Chapter 1

Zara's POV

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The doctor's office didn't have a name. Just a number on the door, Inside a man in a white coat used words that didn't belong in my life. Expensive words.

"Aplastic anemia, Miss Vale. Your bone marrow's failing. You're not producing red cells, white cells, or platelets. Without a transplant, six months. Maybe a year if you're lucky and very, very rich."

I waited for the rest. The but. The we can fix this.

He gave me a number instead.

"Two million for a bone marrow transplant. Plus aftercare. If we find a donor match."

Two million. I had forty-seven dollars in my bag, not even enough for meds.

"Do I-" My voice came out wrong. Light. Like the words were fighting which to come out. "Do I have options?" I asked "meds for now surgery should follow soon" he said

He looked at me. Really looked. At the color of my skin. At the bruises on my arms from cleaning tables and opening doors. "you need to take more care of yourself as you'll bruise easily and have frequent nosebleeds oh and avoid little cuts"

I signed a paper I didn't read. Took the scan they printed. Walked out into heat, the sun shining brightly. Too brightly.

The clinic steps were twelve. I counted. By the seventh, my vision became blurred. By the eleventh, I had to sit. Right there. On the last step

A woman with a cart of flowers looked at me. Not with pity. With recognition. Like she'd seen others like me before. People who got news and then sat down because standing cost too much.

I didn't cry. Anemia takes your blood. Turns out it takes your tears too.

The walk back took an hour. I used to love walking. Now it was like I just climbed a mountain,I was out of breath.

The apartment door hung off one hinge. My father's things - gone. His bottles, his ashtrays full of promises - gone. The only thing left was the eviction notice on the table and my mother's photo face-down on a drawer. She'd left when I was eight. Said she couldn't do it anymore. It being him. It being us.

"Your father said you'd cover it," the man with the gold teeth had told me last week. He didn't have all his teeth, but he had all the numbers. "Two hundred thousand. Or we take the apartment or his kidney"

Two hundred thousand. I'd paid that already. In pieces.

I sat on the floor. The scan was heavy in my lap. Aplastic anemia. It sounded like a lie. Like something that happened to other people,some tv drama.

I was six when my father's gambling started. Eight when my mother left and didn't look back. Ten when I became mature. Twelve when I quit school to work the counter at a diner that didn't ask my age. Fourteen when I started cleaning houses so we could eat. Sixteen when I sold my old textbooks so he could pay a debt. Eighteen when I took my first job at a place that sells chicken. Twenty when I promised myself I'd leave and never did. Now it's been four years I still didn't leave.

Twenty-four now my body has given up before I did

I pressed my hands to my face. Not from fear. From nothing. From empty.

There were red dots on my ankles. Petechiae, the doctor called them. Like freckles, if freckles meant you were bleeding under your skin. I'd gotten them last month. Thought it was heat rash. Thought it was stress. Thought it was anything but death.

I stood. The room tilted. I felt a liquid drop down my face. Nosebleed Again. Third one today.

I didn't grab tissue. I let it run. Watched it drip onto the eviction notice. Onto his debt.

Six months.

Six months of mine.

Something broke. Or maybe it healed. I couldn't tell.

I walked to the bathroom. The mirror was cracked. I was cracked. We matched.

I looked at myself. Really looked.

Pale. Lips almost blue. Eyes too big for my face now. Bruises on my collarbone from a doorframe I'd brushed yesterday. Hair coming out in the comb.

Dying.

The word didn't fit in my mouth. I tried it anyway. "I'm dying."

The girl in the mirror didn't flinch.

She smiled.

It was the first real thing I'd done in years.

Because if I was dying, then I was free.

Free from two hundred thousand. Free from Gold Teeth. Free from my father's voice in my head saying this is the last time, Zara, I promise

I thought about the dreams I'd buried. Stupid ones. Little ones. I wanted to wear a red dress and not worry about staining it. I wanted to eat cake for breakfast and not think about the debt I could settle with it. I wanted to sleep for ten hours and not set an alarm. I wanted to tell my dad no and not feel guilty or bad. I wanted to laugh loud. I wanted to dance until I fell down - and if I fell down, so what?

I was falling anyway.

I washed the blood off my face. It kept coming. I gave up and let the sink run red.

Six months.

One hundred and eighty days. I calculated

Four thousand, three hundred and twenty hours.

I'd spent twenty-four years cleaning up after others

Now I am going to do me.

