Alessia’s Pov
“Signorina Alessia?”
I looked up to see a guy in a sharp gray suit standing in an open door. He waved me into his office.
“Please, have a seat,” he said, introducing himself as Signor Rossi. He took my clipboard, scanned it, and his face got more serious with each line.
Finally, he set the clipboard down and steepled his fingers. “Miss Alessia, your income is too low for a loan of this size. You also don’t have any assets for collateral.”
I leaned forward, my desperation creeping in. “Please, Signor Rossi. It’s for my mom. She has cancer and really needs chemotherapy. I’ll work extra shifts—whatever it takes to pay back the loan. I just need help.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m sorry, but the bank’s rules are strict. Without a higher income o
