Collateral To A Mafia King

CHAPTER 1 — The Deal Sebastian Vitale POV The restaurant is full today. I hear soft jazz humming through the speakers. Plates clinking. Drinks pouring into crystal glasses. This is what peace sounds like. What safety feels like. When people feel safe, money is made. But that changes the moment I walk in. Heads turn. Conversations stop mid-sentence. Forks freeze halfway to mouths. Eyes drop to tables. Bodies shift away. Fear. It spreads faster than gunfire ever could. My men follow behind me. Enzo Vitale, my right-hand man, walks beside me. All of us in black suits. Disciplined. Dangerous. Silent. No one dares to stand. Good. I see Marcello waiting near the back. He sits near the hidden vault door behind the wine shelves. His leg moves under the table, shaking. His fingers tap the wood again and again. He knows why I am here. I walk straight to him. Stop in front of his table. “Marcello,” I say calmly. “You’re late.” His mouth opens. Then closes. Sweat forms on the side of his face. He wipes it away fast. “I—I had to reroute. Police barricade. It took longer than expected.” A lie. Different this time, but still useless. I say nothing. I only look at him and let the silence scare him. He swallows hard. Then I notice her. Sitting beside him. Young. Poised. She is too calm for a place like this. She wears a simple black dress. Not flashy, but expensive. Her blonde hair falls over one bare shoulder. Her posture is elegant. Relaxed. She looks like she is only here to eat. She raises her glass to her lips. Whiskey, I think. Her eyes don’t even flicker toward me. No fear. No concern. Not even curiosity. In a place built on danger and death, she sits like nothing here can touch her. That is what draws my attention. Fascinating. I study her face. Sharp features. Noble bone structure. Grey eyes that look tired, like they have seen too much life. This isn’t some gangster’s mistress. This is bloodline. Royalty, maybe. Or something close to it. Marcello sees me looking at her and clears his throat. “My daughter,” he says fast. “Rhee.” She does not look at me. She does not react when he says her name. Interesting. “Vault,” I say. Still watching her. This time, her eyes lift. They meet mine. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just… exists. No fear. No desire. Nothing. Most women tremble when they see me. Most beg for attention or mercy. Not her. Not now. Not ever, I think. Rare. Inside the vault, the air feels cold and heavy. Concrete walls. A single table. No windows. Just us. “The cash,” I say. Marcello signals one of his men. The man places a briefcase on the table. Opens it. Stacks of money. Clean. Perfect. Organized. “Offload the products,” I say to my men. They move immediately. Bags of product are set on the floor. Marcello signals his men to take them. I lift my hand. Everyone stops. Marcello looks at me. His eyes narrow slightly. Confused. “I check my money first,” I say. I signal two of my men. They step forward. Flip through the stacks. Count. Examine. Test the bills under the light. Then they look at me. That look tells me everything. Fake. I draw my gun. Point it at Marcello’s head. My men do the same. Guns up. Aimed. Ready. Marcello freezes. His hands shoot up. His men reach for their weapons. Too late. My men already have theirs out. “No one cheats me,” I say in a calm voice. My gun steady. “And no one who tries… lives.” I glance at Rhee. She has not moved. She has not even blinked. Her eyes stay on her glass. She acts like none of this matters. Something strange tightens in my chest. Respect. Marcello’s voice breaks. “Wait! Wait, please!” He looks at his men. “Drop your guns!” They hesitate. Then obey. “Someone switched the cash!” Marcello pleads. His voice shakes. “It was not me! Something went wrong!” I don’t lower my gun. “You have thirty minutes,” I say, checking my watch. “Bring the real money.” Hope shows on his face. Then dread replaces it. He fumbles for his phone. Steps away. Makes frantic calls. His hands shake so much he almost drops the phone. I watch. Wait. He turns back to me. Then to his daughter. “Rhee…” His voice sounds broken now. “Do you have any money at all?” He looks at her. She looks at him. Disgust fills her face. Cold. Sharp. She says nothing. Marcello turns back to me. “I can give you property! Routes! Weapons! Shares in my businesses!” I lift my brow. “What property?” No answer. “Nothing you have right now,” I say slowly, “is worth what you owe me.” He breathes fast. He rubs his head and looks around, trapped. Then his eyes land on Rhee. “My daughter,” he blurts. Rhee chokes. She coughs hard. Drink spills from her lips. Her hand moves to her chest. She turns to him, shocked. “What?” she whispers. I tilt my head. Curious now. I lower my gun slightly. But my men keep theirs raised. “Take her as collateral,” Marcello rushes. His words tumble out fast. “For one month. Just one. Till I bring your money.” I move toward Rhee. Her scent hits me first. Floral. Expensive. Her skin looks softer up close. Her grey eyes burn now. Fury replacing the emptiness. “And if you fail?” I ask Marcello. My eyes stay on Rhee. His voice cracks. “Then… then you can have her. As your wife.” Her hands close tightly into fists. Knuckles white. Rage floods her face. I smile. “She becomes my property for one month,” I say calmly. I turn to Marcello. “And if I don’t see my money in one month’s time—” I look back at Rhee. This time, I let her see the want in my eyes. “She becomes mine. Permanently.” She meets my gaze. Hatred blazes there. Raw. Pure. Unfiltered. I lean down. Close enough that my lips almost touch her ear. “You’re mine,” I whisper. We walk out of the vault together. I hold her arm. Not rough. But firm. Possessive. She doesn’t fight. Doesn’t scream. Doesn’t cry. She just walks beside me. Silent. Empty again. As we pass through the restaurant, she looks back once. At her father. He stands there. Broken. Guilty. She turns forward again. Looks at nothing. Most women would die to be in my arms. To have my attention. My protection. My wealth. Not her. As the doors seal behind us and my car pulls up, I’m certain of one thing— I’ve just claimed something rare. Something dangerous. The girl walking silently at my side isn’t afraid. Isn’t broken. Isn’t surrendering. She’s watching. She’s waiting. And somewhere behind those empty eyes, a war has already begun. One that will decide whether I own her… Or whether this deal will be the first mistake that costs me everything. As we drive into the night, I watch her grey eyes through the window and notice something new. A small spark. When she finally speaks, her voice is low and dangerous. “You’ll regret this.” I smile. “We’ll see.”