Chapter 3

*************

The room was hushed, the weight of Elena's father's words hanging in the air. His face, once filled with warmth and laughter, was now etched with lines of worry and regret. He cleared his throat, his voice heavy with the burden of his confession.

"I don't know how to say this," he started, his voice faltering, "but I've gotten myself into a dire situation. I've incurred a debt with a man, a dangerous one, and... and there have been threats made against our lives."

Elena's breath caught in her throat, her mind racing to make sense of the words. "Threats? Father, who is this man? What kind of debt are we talking about?"

Elena's father hesitated, his gaze dropping to the letter. "His name is Marco Moretti. He's a powerful figure, and I owe him a substantial amount of money. I fear for our lives, Elena. For yours and your brother's."

"Elena, I'm thinking of offering you to the crime boss in exchange for our lives."

Elena's hands clenched into fists, her anger and disbelief bubbling to the surface. How can you possibly think of... of offering me to this man?"

Elena's father looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and regret. "Elena, I... I don't see any other way out. This is our only chance at survival. You would be sparing us all."

Elena's voice trembled with fury. "I won't do it, Father. I won't be sold off like some piece of property. There has to be another solution, another way to get out of this."

Elena's father's gaze fell, his face etched with defeat. He knew that Elena was right, that this was an unthinkable choice to ask of her. But he also knew the danger they were all in.

**************

The dimly lit room was heavy with the scent of cigar smoke and the low murmur of voices. Marco sat at the head of the table, his steely gaze fixed on Vinny, his most trusted capo.

"Report," he demanded, his voice as cold and unyielding as steel.

Vinny cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Santiago," he began, "has defaulted on his payments, boss. He's fallen behind, and the interest is piling up."

Marco's jaw clenched, a simmering anger coursing through him. Santiago had known the consequences of crossing their path. There was no room for leniency in this world.

"And what of his proposal?" Marco asked, his tone laced with disdain.

Vinny hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "It seems he's considering offering his daughter as... compensation for his debt, boss."

Marco's lip curled in a sneer. The audacity of the man to think he could use his own flesh and blood as collateral. It was a move born out of desperation, and one that Marco was prepared to dismiss without a second thought.

"Set a meeting," Marco commanded, his eyes glinting with a dangerous resolve. "I'll hear what he has to say."

**************

The evening was shrouded in dark lights as Marco and his goons approached Santiago's house.

As they entered the house, Marco's eyes fell upon Santiago, a broken figure standing before him. The scent of fear clung to the air, mingling with the weight of desperation.

The room was stifling, suffocated by the oppressive tension that hung in the air. Elena's father stood trembling before the imposing figure of Marco Moretti, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. His voice wavered as he spoke, each word carrying the weight of his desperation.

"P-please, Mr Marco," he stammered, "I beg you for mercy. I... I need more time to find the money. My family..."

Marco's cold eyes bore into Santiago, his patience wearing thin. Without a word, he motioned to his goons, who swiftly restrained Santiago, pressing a gun against his temple. The room seemed to close in around them, the air thick with foreboding.

"Time is a luxury we can't afford, Santiago," Marco declared, his voice like steel. "You've had your chances."

He turned to one of his men. "Search the house. Find anything of value."

In a matter of moments, they emerged with Santiago's trembling son, a gun pressed to his temple. The boy's eyes widened in terror, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Now, Santiago," Marco's voice was low and dangerous, "where is my money?"

Santiago's gaze darted around the room, his mind racing for a solution. He knew he had nothing to offer, no way to repay the debt that hung over his head like a guillotine.

"I... I don't have it," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, Don Marco, spare me. I can offer something else. My daughter..."

Elena’s brother's voice cracked with disbelief. "Dad, are you mad? You want to give them Elena?"

Before Santiago could respond, a sharp slap echoed through the room, silencing his son. The goon's eyes bore into the boy, a silent warning to hold his tongue.

Marco's gaze remained fixed on Santiago, his expression unyielding. "I have no interest in your daughter, Santiago. She means nothing to me."

Just then, the door creaked open, revealing Elena, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. She had just come from her cafe, unaware of the storm that had erupted in her absence. The sight before her sent a jolt of terror through her veins.

“This is Elena, my daughter.” Santiago blurted out.

As Marco's steely gaze fell upon the figure of Elena, a sudden wave of recognition washed over him. The girl from the café, the one who had left a mark on his thoughts.

In the silence that hung heavy in the room, Marco's mind raced. He recalled their brief encounter, the way she had stood her ground with an unwavering strength. A display he hated and swore to punish.

A slow, knowing smile curled on Marco's lips. He turned his attention back to Santiago, a glint of cunning in his eyes. The game had shifted, and Marco was more than willing to play his part.

"I must admit, Santiago," Marco purred, his voice dripping with calculated charm, "that your offer has become much more... intriguing."

Santiago's eyes widened. "And what do you propose, Mr Marco?" Santiago stammered, his voice trembling.

As Marco's calculating eyes bore into Elena's, a twisted smirk played at the corner of his lips. The room seemed to grow colder, the weight of his presence pressing down on her.

"You know, Elena," he began, his voice dripping with thinly veiled mockery, "I could give you a way out. I'll pay your father's hospital bill, wipe away his debt, and all you have to do is let me have you till I’m tired of you"

The words hung heavily in the air, each syllable laced with a cruel intention. He reveled in the discomfort that danced across Elena's face, knowing full well the power he held in this moment.

Marco stood up walking towards Elena and leaned in, his breath chilling against her skin. "You'll be a my good girl won’t you?," he purred, relishing in the terror that flashed in her eyes. "But don't worry, it's a small price to pay for your father's well-being, isn't it?"

With that, he straightened, a sinister glint in his eyes. "I'll be back for your answer, Elena. Choose wisely."

As he turned to leave, he couldn't resist one final taunt. "And just remember, if you decline, your dear father will face the full force of the mafia's wrath.

With that, he departed, his goons in tow, leaving Elena alone with an impossible choice and a heart heavy with dread.