1. Brooke

The crisp December air bit at my cheeks as I trudged towards the administrative building, my book bag clutched tightly to my chest. Garlands laced with twinkling Christmas lights wrapped around lampposts and buildings, casting a festive glow across the campus. It was a stark contrast to the sense of dread that knotted in my stomach, a relentless reminder of the impending confrontation that awaited me.

I couldn"t help but reflect on Pucks Plates, the charity event I"d poured my heart and soul into. We"d hit our goal number, but it had all been for nothing. My father"s gambling problem had swallowed up every last penny, and now our entire legacy hung in the balance.

The administrative building of Crestwood Academy stood as a testament to the institution"s blend of tradition and modernity. Its grand facade, characterized by red brick and towering white columns, emanated a sense of enduring scholarship and authority. As December"s chill wrapped around the campus, the building had donned its holiday attire with an elegance that befitted its dignified stature. Evergreen twined around the handrails, their greenery punctuated by vibrant red bows, while twinkling lights framed the grand entrance, casting a warm glow that beckoned students and faculty alike. The large windows, now frosted with artificial snow, offered glimpses of Christmas trees strategically placed in the foyer and main hall, their ornaments glinting in the soft light, adding a touch of festive cheer to the otherwise solemn interior.

Inside, the atmosphere blended academic rigor and holiday spirit. The air carried the mixed scents of pine, cinnamon, and the crispness of well-aged paper, emanating from the many offices and the vast library that occupied the east wing. In the main lobby, a towering Christmas tree stood as a centerpiece, adorned with gold and silver decorations that reflected the institution"s colors, its presence a gentle reminder of the season"s joy amidst the end-of-semester exams and evaluations. The sound of classical holiday music, played at a respectful volume, filled the space, offering a soothing backdrop to the bustling activity of students and staff moving through the halls.

At the heart of this festive commotion sat Jean, the department"s veteran secretary, behind her desk. Her presence was as much a part of the building as the bricks and mortar themselves. With her glasses perched at the end of her nose, she surveyed the lobby with keen eyes that missed nothing, yet her demeanor was anything but stern.

As I entered, Jean"s face broke into a welcoming smile, and she offered a friendly wave, an island of warmth in the cool, academic environment. Her desk, organized chaos to anyone but her, was festooned with its own small collection of holiday decorations, including a miniature tree and a string of lights, personal touches that made the space feel more inviting.

"He"s waiting for you," she said. "You"re good to go back."

I gave her a nod in return — it was the only thing I could do. My tongue was too heavy with concern to try anything else.

As I pushed open the heavy oak door to my father"s office, the scent of leather greeted me. I scanned the room, taking in the stacks of files haphazardly piled on his desk, the worn leather chair that had seen better days. My father looked up from his paperwork, his eyes weary behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

"Brooke," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. "I was hoping I"d have some good news for you by the time you got here."

I shook my head, my long blonde hair cascading over my shoulders. "It"s okay, Dad. I know we"re in a tough spot."

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, his gaze fixed on some distant point on the wall. "I never meant for this to happen, Brooke. I never wanted to put you through this."

I crossed the room, perching on the edge of his desk. "I know, Dad. But we can"t change the past. We need to focus on finding a solution."

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I"ve been racking my brain, trying to come up with a way to make things right. But I"m at a loss."

I bit my lip, my mind racing. There had to be something we could do. We couldn"t just sit back and watch our legacy crumble.

"What about selling some assets?" I suggested, my voice tentative. "Maybe we could liquidate some of the property, or sell off some of the equipment."

My father shook his head, a bitter smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I"ve already thought of that, Brooke. But it"s not enough. We"re in too deep."

I felt a surge of frustration, my fists clenching at my sides. "There has to be something we can do. We can"t just give up."

My father"s eyes met mine, a steely determination in their depths. "You"re right, Brooke. We can"t give up. We"ll find a way to make this right, even if it means starting from scratch."

I nodded, my heart swelling with hope. Despite everything, my father was all I had..

