SARAH
I was blindfolded, my hands bound in front of me as the car bumped along a rough road. My heart raced, the sound of the tyres on gravel filling my ears. Where were they taking me? My mind swirled with fear. I tried to calm myself, but the darkness only made my thoughts more terrifying. Had they found out about our plan to run away? My mind raced with fear and regret. What if something had happened to my father? My heart ached at the thought of him, alone and worried. I strained to hear the men’s conversation, hoping to catch a clue about my fate or my father’s safety. “You think the boss will go easy on her?” one of the men asked, his voice rough and casual like he was discussing the weather. “Hell no,” another replied with a chuckle. “You saw how pissed he was. She’s lucky if she gets out of this without a few broken bones.” My stomach churned at their words. My father’s face flashed in my mind, his kind eyes filled with worry and fear. Had they already gotten to him? Was he hurt, or worse? “She’s got guts, though,” the first man said, a note of admiration in his voice. “Most people would’ve been crying by now.” “Yeah, well, guts don’t mean shit to the boss. He wants his possession, and he wants to send a message. No one crosses him without paying the price.” I shivered at the coldness in their voices and the casual way they spoke about violence and pain. The darkness of the blindfold seemed to close in on me, suffocating my hope. I had to stay strong, had to believe that there was a way out of this. “You hear what happened to that last guy who crossed him?” the first man continued. “He ended up in a ditch, missing a few fingers. They never did find his body.” A third man, silent until now, spoke up. His voice was quieter, more serious. “We shouldn’t be talking about this. Orders are orders, and we do what we’re told. The car finally came to a halt, and before I could gather my thoughts, I was yanked out. My feet stumbled on the rough ground, and I heard a harsh voice warn me, “Don’t scream or try anything funny, or you’ll regret it.” Still blindfolded, I was dragged forward, each step heavy with dread. The air grew colder as we entered what felt like a shed. The blindfold and the ropes on my wrists were yanked off, and I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the dim light. I took in the scenery for a brief moment—an old, eerie shed with tools and rusted equipment scattered around. My eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on a sight that made my blood run cold. My father was tied to a chair, his face battered and bruised. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, and one eye was swollen shut. “Papa!” I screamed, rushing towards him. I fell to my knees beside him, tears streaming down my face. “Papa, oh my God, what did they do to you?” His good eye opened, filled with pain. “Sarah… you shouldn’t be here,” he croaked, his voice weak and raspy. I turned to one of the goons, my rage boiling over. “You’re all heartless! How could you do this to him?” They all just started laughing, a cruel and mocking sound that echoed in the shed. One of them stepped forward. “Heartless? Sweetheart, this is just business. Your old man owes our boss a lot of money, and this is how debts are settled on this end.” I clenched my fists, shaking with fury and helplessness. “You don’t have to hurt him. Have you all no shame?!, just let him go!” The man grinned, showing yellowed teeth. “Anything, huh? We’ll see about that. But for now, you both stay put. The boss will be here soon, and he’ll decide what to do with you.” Another goon sneered. “Yeah, don’t get any ideas, girl. We're in control here.” I turned back to my father, gently touching his battered face. “Dad, I’m so sorry. I’ll find a way to get us out of this, I promise.” He shook his head slightly, tears mixing with the blood on his face. “It’s not your fault, Sarah. I never should have borrowed that money.” The door creaked open, and the goons straightened up, their expressions turning serious. “The boss is here,” one of them muttered. I held my breath, dreading what was to come. The door opened wider, and he walked in, his presence commanding and cold. His eyes swept over the scene, landing on my father and then on me. His expression was unreadable, but the danger in his eyes was clear. His men immediately went quiet, and the tension in the room got thick. The only sounds were my sobs and my father’s pained grunts. Marco stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “Well, well,” Marco said, his voice smooth and dangerous. “Looks like we have a little family reunion here. How touching.” “My name is Marco De Luca, my dear Sarah,” he said, his voice smooth but menacing. “I never really had the chance to introduce myself properly.” I glared at him through my tears. “Why are you doing this? He doesn’t deserve this!” Marco sighed, almost as if he was tired. “Let me tell you a story, Sarah. It’s about the