4
1007 Words
Carmina's Restaurant exuded old-world charm, crystal chandeliers, white tablecloths, and waiters who moved with practiced discretion. To the regular patrons dining in the main room, it appeared to be nothing more than an upscale Italian establishment. Elena knew better now.
The driver had escorted her through the kitchen, past cooks who studiously avoided eye contact, and into a private corridor. At the end, a suited man stood guard outside a heavy wooden door. He nodded at her escort and opened the door without a word.
"Miss Russo," a smooth voice called from inside. "Please, join us."
Victor Castellano was not what Elena had expected. In her mind, mob bosses were aging men with weathered faces and cold eyes. The man who rose to greet her couldn't have been more than forty-five, with salt-and-pepper hair styled impeccably and the build of someone who still found time for the gym despite his expensive suits. His smile reached his eyes, which somehow made him more unsettling.
"Thank you for accepting my invitation," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.
As if she'd had a choice.
"Mr. Castellano." Elena kept her tone neutral as she sat.
They weren't alone. Anthony stood by the door, and a young woman with a tablet sat silently in the corner, her eyes downcast. A third man, tall, broad-shouldered, with features that seemed vaguely familiar, lingered by the window.
"Wine?" Castellano offered, already pouring a ruby-red liquid into a glass before she could refuse.
"I'd prefer to discuss my father's debt," Elena said, leaving the wine untouched.
Castellano's smile widened. "Direct. I appreciate that in business dealings." He set down the bottle. "Your father owed me a considerable sum, as you know. More importantly, he owed me respect."
"Respect?"
"Antonio worked for me for many years. Not as an accountant for restaurant supplies," Castellano said with a knowing look, "but managing certain financial aspects of my organization. He was talented, trusted. And then, he betrayed that trust."
Elena maintained her composure despite the shock. Her father had worked for the mob? "How?"
"He skimmed. Not much at first, but eventually, his ambition grew. When confronted, he claimed he needed the money for your mother."
"My mother left when I was seven," Elena said sharply.
Castellano exchanged a glance with the man by the window. "Is that what he told you? Interesting."
The casual way he cast doubt on everything she knew about her family cut deeper than any threat could have. "My father's gone now. Whatever happened between you?"
"Business doesn't end with death, Miss Russo. Debts must be settled. Balances maintained." Castellano's friendly demeanor never wavered. "Your father's debt transfers to his estate, which now belongs to you."
"I've gathered about fifty thousand," Elena said. "It's all I have. I can arrange payments for the rest."
Castellano waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not a bank, Miss Russo. I don't offer payment plans."
"Then what do you want from me?" The question emerged with more strength than she felt.
"I'm offering you an opportunity." He nodded to the woman in the corner, who slid her tablet across the table.
On the screen was what appeared to be an auction listing. With growing horror, Elena realized the "item" being described was a person. The clinical language detailed physical attributes, skills, and "entertainment value."
"You're selling people," she whispered.
"I'm brokering arrangements between willing parties," Castellano corrected smoothly. "Some debts can only be paid through service. We find appropriate matches for those services."
Elena's stomach churned as understanding dawned. "You expect me to"
"To honor your father's debt, yes." His voice hardened for the first time. "Tomorrow night, you will be presented to a select group of my associates who have expressed interest. The winning bid will clear your debt. In exchange, you will belong to the bidder for a period determined by the final amount."
"That's slavery," Elena said, her voice shaking with anger and fear.
"That's business," Castellano replied. "And far more generous than what happens to those who attempt to cheat me." His gaze flicked to Anthony, who shifted slightly, revealing the gun holstered beneath his jacket.
The mysterious caller's advice echoed in Elena's mind: Request twenty-four hours... if an opportunity presents itself, take it.
"I need time to consider this," she said, forcing her voice to steady.
"There's nothing to consider. Either you appear tomorrow night willingly, or you appear unwillingly. The outcome remains the same." Castellano's smile returned. "Though I advise the former. Damaged merchandise fetches lower prices."
Elena's mind raced. If she refused outright, she might not make it out of this room. If she pretended to agree, she'd have until tomorrow night to do what? Run? With Castellano's reach, how far could she get?
"Twenty-four hours," she said. "To put my affairs in order. I assume you'll want me... presentable tomorrow night."
Castellano studied her, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Your mother had the same talent for negotiation. Very well. Twenty-four hours, with supervision." He nodded to the man by the window. "Gabriel will escort you home and remain with you until tomorrow evening."
A babysitter with a gun. Perfect.
"The auction begins at nine," Castellano continued. "Gabriel will deliver you to the preparation room by seven. I suggest you use this time to adjust your expectations, Miss Russo. Your life is about to change dramatically."
As if it hadn't already. Elena rose on unsteady legs, desperate to escape the suffocating room.
"One more thing," Castellano said as she reached the door. "That necklace you sold today, the sapphires. They belonged to your mother, correct?"
Elena froze. "How did you"
"I knew Sofia quite well before she... departed." His smile turned knowing. "You have her eyes. And apparently, her survival instinct. I look forward to seeing if you share her other talents."
Gabriel took her arm, guiding her from the room before she could respond. As the door closed behind them, Elena heard Castellano's final words to Anthony:
"Inform our guests that tomorrow's feature presentation will exceed expectations."
- Writer