"But for now," he continued, "we need to focus on damage control. We can"t let this get out, Brooke. If word gets out about our financial troubles, it could ruin us."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "I understand, Dad. I won"t say anything."

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I know I can count on you, Brooke. You"re stronger than you think."

I forced a smile, my mind already racing with ideas. I wouldn"t let our legacy be ruined without a fight. I would do whatever it took to make things right, even if it meant facing my fears head-on.

My father"s secretary buzzed his office, her voice crackling through the intercom. "Dean Westwood, Leo and Marcus Wolfe are here to see you."

My father stiffened, something akin to fear flashing in his weary eyes. He quickly composed himself, turning to me with a forced smile. "Brooke, I think you should go. I don"t want them to notice you."

But it was too late. The door to his office swung open, revealing two men who looked like they had just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. Leo Wolfe had a shock of white hair, as was customary for the Wolfe"s, and piercing blue eyes, while Marcus Wolfe had short, spiky hair, a rugged jawline, and a scar on his right cheek. They were both good looking, but there was something about them that made me uneasy.

Leo"s gaze swept over me, his eyes lingering on my face for a moment too long. I refused to let him see how much his gaze bothered me, but inside, I felt a knot of discomfort forming in my stomach.

"Are we interrupting anything?" Leo asked smoothly, his voice like honey. "A family meeting, perhaps?"

My father stood up, extending his hand towards Leo. "No, not at all. Please, come in."

Leo and Marcus exchanged a glance, their eyes flicking towards me for a moment. I could feel their gaze on me, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

"Brooke, why don"t you wait outside?" my father said, his voice low. "I"ll call you when we"re done."

I nodded, standing up and grabbing my bag. As I walked towards the door, I could feel Leo"s gaze on me, and I quickened my pace. I didn"t want to be in the same room as him any longer than I had to be.

As I stepped outside, I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. That they were here…

My father must be in over his head.

I couldn"t bring myself to close the door completely. Instead, I pressed my back against the cold wood and strained my ears to listen to the conversation unfolding inside my father"s office. The Wolfe brothers" presence was like a dark cloud looming over us, and I couldn"t shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

Leo"s voice was smooth and charming, like a snake coiling around its prey. "Dean Westwood, I hope you"ve been well. I"m sure you remember that payment was due on the first. We"ve given you a few days, but we can"t let this slide any further."

My father"s voice was strained, desperate. "I understand, Leo. I just need a little more time. Please."

Marcus"s voice was harsh, cutting through the air like a knife. "That"s not going to happen. You knew the consequences going into this. Now you want to push for more time?"

Leo"s tone softened, but there was an underlying threat in his words. "What are you offering, Dean? That daughter of yours would look so damn pretty on my arm. You willing to let me have her?"

My heart raced, and I held my breath, waiting for my father"s response. I couldn"t believe what I was hearing. Was he actually considering this?

My father hesitated, and I could hear the fear in his voice. "Absolutely not. This doesn"t concern her. It just concerns me."

Leo"s laugh was cold and cruel. "Unfortunately, that"s not entirely true. By not paying back your loan in a timely manner, you"ve inadvertently involved her."

I felt a chill run down my spine, and I couldn"t help but wonder what he meant by that. What had my father gotten us into?

"What do you mean by that?" my father asked, his voice strained.

Marcus"s voice was harsh, cutting through the air like a knife. "Exactly what it sounds like, old man. Your daughter is fair game at this point. Collateral, if we want her to be. All because you couldn"t control yourself. And you call yourself a father?"

There was an undercurrent of bitterness in his voice, almost like he was offended on my behalf. I felt a chill run down my spine, and I couldn"t help but wonder what they were capable of.

"Yeah, she"d look really pretty at Autumn Brooke"s Christmas festival. And she"d look really pretty with her legs wrapped around me as her soaking pussy cries for my come."

I felt a surge of disgust and anger, my heart pounding in my chest.

"How dare you," my father said, his voice trembling with anger.

