Chapter 7 Interest: On Call, At All Times

Celeste's POV

The color drained from my face, and my ears rang with a single hollow note.

Every word he'd said had landed exactly where I couldn't stand to be touched.

I hadn't left all those years ago for money.

But I couldn't tell him that either. No, that's not it.

My hands were shaking at my sides. I wanted to argue back, to curse him out, to sweep everything off the desk and throw it at him. But I couldn't do a thing.

I just stood there.

I saw his expression change.

Only for a second.

Something flickered through his eyes, and he didn't take it back.

His jaw was tight, his lips pressed into a thin line, like a man refusing to bow his head.

"...You're right."

I heard myself speak, my voice hoarse.

"I'm short on money. Which is exactly why I shouldn't owe you."

He said nothing.

I turned to leave.

He crossed the room in one stride and caught my wrist.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Let go."

"We're not done."

"There's nothing left to say to you."

"You do this every time." His fingers tightened. "Walk out halfway through a conversation."

"Because there's not a single word out of your mouth I want to hear!"

"Then what do you want to hear?"

"I want you to shut up!"

I startled myself when I shouted it.

He froze too.

Then he pulled me backward, and I stumbled, my back striking the edge of the desk.

He braced his hands on either side of me, penning me between the desk and himself.

We were so close I could smell him.

"What do you want?" I gritted out. "What are you after?"

"I want you back with me."

I looked into his eyes, then shoved him hard and put some distance between us.

My heart was pounding so loudly I was afraid he'd hear it.

So I spoke as fast as I could. "Does Marie know?"

His movement stopped.

"Your fiancée," I said, spacing out every word. "Does she know you're paying another woman's medical bills?"

The air seemed to freeze solid.

He stared at me, his gaze cooling by degrees.

"You're worrying about her now?"

"I'm reminding you."

"Reminding me of what?"

"That you have a fiancée."

My voice was trembling, but I held on.

"You shouldn't be doing this to me."

"Doing what?"

"This." I raised a hand and pushed at him again; he didn't budge. "Standing this close. Caging me in. Paying my bills. Saying things like that. What exactly are you trying to do?"

He looked at me for a long time.

"I want to court you again."

He said it quietly.

I froze—then the words came out before I could stop them. "Impossible. There's no future for us. Anyone in the world can pursue me. Anyone but you."

Sure enough, the moment the words left my mouth, he let go.

He stepped back and walked around to the other side of the desk. I straightened up against the edge, my legs still weak.

He pulled open a drawer, took out a sheet of paper and a pen, and tossed them in front of me.

"Write."

"Write what?"

"An IOU."

I looked at the blank page.

"You said you'd pay it back." He leaned into his chair. "So write it down."

"Are you insane? Can't you just have the hospital refund the money?"

"We're not close, are we?"

He handed my own words right back to me.

"Between people who aren't close, there's only business. Borrowing money, writing an IOU—that's just how it works."

My fingers pressed against the paper.

I didn't have to write it.

But the money was already spent. Getting the hospital to refund it would take someone with his kind of power to speak up, and I had no other way. If I didn't sign, this debt would hang over me forever, held in his fist.

If I wrote it, at least it was something I'd acknowledged myself.

At least what I owed him was money.

I picked up the pen.

[Borrower: Celeste]

[Lender: Dmitri]

"Fill in the amount," he said.

I wrote down the hospital's figure.

"And the interest?" I looked up.

"I'll write that."

He came around the desk, stood behind me, and bent down, taking the pen from my hand.

His arm brushed my shoulder, and my whole body went rigid.

He wrote a line at the very bottom of the page.

I looked down.

[Interest: On call, at all times.]

My head snapped around, and I nearly collided with his chin.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it says."

"That's not interest!"

"If I say it is, it is."

"You can't be this unreasonable—"

"Celeste."

He cut me off, his voice pitched low.

"Didn't you say you wanted to pay it back?"

"I'll only ever pay back money!"

"I'm not short on money."

"And how much can you pay back in a month?"

I named a figure.

He laughed out loud.

"At that rate, you'll be in front of me for as long as it takes to repay it. On call, at all times."

Blood rushed to my head.

"You're playing with me!"

"I'm doing business with you."

"What kind of business is done like this?"

I clenched my teeth, my nails nearly digging into the pen.

"What do you actually want?"

He looked at me for a long moment.

"You tell me."

My throat tightened, and panic rose in waves through my chest.

He took the pen from my fingers, and at the touch of his warm palm, I nearly lost control of my own heart.

I looked at him.

His eyes were very dark, his gaze deep and unreadable. I couldn't see through any of it.

I had never been able to see through him.

I thought of last night on the phone, the moment the nurse said, "The payer is Dmitri."

I hated myself—in that moment, my heart had skipped a beat.

He took the IOU, folded it, and slid it into his suit's inner pocket.

"Good," he said.

"I only owe you money," I said, staring at him. "Nothing else. I don't owe you anything else."

"Is that so."

He neither denied it nor agreed.

Just then, his phone rang.

The screen lit up, buzzing against the desk.

I saw the caller ID.

[Marie]

My breath stopped.

He looked down at the name.

Three seconds.

He reached out and picked up the phone.

I thought he would answer.

He glanced at me.

Then, right in front of me, he pressed decline.

The screen went dark.

He tossed the phone back onto the desk like it was something irrelevant.

He'd rejected her call.

In front of me.

I shouldn't have cared.

But in that instant, I actually felt relieved.

And immediately, I hated myself for it.

Celeste, get a grip.

He has a fiancée. Your IOU is sitting in his pocket, he's threatening to have you on call, he wants to control you. A moment ago he was using the place that hurts you most as a knife.

So why does your heart still waver because of him?

You shouldn't love him anymore.

I lowered my head, not daring to look at him again.

What on earth was he doing?