importance of a man keeping his word.” He paced slowly, his eyes shifting between me and my father. “There was once a man who made a promise to his family, to protect and provide for them. But times were hard, and he found himself in need. So he made a deal with a powerful man, taking money with the promise to repay it. But he failed to keep his word.” Marco paused, looking at my father. “Do you know what happens when a man breaks his word? His family suffers. The powerful man doesn’t care about the reasons or the excuses. He only cares about the broken promise. And he will do whatever it takes to ensure that such disrespect is met with consequences.” His eyes darkened, the room seeming to grow colder. “Your father made a promise, Sarah. He took money from me, promising to repay it. And he failed. Then he tries to run from me? he must face the repercussions.” My father groaned, his head hanging low. “I’m sorry, Sarah…” Marco’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “This is what happens when a man doesn’t keep his word. People get hurt. Lives are ruined.” Marco took off his coat, hanging it meticulously on the back of a chair I hadn’t noticed was there. He then turned to me, his eyes cold and calculating. “Sit,” he commanded, pointing to the chair opposite him. I hesitated but then slowly walked over and sat down, my eyes never leaving his. “You’re heartless,” I spat. “You’ll never get away with this.” He cut me off with a firm, loud voice that echoed in the small shed. “The only reason your father is still breathing, Sarah, is because of you.” His words hung in the air, heavy with menace. “I don’t tolerate failures. Men like your father, deserve punishment. He’s only alive today because, for some reason, I find you… intriguing.” His words sent a shiver down my spine. How could he be so cruel and yet so calm? As he spoke, my mind raced. Marco continued, his eyes never leaving mine. “You should thank your lucky stars, Sarah. Without you, your father would be dead.” I glanced at my dad, slumped on the floor, beaten and broken. My heart ached for him. What had he gotten us into? Marco got up from his seat and walked over to me, his presence dominating the room. He stopped right in front of me, towering over me. “But I don’t just want you as a possession anymore, Sarah.” His voice was softer now, almost a whisper. “We’re going to get married, and I’m sure you won’t object, will you?” “And let me remind you, Sarah,” he said, his tone dripping with menace. “You have no choice but to accept my terms. You tried to run away with your father and look where that got you. The more you resist me, the more your father suffers. Do you understand?” I gasped, the shock of his words hitting me like a punch to the gut. “Married? You must be out of your mind.” He smiled, a cold, evil smile. “With that, I’ll write off your father’s debts. Consider it a generous offer.” My mind reeled. Married to Marco De Luca? I swallowed hard, my heart sinking. I knew he was right. Every act of defiance only brought more pain to my father. My own stubbornness had led us here. Marco leaned in closer, his hand gripping my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You’ll be a good girl and get excited for our wedding, won’t you?” I looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but darkness, he was enjoying this. My heart pounded in my chest, fear mixing with a sense of inevitability. I thought of my father, of all the pain he had endured. I couldn’t let him suffer any more because of me. Taking a deep breath, I nodded slowly. “Yes, I’ll do as you say.” Marco’s grip tightened for a moment, then he released me, stepping back. “Good. You’ve made the right choice. Your father’s debts will be erased, and you will become my wife.” I felt a lump in my throat, the reality of my situation sinking in. My life was no longer my own. I belonged to Marco now. But if it meant saving my father, I would endure it. I had to. I won’t let him break me.**********THIRD PERSONIt was late evening, the house quiet enough that the faint ticking of the clock filled the air. Maddalena sat in the lounge, one leg crossed over the other, a half-full glass of red wine resting on the table. The lights were low as she had been sitting there for almost an hour, not because she was restless, but because she was waiting. She always knew when the call would come. It was only a matter of time.When the phone finally rang, she didn’t jump. She reached for it calmly, her eyes on the darkened window as she answered.“Cara mia,” she said softly.The voice on the other end was cold and sharp. “You took your time calling, Maddalena.”She smiled faintly, not out of amusement, but habit. “I was waiting for you. I didn’t want to disturb.”“Disturb?” The woman’s tone cut through the calm. “What disturbs me is silence. Things have been too quiet lately. That girl, Sofia—she’s done absolutely nothing.”Maddalena leaned back in her chair, her wine untouched. “W