My heart raced as I listened to the conversation unfolding in my father"s office. I couldn"t believe what I was hearing. They were talking about me as if I was some sort of commodity, something to be traded or bartered. I felt a surge of anger and fear, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.

"No," Leo growled, his voice completely different. "How dare you? You think we want to come to this fucking academy, like we don"t have other shit to do?"

"I"ve been itching to get my knuckles bloodied up," Marcus added. "And your desk looks like it"s just been clean. Maybe I could introduce it to your face, hmm?"

I clenched my teeth together. I couldn"t just stand there and listen to them threaten my father.

I knew they"d do it too.

I pushed open the door to my father"s office, my eyes blazing with determination. My father looked up at me, his eyes wide with fear. Leo and Marcus turned to look at me, their expressions unreadable.

"Please," I said, my voice shaking. "We"ll get you the money by the end of the day."

Both brothers turned to look at me, their eyes raking over my body. I could feel their gaze on me, and I shivered involuntarily.

"Oh, yeah?" Leo asked, his lips curving into a smirk. "And what happens if that doesn"t happen?"

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. I knew what I had to do. I couldn"t let my father suffer any more than he already had.

"I"ll…I"ll go with you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I shoved my hands behind my back, trying to hide the fact that they were shaking.

Leo"s smirk grew wider, and I could see the hunger in his eyes. He was enjoying this, enjoying the fact that he had the upper hand.

"Well, well, well," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Looks like we have a deal."

I felt a surge of panic, but I pushed it down. I couldn"t let them see how scared I was. I had to be strong for my father.

"But just so you know," Leo continued, his voice low and dangerous. "If you try to pull anything, if you try to run or call the cops, I"ll make sure that you regret it. Do you understand?"

I nodded, my eyes wide with fear. I knew he wasn"t bluffing. I had to do whatever it took to protect my father.

"Good," Leo said, his voice cold and calculating. "Then we have an understanding."

I turned to my father, my eyes pleading. He looked at me, his eyes filled with regret and sadness.

"I"m sorry, Brooke," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant for this to happen."

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. I didn't believe he was sorry, but it didn"t change the fact that we were in this situation. I had to do whatever it took to make things right.

"I"ll be back by the end of the day," I said, my voice steady. "I promise."

Marcus stepped closer to me, his eyes narrowed. "You better have that money by five o"clock tonight, little girl. If you don"t, you"re going to wish you never crossed paths with us."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I"ll have it. I promise."

Marcus leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "You"d better. Because if you don"t, I"ll make sure you regret it."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as he stepped back, his eyes still locked on mine. Leo grabbed his expensive aviators from his shirt and gave me a wink as the two brothers turned to leave.

"See you soon, baby," Leo called over his shoulder.

As soon as the door closed behind them, my eyes sprang with tears. I couldn"t believe what I had just agreed to do. Fuck, I had no idea what the hell I was doing.

"Why did you say that?" my father asked, his voice shaking. "What have you done?"

"Me?" I asked, turning to face him.

"What are you going to do?" he asked. "How are you going to get that money?"

"I don"t know," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I will. Somehow."

My father sank into his chair, his head in his hands. "This is a disaster. We"re never going to be able to pay them back."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. "I"ll figure something out. I"ll talk to some people, see if I can get a loan or something."

My father looked up at me, his eyes filled with despair. "I don"t know if that"s going to be enough. They won't be satisfied with just a loan. They"re going to want their money, and they"re going to want it now."

I nodded, my mind racing. I knew he was right. I had to come up with a plan, and fast.

"I"ll think of something," I said, my voice more confident than I felt. "I won"t let them hurt you."

My father looked away, jaw locked.

I forced a smile, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. I had no idea how I was going to get the money, but I knew I had to try. I couldn"t let my father suffer any more than he already had.

I turned to leave, my mind racing with possibilities.

As I walked out of the office, I couldn"t shake the feeling that I was in over my head. But I couldn"t let that stop me. I had to be strong, for my father and for myself. I had to find a way to make things right.