Emma.
The alarm clock rang with a shrill sound, and I woke up to rays of sunlight on my face, feeling as if a bulldozer had run over me when I chased after that darn bus, which ended up leaving without me. I was lost about which direction to follow now that I was unemployed, so I got up and went to my father's room to check if he was okay and had already gone to work. I knocked repeatedly on the door, but there was no response. I slowly opened the door and, to my surprise, he wasn't there. Where could he be?
It was only six in the morning, and at this time, my father would usually be up and getting ready for work. I called him three times and got no answer. Worry began to settle in my chest, as my father had struggled with alcohol in the past. While he seemed to have stopped recently, I was still deeply concerned.
No sign of him picking up. "Damn it," I muttered.
Since my father wasn't home, and I couldn't just wander around looking for him, I decided to have my breakfast. I made toast with eggs and, looking at the pantry, I realized that supplies were running low. I needed to find another job urgently to ensure we'd have food.
I grabbed my plate and walked down the hallway towards the living room. My eyes weren't fully open yet, and I felt somewhat deflated. As I reached the living room, I heard unfamiliar voices. The dark curtains obscured my full view, but I could see two men sitting in my living room, looking at me with neutral expressions. Instantly, my body went cold, and all I could think of was escaping. However, running away probably wouldn't get me far, as looking back, I saw a man tall enough to block the exit.
The sensation that something terrible was happening engulfed me. The dark-haired man in the room spoke calmly, his voice carrying an Italian accent: "Sit down, ragazza."
"Who are you? And why are you in my house?" I asked, trying to keep my composure, though it was a difficult task.
"We're following orders. We've come to find your father. Where is he?"
"I don't know," I was honest.
"Don't lie to me, Emma. You wouldn't want to see your pretty face hurt." He spoke, making air quotes with his fingers when he mentioned "pretty."
How did he know my name? And why were they looking for my father? I was utterly lost, and this felt like a nightmare, the worst kind of nightmare.
The man kept staring at me, and his "henchman" in the other armchair was also watching me intently. I swallowed hard as I saw the gun on the man's waist, purposely left visible.
"Speak, girl!" He lost his patience and brought the gun closer to my face, but was interrupted by the other man.
"Don said no harm to the girl, he wants her in perfect condition," he took the gun from the man's hands.
"I've already told you I don't know where my father is. What do you want with him? He's an honest man, he hasn't done anything!"
They laughed, as if mocking what I had said, as if it were all a joke. Tears threatened to escape, but I held them back. I couldn't show weakness in front of these men; it would only make things worse.
"Your 'daddy' - he made air quotes again - 'honest' owes a fortune to my boss, both in gambling and in alcohol. He's an addict, and the deadline to pay is over. So, we'll wait for him to come home, no matter what time."
No, this couldn't be true. My father wouldn't do that. It meant he was gambling and spending what little we had on games and drinks. And who were these men, who seemed extremely dangerous? They wore black suits and radios on their belts, and outside the window, I could see an expensive car parked.
"You don't need to do this. I'll find a way to pay," I pleaded desperately.
"Ragazza, you've got nothing. At least you're very pretty, and so it is."
The anguish grew in my chest as time passed. The men lit cigarettes, showing impatience. Until I heard the door open. It was my father. I became apprehensive, unsure of what they would do to him. He was the only person I had in the world, flaws and all.
My father entered the room and was met with the scene: the man sitting beside me, a gun aimed at me. He tried to approach but was stopped by the henchman.
"Hold on." He put his hand out, halting my father's movements. "I warned you, Ramon, that if you didn't pay your debt, there would be no forgiveness. The boss doesn't give second chances, and you know that."
"It doesn't have to come to this. I'll pay," my father begged, asking for my release.
"Ramon, you're making Don look like a fool, and he doesn't tolerate being made a fool of. We'll strike a favorable deal. My boss has been observing your life, and it's impossible not to notice your daughter's beauty." He said, and I widened my eyes. "He'll keep your daughter until you pay the hundred thousand you owe."
"No, Dad, you can't allow this. We'll find a solution," I screamed, desperate.
"Pablo, this isn't necessary. Leave my daughter out of this; she has nothing to do with it. I've already said I'll pay."
"Decision made, Ramon." He pulled me off the couch by my arm. Tears streamed down my face, and I looked at my father, desperate.
He did nothing, didn't come after me, couldn't meet my eyes.
My world crumbled at that moment. It was as if nothing else made sense. I was being sold to pay a debt I had nothing to do with. It was agonizing. I just wanted to disappear at that moment.
"Dad..." I whispered, a plea for help.
"I will find you, wherever you are, Emma. I will find you. Forgive me, forgive me, daughter."
I looked at him with sadness and desperation, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. The man restrained my hands and led me out of the house through the back. My life was fading away in that moment, in the blink of an eye.
He pushed me into the back of the car and quickly blindfolded me, preventing me from seeing where we were headed. The vehicle started moving, and my heart ached with anxiety. Deep down, I knew something terrible was about to happen. Every bump in the road heightened my anguish as I remained silent, afraid of what was to come.