SOFIAThe office was almost empty. Everyone had gone home hours ago. Only the faint hum of the air conditioning and the buzz from my desk lamp filled the silence. The room looked cold under the dim light, papers scattered across my desk, a reminder of the day I had just endured.Marco had left with her. SARAH.I could still hear her voice from earlier, soft, polite, pretending to be professional. “Marco and I will be heading out to dinner to celebrate the first day. I trust you’ll take care of the remaining work.”The way she said it, calm and steady, like I was some assistant beneath her. She spoke to me like she was doing me a favor, like she belonged here more than I did. I could almost see the smug little smile on her face when she hung up the phone.I clenched my jaw, staring at the glass wall that reflected the empty office. My reflection looked unfamiliar, my eyes darker than usual. I felt humiliated.Marco hired her. Out of everyone he could have picked, he brought his wife in
SARAHThe restaurant was quiet, glowing with soft lights and the low hum of jazz. Everything smelled of expensive food and wine. I sat across from Marco, still in the same clothes I’d worn to the office, and couldn’t help feeling like I didn’t belong there. The people around us looked so polished, like they’d walked out of a magazine.Marco didn’t seem to care. He looked comfortable, leaning back in his chair with that relaxed air he carried everywhere. His tie was loose, his eyes steady on me. When the waiter poured the wine, Marco reached for his glass and smiled.“To your first day as my secretary,” he said.I let out a small laugh. “You’re really making this a thing, aren’t you?”“It is a thing,” he said. “You walked into my office this morning like you owned it.”“I was nervous,” I said honestly. “I just tried to look like I wasn’t.”He tilted his head, smirking. “You did well. The staff were watching you. Sofia especially.”I looked down at my glass. “I noticed.”Marco raised an
SARAHI sat behind the desk, staring at the screen like it was waiting to judge me. The room was quiet except for the sound of the air conditioner and the sound of conversation outside. My name was still definitely new here. People had whispered it like it carried some secret weight. The boss’s wife. The new secretary. The one who made Sofia tense.I opened the drawers one by one, trying to understand my space. Pens, sticky notes, files marked with initials I didn’t recognize. A small paperweight with the company logo. It felt strange, sitting in this office. Marco’s office was only a few doors away, but this was my corner now. I clicked through the computer, reading the day’s schedule. Meetings, calls, project updates, everything that kept this place alive.Through the glass wall, I could feel their stares. A few heads turned quickly when I looked up. Some smiled nervously, pretending they weren’t watching. Others just whispered, eyes darting between me and the door. I didn’t blame t
SARAHThe room went quiet.Sofia just stood there, eyes wide, her painted lips parting as if she didn’t believe what she had just heard. I could almost hear her heartbeat from where I stood. Marco’s words still hung in the air like smoke. “She’ll be my new secretary.”Her gaze flicked between us, then she let out a breathy laugh. “I’m sorry… what?”Marco didn’t answer right away. He was calm, the way he always was when someone challenged him. Hands in his pockets, steady eyes, quiet authority.Sofia blinked again, this time harder. “You can’t be serious,” she said, voice rising slightly. “You’re replacing me with her?”I felt the words hit me, but before I could react, Marco spoke. “You’re not being replaced,” he said evenly. “You’ll be assisting her transition.”“Transition?” Sofia repeated, her tone sharp, almost a scoff. “She has no clue how this place runs, Marco. You think she can handle calls, meetings, clients? She doesn’t even know the people who work here. This isn’t somethin
SARAHI sat in front of the mirror, brushing my hair slowly, the morning light slipped through the curtains, warm and calm, but my hands were shaking a little. I stared at my reflection, not because I wanted to admire myself, but because I was trying to picture what kind of woman I needed to look like for the day ahead. Someone capable.It had been so long since I’d done anything outside this house. Ever since Marco and I got married, I’d gotten used to waiting for him, planning dinners, and pretending that silence was comfort. But lately, it felt suffocating. The walls listened too much, the halls whispered my name when I passed. Today was different. Today I was going to work with him. Not as decoration, but as part of his world.I picked out a cream blouse and a black skirt. Nothing too bold. Just neat. Respectable. I wanted to look like I understood where I was going. As I buttoned my blouse, I caught my reflection again and smiled faintly. “You can do this,” I whispered to myself.