Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

Chapter 2: Stumbling into debt

Year 1781

Though the Belmont family were no lords or dukes, they once lived a life far better than comfortable—until twelve years ago, when a conflict between vampires and humans tore through their community, forcing many—including the Belmonts—to abandon their homes and fall into poverty. In the remnants of what was once their vibrant life, a quiet desperation had settled in the corners of their modest dwelling.

Now, in the cosy living room, the soft ticking of the clock played a lullaby against the backdrop of clattering knitting needles as eighteen-year-old Ruelle sat beside her younger sister, Caroline. Each stitch was a breath of hope wrapped in wool, a silent testament to their struggle for survival and dignity.

"You know, the combination of these colours turned out excellent!" Caroline exclaimed with a bright voice. Leaning closer, she admired Ruelle's meticulous handiwork.

Ruelle held up the sweater, a warm flush of pride colouring her cheeks. "I'm glad they turned out alright! Can you imagine how happy Mrs. Clifford will be? I cannot wait to see their reaction!" A smile tugged at her lips.

"Alright?" Caroline laughed. "Mrs. Clifford is going to be positively delighted! She will pay handsomely for them! Isn't that right, Mother?" Her eyes sparkled with innocent hope.

Ruelle turned her brown eyes to their mother, silently pleading for acknowledgement—a nod of approval that had always felt just out of reach. Acceptance was a rare gift, one for which she yearned for more than the warmth of the sun.

Mrs. Belmont glanced towards Caroline first, a smile lighting up her face. "Oh, absolutely, dear. I'm sure she will be." But when her gaze flickered to Ruelle, it lacked warmth. The distance between them often felt unconquerable and hopeless. "Just make sure you finish quickly, Ruelle. The delivery needs to be done today," she added, her tone slightly curt.

Ruelle didn't pay much attention to her mother's lack of praise, and she nodded with a smile. She replied, "Yes, Mother." Determination sparked within her. No, she thought, she would make a better one!

They had laboured over twelve sweaters, each one stitched with care and hope, intended for Mrs. Clifford—a woman who soared above them, perched comfortably among society's elite. The money from this sale could close the growing rift in their finances, perhaps even restore a fragment of their lost dignity. Ruelle had always strived to help her family, driven not merely by duty but by the quiet whisper of love that hummed in her heart.

"Caroline, today when you go to the Clifford's mansion, you will be the one to speak with her," instructed Mrs. Belmont.

"Why me?" Caroline replied. "Ruelle handles people far better than I do!"

"Precisely why you should be the one to do it. You need the practice," Mrs. Belmont insisted, though the unspoken motivations lingered in the air—rumours of Mrs. Clifford's son, now of marriageable age, had come to her attention. With careful precision, Mrs. Belmont was weaving plans that stretched beyond mere sweaters and money.

Once Ruelle completed knitting the last sweater, she folded it neatly and placed it among the rest, ready to deliver them. But suddenly, their peaceful afternoon was shattered.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" The front door rattled violently. The clamour made Ruelle's heart leap into her throat. "OPEN IT NOW OR WE WILL BREAK IT DOWN!!"

flash of anxiety crossed her features as she turned back to the door, dread pooling in the pit of Ruelle's

the door open, revealing three

wavering with worry and caution as the men stepped

terrifying with their light red eyes. Fear

one demanded, with a sneer twisting his lips. "He's been avoiding us. When he needs money, he asks for it, but he

Ruelle thought, her mind racing. This wasn't the first time a debt collector had

stated defiantly, bewildered by their audacity. "We have been paying

interest?" The debt collector's eyes narrowed as he raised his hand, signalling his men. Panic spread in the room as they began to rummage through the meagre belongings. "Your daughters

the time for repayment had come. Vampires—turned

to do it!"

the short man sneered, watching as his men picked through their meagre possessions. "You shall come with me too. I am sure we will find decent

her eyes wide

pay you back. Please! Just give us a little more time!" All she wanted was for her family to be safe. The very thought of the vampires using them in such a ruthless

Mrs. Belmont frantically nodded in agreement. "We'll repay you

The debt collector clicked his tongue, sizing them up disdainfully. He pointed at

stuffing them into a gunny bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she assured

carry her, her face marred with deep lines of worry. With each assertive step, she felt the shadows of uncertainty closing in. Her heart raced at the thought of

path was slick with mud from the previous day's rain, and the earth pulled at her feet as if to

delivered the sweaters to Mrs. Clifford, there might be enough money to pay the debt collector, she thought to herself. The flickering hope ignited within

through the crowded market, clutching the gunny bag

reach the mansion, her foot landed on a squashed tomato on the slippery ground. The world tilted as she stumbled backwards, colliding with something solid before falling to the ground.

radiated through her. Her eyes widened in horror as she

the sweaters, she prepared to rise when a large hand suddenly caught her wrist, and she

her, casting a shadow that

brooding red eyes that seemed to pierce right through her. He appeared to be in his early twenties. It took her a moment to tear her gaze from him and realise that she had

A stout man barked nearby, his gaze now fixated on

to break them," she stammered, her voice trembling

a hint of huskiness to

asked in worry. "I—I will repay you. But I need to