The mansion gates were now heavily guarded.
Security vehicles were parked near the entrance, and several armed guards stood watch along the fences. The tension in the air was impossible to ignore.
Amara stood near the large window in the living room, her arms folded tightly.
Her mind was spinning.
The debt collectors had found her.
The past she thought she had escaped was now threatening to destroy the fragile life she had started to build.
Behind her, Alexander spoke with the head of security in a low voice.
"Every camera in the surrounding area must be monitored," he ordered.
"Yes, sir."
"No one enters this property without my approval."
"Understood."
When the guard left, Alexander turned toward Amara.
"You should have told me about the debt."
She swallowed.
"I thought it was over."
"How much did you owe them?"
"Fifty thousand dollars."
Alexander's expression remained calm.
"That amount is insignificant."
"It wasn't to me," Amara replied quietly.
Before Alexander could respond, his phone suddenly rang.
The sound cut sharply through the quiet room.
He glanced at the screen.
Unknown number.
Alexander answered.
"This is Alexander Kingston."
For a few seconds, there was only silence on the line.
Then a voice spoke.
Low.
Slow.
And cold.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Kingston."
Alexander's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Who is this?"
"Someone who appreciates the value of a good contract."
Amara felt a chill run down her spine.
Alexander's tone hardened.
"You have thirty seconds to explain why you're calling."
The man chuckled softly.
"I see you are a busy man."
"What do you want?"
"Your wife."
The words froze the air in the room.
Alexander's gaze shifted briefly toward Amara.
"You've made a mistake," he said calmly. "My wife has nothing to do with you."
"Oh, but she does."
Amara's heart began pounding.
The voice continued.
"Amara owes us money. And people who owe us money don't simply disappear."
Alexander's grip on the phone tightened.
"How did you get this number?"
"Mr. Kingston, a man in your position should know better than to ask such simple questions."
Alexander's patience was wearing thin.
"Name your price."
A short pause followed.
Then the man laughed again.
"This is not about money anymore."
Alexander's eyes turned icy.
"Then what is it about?"
"Respect."
The word echoed through the phone.
"Your wife embarrassed some very powerful people when she ran away from her debt."
Amara shook her head anxiously.
"That's not true," she whispered.
Alexander raised his hand slightly, signaling her to stay quiet.
"What exactly do you want?" he asked again.
"Simple," the man replied. "Return Amara to us."
Amara's face turned pale.
Alexander's voice dropped dangerously low.
"That will never happen."
The man didn't seem surprised.
"I thought you might say that."
A brief silence followed.
Then the voice became colder.
"In that case… we will collect the debt ourselves."
The call suddenly ended.
The room felt suffocatingly quiet.
Alexander slowly lowered the phone.
Amara looked at him, fear filling her eyes.
"What did he mean by that?"
Alexander's jaw tightened.
"They're not just loan sharks."
"What?"
"They're organized."
His mind was already calculating the possibilities.
If these people were bold enough to call him directly, they were far more dangerous than ordinary criminals.
Amara's voice trembled slightly.
"Alexander… I didn't mean to drag you into this."
He looked at her.
His expression was calm, but there was steel behind his eyes.
"You didn't drag me into anything."
"But—"
"You're my wife."
The words surprised her.
"Yes, it's a contract," he continued. "But while that contract exists, you are under my protection."
Amara felt a strange warmth mix with her fear.
Alexander turned toward the security monitors.
His voice became cold and commanding.
"Let them come."
His eyes darkened slightly.
"They're about to learn they chose the wrong enemy."
But neither of them realized one terrifying truth.
The enemy had already begun their next move.
And it was far more dangerous than a phone call.