After my father went bankrupt, I was shipped off to the Thorne estate to settle his debts. The man who picked me was the third son, Julian Thorne—a man with a notorious obsession with snakes. Every night, he would bring a cold, slithering reptile into our bedroom. He’d let it coil around my ankles, ignoring my tears, refusing to take it away. Aside from that terrifying quirk, I lived a life of luxury. I was the envy of everyone, the spoiled bird in a gilded cage. But then, another girl arrived at the estate to pay off a debt. Because this new girl was terrified of snakes, Julian killed his favorite pet right in front of her. Looking at the serpent’s blood pooling on the floor, I knew my time as his favorite canary was up. Conveniently, my three-year contract was over. So, clutching my barely showing baby bump, I quietly escaped the Thorne estate. 1 When I found out my family was bankrupt, I was actually thrilled. My dad had eight daughters. I was number eight. My seven older sisters had all been sold off into strategic marriages. They were pawned off to divorcees with baggage or geriatrics old enough to be their grandfathers. Beautiful women, all of them, living miserable lives. Dad had picked a winner for me, too. He combined the worst traits of all my brothers-in-law: short, obese, fifty-six years old, and mean. I took one look at him and threw up. Literally. I knew if I married him, I’d starve to death because looking at his face killed my appetite. When I refused, Dad locked me in the basement. He knew the drill; he’d broken seven daughters before me. Just as I was about to lose hope, his company tanked. Even better? None of my rich brothers-in-law lifted a finger to help. Dad was finally broke. I lit incense for my ancestors, thanking them for the divine intervention. I thought I’d dodged the bullet of marriage. I underestimated my father’s shamelessness. Since he couldn't marry me off, he decided to use me as collateral. 2 Being sent to the Thorne estate felt like walking into a slaughterhouse. Dad said the Thornes had three sons. If one of them took a liking to me, great. If not, he’d ship me off to the next creditor. By that point, my standards were on the floor. I figured I’d rather deal with the Thornes than be passed around like a bad check. As long as they weren't 5'3" and pushing sixty, I was game. But the Thorne patriarch was old-school. He looked at my dad with disgust. "We run a legitimate business. We don't accept human trafficking as payment." We were kicked out. Dad was already scrolling through his contacts, mumbling about the next family on the list, when a sharp whistle cut through the air. A man stepped out of the shadows. Sharp jawline, high brows, messy hair falling over his forehead. He was wearing black joggers, and his legs looked like they went on for days. Our eyes met, and I had one thought: This is my reward for looking at ugly men all year. Then I looked closer, and my blood ran cold. There was a silver snake coiled around his arm. Not a toy. A real, live snake. It was as thick as a baby's arm, its beady black eyes locked on me, tongue flicking in and out. I’ve been terrified of cold-blooded creatures since I was a kid. My scalp went numb. I tried to step back, but my dad bowed low, his voice trembling with hope. "Third Young Master." I knew of Julian Thorne. He was the black sheep of the prestigious family. Wild, dangerous, and obsessed with snakes. No women, just reptiles. Yet, for some reason, he was the heir apparent. Julian ignored my dad. He lifted his chin at me, his voice lazy and deep. "Scared of snakes?" Terrified. Petrified. But I forced my feet to stay planted. Compared to the troll my dad wanted me to marry, this guy was a Greek god. I squeezed out a harmless smile. "No." He smirked, clearly not buying it. He extended his arm, thrusting the snake right into my face. "Touch it then." 3 Every cell in my body screamed run. But I couldn't afford to offend Julian Thorne. I gritted my teeth and reached out. The snake stretched its neck, its icy scales brushing against my palm. Cold. Slimy. Mommy, help. I kept the smile plastered on my face and lied through my teeth. "Wow... the texture... it's really nice." Suddenly, the snake unhinged its jaw, lunging as if to bite. I shrieked and scrambled back three steps, my composure shattering. My lie was busted. I expected him to mock me. Instead, he looked me up and down with an amused glint in his eyes. "What's your name?" "Harper. Harper Lee." "Want to come with me?" "Huh?" By the time I processed what was happening, my dad and Julian had struck a deal. I was to stay with Julian for three years. In exchange, he’d wipe out $5 million of my father’s debt. It was a terrible deal for Julian. But he nodded, looking bored. "Sure. Done." 4 That night, I moved into Julian’s private villa. When he walked into the bedroom, he’d already showered. He was wearing a white silk V-neck pajama top, damp hair dripping water down his chest, disappearing into the fabric. I stood pressed against the wall, stiff as a board. "What is this, detention?" He scoffed, towel-drying his hair. "If you don't want to share a bed, there are sixteen other rooms. Take your pick." My eyes lit up. He was a gentleman! I was about to nod when he added, a wicked smirk playing on his lips, "But the other fifteen are snake rooms. Between five and twenty snakes per room. Your choice." I froze. "Actually... this room is great. Very cozy." He closed the door. Just us. Look, Julian was hot, and I knew what a "debt repayment" girl was expected to do, but my knowledge of intimacy came entirely from romance novels. I had zero practical experience. Julian climbed into bed and patted the empty space beside him. "You coming, or do I have to carry you?" I hesitated, then inched toward the bed. Rumor had it Julian Thorne hated women. Since I didn't look like a reptile, maybe I was safe? I slid under the covers, leaving enough space between us to fit a minivan. Julian looked at me, an unreadable expression on his face. He flapped his pajama shirt, trying to cool down. Flash of eight-pack abs. I glanced, then looked away, trying to be helpful. "Is the AC too high? I can lower it." Julian went silent. He stared at me, his Adam's apple bobbing. He looked... thirsty. "Do you need water?" I asked. His expression got complicated. He suddenly wasn't thirsty anymore. He turned off the light and turned his back to me. I relaxed. The rumors were true. He wasn't interested. He probably just bought me out of pity. I was blessing his kind heart and drifting off to sleep when a heavy arm draped over my waist. A hot body pressed against my back. His voice was raspy, right in my ear. "We doing this?" 5 I take it back. Julian Thorne was not a good person. He was a menace. I was too shy to say no, so he took that as a yes and pressed his advantage until I surrendered. And he was a pervert. Who brings a snake to bed during that? He’d let the snake slither around the bed, its tongue flickering against my ankle, its cold scales sliding over my calf. Meanwhile, he’d bite my earlobe, his hot breath clashing with the cold reptile. Fire and ice. It nearly drove me insane. The first year, I counted the days until I could leave him and his creepy zoo. The second year, I realized Stockholm Syndrome is real. I started getting used to it. Maybe even... liking it? The third year, I realized life with Julian wasn't bad. He was clean. No other women. He gave me whatever I wanted. I had diamonds the size of pigeon eggs, gold bars, closets full of designer bags. Everyone knew I was Julian’s favorite. Even my dad bowed when he saw me now. I was living the high life. I thought Julian liked me. When he whispered my name in the dark, his eyes reflected only me. So when the three years were up, he didn't mention me leaving, and I didn't bring it up. When I found out I was pregnant, I was actually excited. I couldn't wait to tell him. But that night, for the first time in three years, Julian didn't come home. The next day, I found out why. The Thorne family had acquired a new "debt girl."
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