The ride from my house felt endless. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows, painting shadows across my face. My heart still raced from the knock, the men, and that cold word: debt.
I wanted to scream, to beg, to run—but my feet didn't move. The car was silent except for the low hum of the engine, and the two men in the front seats didn't speak a word. I knew I was not their first passenger, and I wouldn't be the last.
Finally, the car stopped. I glanced out the window. A tall, black building rose against the night sky, its windows dark and unwelcoming. Guards in black suits flanked the entrance. Nothing about this place felt human—or safe.
They led me inside. The marble floors reflected my trembling legs. The silence was suffocating. I wanted to turn back, but there was nowhere to go.
And then I saw him.
He sat behind a massive mahogany desk, calm, collected, terrifying. His dark eyes locked onto mine as if he could see every secret I had ever held.
The man called Luca Moretti. The Devil.
"Sit," he commanded.
I obeyed. My throat dry, my knees weak.
"You know why you are here," he said, voice low, sharp, almost pleasant in its cruelty.
"I… I don't owe anything!" I blurted out. "My father is dead!"
"Your father owed me," he said simply, leaning back. "And now… you will pay."
I shook my head. "I won't. I can't. Kill me, if you must, but don't—don't drag me into this."
He smiled faintly, cold. "I could kill you. I could leave you in the street. But that wouldn't solve anything. I need something… permanent."
My stomach dropped. "Permanent?"
He rose from his chair and approached slowly. Every step made my chest tighten. "You marry me."
I laughed nervously, but it came out as a choke. "You… you're insane!"
"I am serious," he said. "Sign the papers. Clear the debt. You live. Your mother lives."
I swallowed hard. My mind spun. I thought of my mother, her face pale from worry, her hands shaking when she called me earlier. My life, my family… everything depended on one decision.
I nodded, barely able to breathe. "I… I will do it."
The weight of my own words hit me like a blow.
"You will move into my house tonight," he said calmly.
"Tonight?" I whispered.
"Yes."
As I followed him out of the room, fear, dread, and a strange fluttering of curiosity churned inside me.
I didn't know then that saying yes wasn't just a choice—it was the beginning of a life I could never escape.