The Debt of Scarlet Blair
ekwunifechinaza680 · Ongoing · 114.8k Words
Introduction
I was Scarlet Blair: wealth, beauty, a life polished to perfection. Then my father’s gambling addiction drowned us in red ink. And the price of his mistakes? Me.
That night at the club, I thought Roman was just a stranger—cold eyes, a jawline sharp enough to cut, hands that felt like sin. I didn’t know he was the king of the city’s underworld. The man my father owed $3 million. The monster who’d come to collect.
Now I live in his penthouse prison. Every door locked. Every move watched. He calls it “protection.” I call it captivity. When his grandfather demands we marry to secure his empire? It’s just another chain. A contract. Six months. No feelings. No attachments.
He thinks I’ll break. That obedience is my only option. But I’ve got claws under my silk dresses.
I’ll prove I’m no puppet he can pull strings on.
Warning: Contains themes of forced proximity, possessive obsession, and moral darkness.
Chapter 1
Scarlet's POV
My name is Scarlet Blair. I am the only child born to Mr Blair, the fifth richest man in the country.
I was the envy of many and I wouldn’t blame them. I was born into wealth, I had the looks, the body, the aura, the outfits. I lacked nothing except fatherly love. My father became a deadbeat the moment my mother died in that auto crash.
That day didn’t just take her… it took him too.
That was the last time I saw fear in his eyes. His arms had wrapped around me so tightly , his voice low and broken as he muttered prayers over and over again, like if he stopped, she would slip away. I was seven at the time, but I held onto that moment, because it was the last time he ever held me like I mattered.
Every morning, I woke to a cheque placed neatly on my bedside. At night, I stepped over a wasted man sprawled on the tiled floor, the sharp sting of alcohol thick in the air. That was our routine.
And I stopped expecting anything else from him.
“Roman, I need you to give me more time and I will get your money ready. This sum is not something I can arrange in very little time and you know it.”
I walked past my father as his voice trembled through the call, his fingers twitching restlessly around the phone. He seemed…. afraid.
I’d only seen that fear one before, under harsh hospital lights, when the doctors hadn’t come out yet.
My steps slowed for a second before I forced a shrug and kept moving. Probably politics. Not my problem.
“Shut the fuck up, Blair. You have five days and don’t you fucking call me that again, it’s gon cost your lying tongue.”
The voice on the other end was cold, giving my dad no room for explanations.
“Thank you… I will…”
Beep
I paused mid-step. Did someone just hang up on my father? Woah, that's new.
“Who was threatening you on the phone, Dad?” I asked, stirring my tea, the spoon clinking softly against the cup.
“So you were eavesdropping, huh?”
“The call was on speaker. Anyone could have heard it. All I’m saying is, if it’s something serious, we should call the police.”
“Are you concerned about your father, Scarlet Blair?”
The scoff came with a step closer.
My fingers tightened slightly around the cup, but my face stayed blank. My pulse kicked harder against my ribs, uneven, loud, but I refused to let it reach my expression.
I lifted the cup and took a slow sip. Before I could set it down, his hand struck it out of mine.
The crash was sharp. Porcelain shattered across the floor, hot tea splashing against my arm.
A sting ripped through my skin.
“Fuck!” I jerked back, clutching my arm as heat spread across it. “I have a runway to walk in a few days and you know it! FYI, I am not concerned about you. If you get yourself entangled in some shit, deal with it. I don’t want to get dragged into it!”
My voice rose, as I rushed out, my skin still burning.
His voice followed behind me, already rising again.
“If I don’t get the money, then I’ll get you instead! It’s going to be your head, not mine, Scarlet!”
My arm throbbed, skin already flushing red.
I grabbed my first aid box, and began to treat the burn.
A few minutes passed and my phone rang.
A breath slipped out of me, some of the tension easing from my shoulders when I saw the caller was my best friend, Liana.
“What’s up?”
“I’m good, Scar. I was calling to let you know I wanna go have some me time in the club tonight. Wanna come?”
I nodded before realizing she couldn’t see me.
“Yeah… perfect timing. Come pick me up by nine.”
“You’re still on the phone, Scar?”
“Yeah.”
A pause stretched longer than usual.
“What’s wrong? You’re not okay.”
My throat tightened. The tears came before I could stop them, hot and sudden, slipping down my face.
“He did it again, Li. I got a burn on my arm right now.”
“Oh my gosh. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“No. Don’t. It’s minor. I’ve handled it. He’s throwing tantrums and I just… I want to be alone right now.”
“Fine. I’ll be there by nine.”
The call ended.
I curled up on my bed, my gaze drifting to the cheque still lying untouched. I picked it up slowly, folded it once, then slid it into the box with the others.
Stacks of paper in place of affection.
A few hours later…
Liana drove in and we headed to the club. Music filled the car, loud enough to drown everything else out. Liana could tell I didn't want to talk about the morning event and she respected that.
We walked into the club and a waitress approached us, smiling flirtatiously.
“Do you need anything, girlssss”
“Ugh… get the fuck out. We are more straight than a ruler, bitch.”
We both laughed as the waitress’s smile dropped and she walked off. I lifted my hand, flashing her the middle finger for good measure.
“I got some big fishes to catch tonight, Scar. I advise you do the same.”
“You’re leaving already?”
“Uhm… was I supposed to sit and watch you?”
She was already distracted, her gaze locked on a dark-skinned guy with a cigarette hanging from his lips.
I slid onto a stool and downed the drink in front of me.
“Another shot,” I told the bartender.
Tonight, I needed the burn in my throat to replace everything else.
“Excuse me, that man sitting at the back demands your presence.”
I turned slowly, my gaze dragging over the ugly man who spoke.
“I said that man sitting at..”
“I heard you the first time,” I cut in, lifting the next shot. “I’m just surprised at your goddamn confidence.”
The alcohol slid down my throat, sharp and fast.
“Go tell that man to come meet me himself if he needs my attention.”
“The man I’m talking about is Ro.” He gently whispered to my annoyance.
“Did I stutter? Go find some other bitch. I ain’t your regular.”
He smiled and walked off.
A few minutes later, someone took the seat beside me.
“I’m guessing you’re the man at the back.”
“Was that how he described me?”
I let out a soft chuckle, still not looking at him.
“So you refused my call.”
“Yup. I did”
His hand suddenly pressed against my butt, then everything around me stopped for a split second.
My head snapped toward him, the smirk on his face was slow and confident????
I didn’t hesitate to return the gesture. My palm cracked across his face, then I emptied my drink on his head.
“Don’t you fucking try that again, moron.”
I stood, smoothing my hair like nothing happened.
“Get her to my room.”
The command was quiet and my chest tightened.
I turned to see his men approaching me. My stomach dropped and I instantly took to my heels.
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