Chapter 3
I stared at him, and what he had said left me shaking.
Belonging to the mafia that’s a death wish.
A death wish for me.
My throat tightened, and I struggled to speak, to process what he was asking of me.
This wasn’t a choice, it was a demand.
And when you break a demand of a mafia don.
You die.
“I…” I began, my voice trembling. “I don’t—”
Dominic tilted his head, his expression unreadable. Then, with an unnerving calm, he reached into his jacket and drew the gun again.
The click of the chamber loading sent a jolt of fear through me.
He aimed it squarely at my father.
“No!” I screamed, my body lurching forward instinctively. “Please, don’t!”
My father, coughing and bloodied on the floor, struggled to lift his head. “Let him do it,” he rasped, his voice weak but resolute. “A shameless man like me should die.”
Dominic chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down my spine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he laughed, the unbuttoned collar of his shirt revealing the broad expanse of his chest beneath his tailored suit. He was calm, too calm, as if death was just another tool at his disposal.
“You’re a brave man,” Dominic said, his voice edged with mockery. He leaned closer to my father, the barrel of the gun inches from his head. “But bravery doesn’t pay debts.”
“Please,” my mother whimpered from the couch, her frail voice barely audible. “Please… I’ll do it. I will fucking do it. Just don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt my family.”
I swallowed hard, the room spinning as Dominic’s eyes flicked back to me.
“Is that your answer, Aria?” he asked, his voice soft but carrying the weight of a threat. “Will you save them, will you be mine or should I put an end to this mess right now?”
I opened my mouth, ready to agree, but the words caught in my throat.
“Give me time,” I said, the plea spilling out before I could stop it. “Just… give me some time to think.”
His mood changed almost instantly.
“Do you think this is a negotiation?” he snarled, his voice a menacing growl.
“Please,” I begged, my voice cracking. “I just need time. Two days. That’s all I’m asking.”
Dominic studied me for a long, agonizing moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he straightened, lowering the gun.
“Two days,” he said, his tone clipped.
Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived.
Dominic reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek black business card. Without looking at me, he tossed it to the floor at my feet.
“Call me,” he said, his voice like steel. “Unless, of course, you want to see your father and mother dead.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut, cold and final.
Without another word, Dominic turned and strode toward the door, his movements smooth and deliberate. Alessio followed close behind, but not before shooting me one last disdainful look.
The room fell deathly silent as the door slammed shut behind them.
I collapsed to the floor, my legs giving out beneath me. My chest heaved with silent sobs, the weight of everything crashing down on me at once.
I buried my face in my hands, tears spilling freely as my body shook.
No one knew.
Not my mother. Not my father.
No one knew that I only had six months left to live.
What else could I do?
The room remained silent except for my muffled sobs, the heaviness of what had just transpired pressing down on me.
Hurt and alone.
“Aria…” My mother’s frail voice broke through the quiet. I felt her trembling hands clutching my shoulders as she knelt beside me.
I lifted my head to look at her, her tear-streaked face breaking my heart even further. She pulled me into her arms, crying softly into my hair.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with anguish. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you. To us. I am so sorry for everything.”
Her embrace was warm, comforting, but it only made the ache in my chest grow.
I pulled back slightly, wiping at my tear-streaked face as I turned my gaze to my father. He sat slumped on the floor, his head hung low, one hand pressed against his ribs where the men had kicked him. Blood smeared his lip, and his once-proud frame now looked small and broken.
“How much?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
My father’s head snapped up, his bloodshot eyes meeting mine. “What?”
“How much do you owe them?” I repeated, my voice gaining strength.
He hesitated, his gaze flicking to my mother before dropping back to the floor.
“Half a million,” he mumbled, barely audible.
The air left my lungs, my head spinning. “Half a million?” I repeated, my voice incredulous.
He nodded, shame written all over his face.
I closed my eyes, trying to process the staggering amount. It wasn’t just an impossible debt, it was a death sentence.
“What did you even do with that kind of money?” I demanded, anger rising in my chest. “How do you lose half a million dollars?”
My father’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. “I… I was trying to win,” he muttered.
“Win?” I echoed, disbelief dripping from my tone. “You gambled it?”
He didn’t answer, but the guilt in his expression was answer enough.
“I was trying to win more,” he said finally, his voice defensive. “Two million. I thought I could double it for your mother’s treatment.”
“Unbelievable,” I hissed, shaking my head. The words poured out of me before I could stop them. “You thought gambling away half a million dollars would fix things? Are you fucking insane? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
My mother reached for him, her eyes filled with disappointment and pain. “You risked everything,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Our home. Our family. Everything. And for what? A stupid dream?”
“I didn’t mean for it to get this bad,” he said, his voice trembling. “I just… I wanted to help.”
“Help?” I snapped, my anger boiling over. “Do you even hear yourself? You’ve destroyed us! You’ve put Mom’s life in danger, your life, my life! Of all the people you had to meet, you met a mafia Don for money. Everyone in Beldova knows that’s like signing a contract…with a FUCKING DEVIL!!”
I screamed in anger.
He looked away, unable to meet my glare.
“You don’t think!” I yelled, my chest heaving with rage. “You’ve never thought about anyone but yourself! Your gambling has always been more important than us. And now, because of you, I’m supposed to… to sell myself to that man just to save your sorry ass?”
“Aria, please…” my mother began, her voice shaky.
I turned to her, my tears spilling over again. “He gambled away half a million dollars, Mom! How could he?”
My father opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “Don’t. Just don’t. I don’t want to hear your excuses.”
The room fell into a suffocating silence. My mother’s sobs filled the void, her face buried in her hands as the reality of our situation sank in.
I sat back against the wall, my knees pulled to my chest, my head resting against them. My father’s broken figure sat across from me, his shame written all over his face, but it did little to quell my anger.
Two days.
Two days and I faced two options.
Death or slave.
I closed my eyes, the tears streaming down my cheeks as despair clawed at my insides.
No one knew the truth.
No one knew I only had six months left to live.
What else could I do?