Chapter 1

LEILA

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The rain never smelt fresh here. Never.  It soaked into the old, lined building that looked tired of existence and clung to the air, melding with the stale rot of spilled beer and the acrid tang of burnt cigarettes thrown on the pavement of the alley shrouded in darkness.

I strode through it anyway, fingers tightening around the damp bills in my hands. The wetness didn’t bother me. Once dried, it could be used again.

I counted the notes slow, doing maths I was never good at. Mom’s hospital bill. Dad’s debt…there’s nothing left.

I barely registered the chipped brick of my building, or the termite-infested wooden stair, until I was at the door of my apartment.

The moment I creaked the door open, I knew something was wrong.

“Thank goodness you’re back.” My father scurried towards me, his breath burning with the pungent smell of cheap beer, his washed black singlet hanging loosely over his alien bony frame. Thanks to years of drug usage.

My stomach twisted.  But it wasn’t his sight, but them. The men who stood beneath the light. Tall. Huge. Almost swallowing the whole space of our living room.

One of them, tattoos creeping up his throat to the back of his ear, stared at me through his heavy lids.

My father grinned, so wide, that one might think he had won the lottery.  “She’s the one,” he slurred, “my daughter.”

His words hit the air and my stomach twisted further. Twisted in the ugliest of ways. This wasn’t the first time men came in looking for him. They always did. Stood tall over him, waiting for him to cough up what he owed.

I knew one day they’d come and take something else. An organ, maybe, a limb. Something they could sell.

But they weren’t here for him.

But me.

The tattooed man appeared before me, his eyes raking over me like was assessing a livestock for purchase. His fingers shot out, clamping around my chin.

My skin flared with pain as his thumb pressed into my jaw, forcing my lips open, and revealing my well aligned teeth.

My father’s gaze still on us.  “Is she enough to pay my debts?”

“She’s perfect.”

My heartbeat ceased.

“She’ll work for it.” The man added. Too eagerly.

A hot sensation crawled at the back of my neck and I snapped my head to my father. “What are you doing?”  My voice cracked from the weight of the horrifying tension.

“You’ll be fine. Once we clear this debt, I can start taking care of your mother.”

A lie. He never did. Every money he took ended up in the hands of bars, and gambling dens—never ours.

Realizing my situation, desperately, I thrust my hand into my pocket and brought out my salary—a month of blood and sweat— and handed it over. “I have the money. Take. This should be enough.”  My trembling hands fumbled at my necklace and I yanked it off. “You can have this. It’s not too expensive, but it would fetch some money.”

A smile—one that coiled a bitter sensation at the base of spine—spread across the man’s lips. Followed by a scoff. “You think this is a negotiation.” His eyes fell to the green notes and necklace on my hand, before grabbing it.

My chest lightened but tightened as he tossed it to the floor.

Before I knew it, I was being hauled over his shoulders, his shoulder pressing hard into my stomach. I twisted, kicked, nails clawing at his skin—all useless. I was weak beneath his grip.

“Let me go!” I screamed a ragged pitch, one that echoed off the walls with peeled wallpaper.

The man chuckled. Did he find it amusing? As he pulled me out of my home, the last sight was my father bent over picking up the money on the floor.

My mother was in the next room—she was sleeping, too sick to know, too weak to stop it.

Despite being dragged to experience whatever hell they had in store for me, one thought that lingered wasn’t for me, but my mother.

Who would take care of her, now that I’m gone?

***********

Maybe hours, Maybe a day had passed. I couldn’t tell. I had been locked up in a windowless room, so there was neither day nor night for me. It was like a box where time stood still.

The only sign of time passing was when the door opened and someone brought food. Food that remained untouched, abandoned in the corner of the room. It had begun to go stale, its stench lacing the already-laden air.

They had locked me here, saying I had to wait for the one that would decide my fate—their underboss, Leonardo Alvaro. I still remember the chill that shook my core as I realized the family I had been sold to.

The Alvaro family ruled Las Vegas with fear and terror that made the street cower at the whisper of their name.  

And now I was here, in their Den.

I curled tighter on the bed, its rough sheets felt sticky against my skin, unwashed for who knows how long.

My mind slipped back to where everything had gone wrong. Back to my mother.

We had a better life once. I was young, and I had the luxury of three square meals and a room to myself. Step siblings who loved me like their own. And my mother—A husband who cared, who provided, who wasn’t drowning in alcohol and terrible decisions.

So why had she left him then? Why had she gone back to my father?

Love.

The word left a sting on my tongue.  Did love make people stupid and reckless? If that was love then, I never wanted it. I never wanted to be like her.

The door swooshed open, snatching me out of my thoughts. I lurched to a sitting position, my muscles weak and quivering from hunger.

The same who had dragged me here stood before me. “The boss is here.” He turned around and headed towards the door.

My stomach churned, but I rose to my feet and followed behind. I trudged behind his trail, through the dimly lit hallways, up the stairs, and then sunlight.

It burned against my retina, but I accepted it gratefully. At least I could see something other than the same walls.

He led me to the room and made me sit.

 “The boss will see you soon.”  He stood still by the corner of the room.

After a few minutes, the door swung open and the figure stepped in.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Jet-black hair, a hue that looked like the moonless sky.

My inside clenched.

I knew those eyes. Those grey eyes that held some speck of blue. I knew him.

My breath hitched as his gaze burned down on me.

I was expecting a monster, a stranger. Not him. Not my ex step-brother. Not Damien.

Damien I knew wouldn’t be here. Couldn’t be here.