I went to my room. Pulled out the box under the bed. Inside: a college prospectus I'd stolen two years ago. Business. I used to trace the course list at night. Introduction to Marketing. Accounting 101. Numbers that didn't belong to debt.

Next to it: a red lipstick I'd never worn. Bought for four dollars. "the right time" I told my self.

Right time when I'm dying?

I opened it. Put it on. My hands shook and it went outside the lines. I didn't fix it.

I looked at the girl in the cracked mirror. Blood on her chin. Red on her mouth.

"Zara Vale," I told her. "You have six months. What are you going to do with them?"

The answer came fast. It came clean. It came from a place that had been quiet for twenty-four years.

Everything.

I was going to do everything.

I was going to walk in the rain and not run. I was going to eat dessert first. I was going to say no and yes and fuck you in the same breath. I was going to spend my forty-seven dollars on something stupid. I was going to be loud. I was going to be seen.

I was going to live.

For me.

Only me.

I wiped the blood off my chin one last time. Picked up my mother's photo. Looked at her face - young, tired, already gone before she left. I put it back in the drawer. Face-down.

She chose to leave.

Now I was choosing to stay. For six months. For myself.

I stepped out of the apartment. Left the door open. I was done

The sun was dying too. Bleeding orange across the sky. I tilted my face up to it. "It was beautiful" I thought

Six months, Let's see what I can burn down before I go.

Chapter 2

I was still standing outside the apartment staring at the sky when I heard footsteps. I turned around. It was the man who calls himself my father. The same father I couldn't leave even when I said I would.

But not anymore.not this time.

I walked back inside. Away from him. I didn't tell him about the diagnosis, there was no reason to, he hasn't been a father to me all these years, he wouldn't start now.

He followed me back in, walking behind me like someone who has done something bad and wanted to say but couldn't say it out. He always does this when he needed money and I have none to spare.

I turned around facing him "what is it dad, I have no money to give to you so stop following me" I said to him.

"That not it" he said almost immediately I ended my sentence. His hand to his head itching like a kid who doesn't know where to start.

"The thing is-- the thing is" he stammers

"For christ sake dad --- say something" I shouted

"I-- l-- did it again" he said "you did what, dad what in heavens name did you do"

"It happened again -- but-but this time I was so sure I was gonna wins, I mean I did win but decided to go again, then I lost all my winnings and loans" he confessed

"Wait what, you did what" I was dumbfounded I had just cleared the last debt and now another "how many thousands?" I asked he hesitated to speak at first but finally did "7 digits hon"he said "what!!" 7 what!!? You gambled away a million how did you even get a million" I shouted already feeling dizzy

"The thing is I won hon I actually did win but I decided to go again the stakes were high I was sure I would win, so you'd never have to lift a finger again so I took a loan and signed you off as the collateral" he said

"You say what now – you did want? Sign me off? What am I?

Your property?"

I can't do this. No I won't

"It's your problem dad it's on you so you go solve it"

"I have nothing to do with it" I said my piece

I couldn't stay in this house with him one bit longer so I grabbed my bag and proceeded to go out.

Few steps out I heard a voice or rather we heard a voice. A voice I can never forget just hearing the voice alone give me a shock. Gold teeth as I addressed him and his men. Loan sharks. They are here and it only means one thing. Trouble.

I looked back at my father " you see what you've done" I said to him. He came closer pulling me by the arm "come hide they must be here for you" he said

My dad took me and shove me in a pile of clothes even taking more from the closet and adding it " don't come out he said"

I stayed quiet. Breathed quietly even when the smell of the clothes made me feel like I was being strangled. I stayed still.

Gold teeth came in-- I call him that due to his gold teeth implants that were unevenly placed.

He came in grabs my father by his neck asking him where I was. my father didn't say. The other men he brought along with him were busy looking for any thing valuable or sellable in the house but nope nothing was valuable in the house we'd had already sold most things to clears debts.

My father gets beaten but still begs for time with the little strength he has from getting hit repeatedly "if you don't bring your daughter to us by tomorrow or our money we'll rip out all your organs that are sellable and give your remains to dogs" gold teeth said and he meant that --- they have been cases where some persons who owes them goes missing and were never found.

They eventually left and I came out furious but on looking at how awfully beaten he was I couldn't say anything but just sat there with him ---- yes he is my father and I hate him so much but- I guess I also love him. Apart from being an addicted gambler and a drunk he was also a caring at times. The way he cleans my shoe and puts them in position before I go to work each day, waits for me when he closes so we'd go home together saying "a young lady shouldn't walk alone when it's dark" he says

Those little things

Those little things mattered. To me

If - if only he didn't gamble. if only.

