his knuckles. "With pleasure," he replied, stepping forward with a predatory air.
Before Luke could react, the man delivered a punch so brutal that Violet flinched, her father's body crumpling to the ground.
"Luke owes me three million in borrowed money and two million in interest fees," Mr. Flint announced cheerfully, addressing the room as though he were presenting a business proposal. His gaze swept across each family member, lingering on Violet.
"His due date is today, and I'm here to collect," he said, his words hanging heavy in the air.
"If he can't pay, the contract allows me to use every part of his body to cover the sum."
June, Sarah, Oliver, and Violet gasped in unison, horror etched into their faces. All eyes turned to Luke, who hung his head in shame, his entire demeanor defeated.
"He—he wouldn't!" June stammered, her voice trembling. Tears streamed down her face as she turned to Mr. Flint. "There must be something—something we can do!" she begged, her voice breaking as she fell to her knees.
Mr. Flint watched her with a bemused expression, his smile never wavering. "Of course, his body alone wouldn't be enough," he said smoothly. "That's why I added a small clause to the contract—one that allows me to use his family, too."
His laughter rang out, chilling and devoid of humor.
"Tha—that's impossible!" Violet snapped, stepping forward. Her hands trembled as she snatched the paper from his hands and scanned the document.
"This…" she faltered, struggling to find the right words. "…Organ selling is illegal! This paper isn't bound by law!" she shouted, though her voice lacked conviction.
"Really? It isn't?" Flint's eyes widened in mock surprise. "I guess I could always wait until each of you steps out of the house. Kidnapping you one by one would be just as effective," he said with a twisted giggle that made Violet's blood run cold.
"Please… Please don't kill us!" June sobbed, clasping her hands together as she knelt before him. "Spare my children, at least! I can work! I'll do anything you want!" she pleaded desperately.
"You'll do anything?" Mr. Flint repeated, his tone almost playful as he tilted his head.
"Anything!" June cried, lifting her tear-streaked face to meet his gaze. The sincerity in her expression was unmistakable.
"Interesting," he murmured, his smile widening.