EmmaAfter a long journey inside that car, I struggle to maintain my lucidity, but the voices continue to echo in my mind, like a constant disturbing buzz. My mind wrestles between the need to face reality and the desire to escape into a mental refuge. The images of my father's worried expression as the men tore me away from his presence remain ingrained, a painful memory that haunts me.Finally, the car comes to a stop, and silence settles, broken only by the sound of doors opening. I feel hands guiding me out of the vehicle, and the blindfold is removed from my eyes. The daylight dazzles my senses for a moment, but soon I find myself in a place that seems to be Don's mansion, an equally dark and intimidating setting. The oppression around me is almost palpable."Move, girl," he muttered."Son of a bitch," I whispered angrily."What did you say?!" he glared at me."Nothing."He led me to a beautiful place; the mansion rises like a monument to his wealth and absolute control. It's a b
Andrew DeLuca.After my parents' passing, I took over full control of the businesses. I was discreet, and I needed to be, for I was the Don.The "Don" in a mafia organization is the term we use for the supreme leader or head of the criminal family, and well, that was me. Andrew DeLuca.My parents came to New York to establish businesses here when I was still very young. I didn't know anything and thought life was a game. Until I witnessed my father's death before my eyes.I don't remember much about my mother, she left when I was very young. Or at least, that's what my father told me. Since then, I learned to be alone—well, I had a younger sister, Isabella. Ize had a strong personality, which unfortunately caused me more trouble. She was active in the mafia too, but unlike me, she had a good heart and compassion, which I found useless in our world.So, my childhood wasn't easy at all. The mafia was my only family. It was one of the few things I had left. I didn't have other options.W
EmmaI slid my hands along the railing as I climbed the stairs, feeling the security guard following behind me, watching each step I took with meticulous attention. I felt like a cornered prey, a prisoner in every move I made.Andrew DeLuca possessed an aura of authority that spread wherever he went. Every word that came out of his mouth was like a blow, intensifying my anger and desperation. I didn't want to be here, didn't want to be part of this arrangement, but my father's life was at stake, and I couldn't ignore that.My attempts to contact the outside world had been thwarted. They took my cell phone, and I found myself completely isolated. I had always been the master of my own life, and being in this situation of vulnerability was distressing. All my freedom had been taken away from me.The security guard stopped in front of a door, and an elderly woman named Clara appeared."Ms. Emma, I'm Clara. Mr. DeLuca asked me to take care of everything you need. This will be your room fo
Emma The atmosphere was tense and filled with anticipation as I stood by Andrew DeLuca's side, surrounded by the inquisitive glances of his associates. I felt like an intruder in a dark and dangerous world, one I had never imagined becoming a part of. I wondered how I had ended up here. It was something I certainly wished I could change, but as I couldn't, I looked ahead and faced the harsh reality. DeLuca smiled enigmatically at the gathering as if relishing the attention our arrival had garnered. His arm remained firmly around my waist, a silent possession that sent a clear message to everyone present. "I don't want to hear a word more than you should say," he whispered. "I won't say anything more, as long as our deal continues, and my father is safe," I replied with a wink. "I am a man of my word, Emma." He introduced me to each person as if he were holding a trophy, and from what I gathered, getting married was important for him to keep up appearances. The people here seemed
EmmaI got out of bed carefully, my feet touching the floor with light and cautious steps. The knock on the door had pulled me out of my thoughts, but it had also ignited a wave of fear and panic within me. I knew who was on the other side of the door, and the mere idea of facing Andrew DeLuca made my heart race.My steps led me toward the door, my fingers hesitating on the doorknob before finally turning it slowly. I was only in a corset, and I hadn't even realized it until he scanned me from head to toe.The door swung open, revealing the imposing figure of Andrew DeLuca, his dominant posture filling the room's threshold. His intense eyes were fixed on me, and despite my attempts to decipher his expression, it remained an enigma."What do you want?" I spoke, my voice carrying a mix of challenge and nervousness."Is this how you treat your future owner and husband, Emma?" His voice sounded with a mix of sarcasm and au
Andrew DeLuca The silence of the night enveloped me as I finally left Emma's room. The door closed behind me, isolating her from the outside world, but also leaving me alone with my tumultuous thoughts. I walked through the silent corridors of the mansion, my steps firm and determined, but my mind a true storm of internal conflicts. Emma's eyes still danced before mine, an intriguing mix of challenge and vulnerability. She was like a burning flame, difficult to extinguish, even in the face of the circumstances I had created. I wanted her, that was undeniable. From the moment I first saw her, something about her drew me uncontrollably. But I also knew she represented a key piece in my plan, a way to solidify my position as the Don in the hierarchy. While the voices of the association members echoed in my mind, I knew that my decision to marry Emma had been met with a mix of surprise and suspicion. They saw me as just a young man suddenly willing to commit. But I needed to prove I w
Emma I was sitting in my room, staring into space, lost in thoughts about how my life had taken such an unexpected turn. The forced marriage to Andrew hung over me like a dark shadow, and I wondered if I would ever find a way out of this nightmare. I couldn't stop thinking for even a minute. I was pulled from my thoughts when a soft knock on the door echoed through the room. My heart jumped in my chest, and I wondered what it could be this time – was it him? The door opened to reveal one of DeLuca's security guards. "Miss Emma," he said in a deep voice, "Mr. DeLuca requests your presence in his office. He wants you to choose your wedding dress today." I sighed inwardly. Just what I needed. This day was inevitable, but it didn't mean I was looking forward to it. Imagining myself choosing a dress for a day I never even planned for. Andrew DeLuca was determined to keep up appearances, and I needed to make him believe I was committed to this marriage, at least until I found a way to p
Emma The day of the engagement had arrived, and I was immersed in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I didn't want to see these people, and having to pretend to be a happy bride was suffocating. Andrew and I had to continue defining the wedding details, although it was he who truly dictated the rules. We maintained the facade of a passionate couple for the mafia family. It was as if we were building a forced alliance. I thought of my father; every day, I thought of him. How was he doing? Did he think of me? Surely, he was better off than I was. That was clear. The day was just beginning, and I could hear the hustle and bustle of people working, probably preparing for the damn engagement. I left the room in search of some distraction. I was hungry, but I didn't want to go downstairs. After all, I was still a stranger in this mansion. I walked through the hallways silently, marveling at the grandeur of the place. That's when I found a partially open door. My heightened curiosity c