I looked at him and remorse was written all over his face. Same face I've seen so many times. Again. And again.

I'm not doing this I thought to myself. Before I could mutter out the words from my mouth I heard him say "you should run, don't look back and go you have done enough, I've tried to stop but I can't, I really tried hon, so go before they come back" he had this look on his face I have never seen before when he said that. I hesitated. Looked at him. He blinked twice slowly while silently saying "go"

Tears rolled down my eyes I do love my dad but what about me. Don't break. I told myself." You're dying so be the bad daughter for once"

I stood up looked at my dad one last time "there's money behind my closet get yourself treated" I said and walked towards the door. The gate to my freedom was finally Infront of me----- or so I thought. I opened the door to find gold teeth standing there with both hands to his waist smiling.

"My dear Zara you are going to be auctioned" he said

Chapter 3

Damien voss POV

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"Damien." I heard my father shouting from the door.

He's the only man alive who'd dare use my name. Out there, in my world, I'm not Damien. I'm "sir." I'm the reason conversations die when I walk in. I'm the last mistake you'll ever make.

Being at the top means you don't get respect - you take it. You see it in the way their eyes drop to the floor when I pass. In the way their hands shake pouring drinks they didn't spill. Fear keeps people honest. Fear keeps them alive. I like fear.

The ones who tried to double-cross me? You won't find them. Not because they're hiding. Because I don't leave tales behind.

Now my father's at my door, saying a name I rarely hear. That means one of two things: he needs something, or he's about to die. I don't care.

Either way, I'm not happy he's here

"Damien" "Damien" "where the hell is your boss" he asks my right hand man "upstairs" he replied

I could already hear his footsteps climbing up the stairs. I didn't move. I know why he's here.

"Boy didn't you hear me calling you" "I just got off the phone with Mr Romano that you didn't show up for the date" he said. I didn't reply. Seeing as I refused to look his way or say a word, he came closer and took the glass of alcohol in my hands and smashed it right on the floor. Now I was looking at him. Anger. I held it in.

"Why don't your little wife give you a child you can marry off in an arranged marriage to make the voss empire bigger and leave me the hell out of it" I said. Full with rage.

"It's all for your own good, it'll all be yours someday" he said. "Well I don't need it" I replied

"If that's all you have to say--now leave"

"You're already way past thirty and I want you married with an heir before passing the empire to you" he said. He doesn't really know when to give up.

"I am not getting married--if that pleases you to hear and you can't do anything about it' I said and stood up. About to walk away when I heard...

"Your shipping routes" he said. "I'm cutting off all your shipping routes till you get married--- no arranged marriage?--- fine–then bring me someone--and no tricks boy" he said and walked away.

Old Voss might be old but he has strong and powerful connections and shutting down my routes is no big deal for him.

Just as he left, Enzo my right hand man came up.

"You okay D" he asked. He grew up with me and knows the beef between I and my father better than anyone else.

"The shipping routes are gonna be cut off" I said to him.

"What?!-- but we have a huge order coming in- we can't let it fall apart" he said

"You think I don't know" I said angrily. "There's never a time where you and old Voss have a peaceful conversation" he said.

"Well he never learns to leave me the hell alone" I said.

I walked about the room thinking of what to do. Nothing. Nothing was coming to me.

Enzo was busy at the other end of the room placing calls and receiving calls but a solution doesn't seem so easy to find.

Old Voss was good when it's comes to this game too good actually-- lucky. Also very lucky he's my father- someone else would have been easier to handle. Way too easy.

I was still pacing around the room racking my brains for a solution but none seemed to come my way. I looked at Enzo hoping he got something- anything but the look he gave me told me otherwise. "We are fucked D" he said

A maid came in with a mail, gave to Enzo and left.

"An auction, we get invites once in awhile" he said "we gat no time for paintings and stuff" I said.

"No D, not stuffs, humans" he said and I gave him a stare that says "I don't care".

"For old Voss to do this-- what does he want?" He asked. "Marriage of course" I said. "This is a really important time for us, but no routes = no business expansion except---- I get married" I completed. "Don't kid me D where will you get a bride" Enzo asked. I stayed silent for awhile, hands running through my hair.

I was about to walk out when my eyes fell on the unopened mail on the table "a bride you say" I walked to the table and picked up the mail. Opened it.

The date said today 10pm. I looked at Enzo and said " Go get ready I'm buying myself a wife".

I said while lighting a cigarette.