Debt Of Desire

Chapter2

Enzo's Pov

The black Rolls-Royce purrs to a stop across from the house, the engine idling low like a predator waiting to strike. I killed the lights and sat for a moment in the car looking at the windows. Her silhouette moved behind the thin curtains, pacing, gesturing sharply, arguing. Good, chaos inside means she wasn't expecting me.

Her father owed me seven figures. Years of compounded interest. He had signed the collateral, his shaky signature on the document in my glove compartment had been sealed months ago. Isabella Conti wasn't just repayment, she was the final piece in a long overdue ledger.

I stepped out, coat open to the cool night air, boots silent on the pavement. No hesitation. The street was quiet, Manhattan’s glow bleeding across the Brooklyn rooftops. I crossed to the porch in three strides and knocked on the door once— Sharp, deliberate.

The door flew open immediately.

There she was.

I’d reviewed her file enough times to know the shape of her defiance before I ever saw it in person. Photos didn't capture fire like that. They didn't show how her eyes would flash when she realized the truth.

Isabella froze mid-breath, hand still in the knob. Shock first, then fury— pure, unfiltered. She was smaller than the photos suggested, but the fight in her posture made up for it. Dark hair loose against her shoulder, lips parted in disbelief. Beautiful in the way broken things sometimes are: sharp edges, no give.

Her parents hovered behind like ghosts. The father wouldn't meet my gaze; the mother clutched her robe, already crumbling.

“Isabella,” I said, voice low enough to carry without effort. “ Your parents sent me, it's time to go.”

She didn't step back. Didn't scream. Just stared, chin lifted in challenge.

“Get out of my house,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremor underneath.

“I don't belong to you. I don't belong to anyone.”

My scar pulled as I allowed the faintest smile.

Brave. Stupid. Perfect.

“We will see about that, Cara.” I said, stepping forward despite her telling me to leave. The room smelled of cheap coffee and fear. I glanced at her parents. Her father flinched; her mother let out a small broken sound.

“We had no choice, Bella,” her father stammered, finally finding his voice. “ The debt… it was too much, he would have ruined us.”

At that Isabella finally turned towards them, her back facing me. “So you sold me like am nothing!” She said rage clearly visible in her voice. I didn't come to stay and watch the argument unfold so while she was still turned away from me, I moved, closing my hand around her upper arm firmly and impossible to shake off.

“Enough,” I cut in not raising my volume. The room went still as it should. I reached into my coat and withdrew the slim folder. Opened it one–handed, holding up the agreement so the lamplight caught their signatures. “Read it,” I tell her “or I can summarize, your parents borrowed seven figures for a failing business. Collateral: You. No loopholes. No appeals.”

She snatched the pages, tore it in half with a sharp rip. The pieces fluttered to the floor.

“Digital copies exist,” I said calmly “And debts accrue interests.”

She tries to wrench herself free and I let her go but not without stepping forward. She turned to grab a lamp and then lunged– whether to hit me or bolt, I didn't wait to find out. I grab her wrists, twisting them just enough to make her drop the lamp before letting her go.

“You can fight,” I murmured, close enough to feel her heat through the fabric. “But you will tire before I do. Five minutes. Pack what you need, or you leave with nothing.”

Her eyes blazed up at me. “Touch me again and I”ll—-”

I raised a single finger, cutting her off. “Look at me.” Her gaze flicked upward on instinct, her body obeying her before her mind could stop it. Satisfaction curled low in my gut.

“This can be difficult,” I add softly “ or impossible. Choose.”

Her parents watched in silence. Cowards till the end.

When she still refused to move, I scooped her up— bridal carry but possessive, one arm under her knees, the other locking her against my chest. She kicked, clawed, cursed in sharp bursts. I didn't flinch, her struggles only pressed her closer.

I'mI carried her through the doorway, down the stairs to the waiting car and deposited her in the passenger seat like valuable cargo. I rounded the car to the other side and slid into the driver's seat. The doors locked with a soft final click.

The engine hummed to life. City lights streaked past as we pulled away.

Silence stretched between us. She glared out the window, fists clenched, breathing hard. I watched her in the dim glow— pulse jumping at her throat, lips pressed thin.

“You think this makes me yours?” she finally spats. “ I”ll run the first chance I get.”

“You can try,” I said. “Many have.”

She looks away almost immediately.

“ Stop fidgeting.” I ordered quietly.

She froze instinctively. Hated herself for it; I could see it in the flare of her nostrils.

“Breathe. Slowly.”

She did— angry, shallow breaths at first, then deeper against her will.

“Better.”

“ Your parents choose survival over honor. I chose you. Make no mistake— this is permanent.” I add quietly.

The car merged unto the bridge towards Manhattan. Towards my world.

She whispered, almost to herself, “I will destroy you.”

I smiled into the dark. “ You will beg for more than destruction soon enough, Cara.”