Vows Written in Blood

Chapter 1: The Transaction

My father and I entered the villa, and the first thing I thought was the air inside was too thick, it smelled of old money and the acrid air of expensive cigars that somehow lingers in the walls of places like this. My father was perspiring though the marble corridor was icy, and he was fussing with his tie as if it were a noose, but I held my chin clouded in that we were here under the usual pretense of conducting business with a commercial loan.

We trailed a sharply dressed man down a long corridor lined with grim-faced ancestral portraits, and at last, we came to a set of enormous oak double doors that seemed sufficiently weighty to seal a tomb.

When we entered the study, the man at the desk did not even raise his gaze at first: He was merely glancing down at a pile of papers and tapping his finger wreathed with a golden ring against the wooden surface. This was Luca De Rossi, and he was nothing like the bankers my father had met before, for he exuded a calmness that stirred unease in me, a forewarning I couldn’t quite articulate clearly yet. ​

"Sit down, Arthur," Luca said, his voice like smooth gravel, and at last he turned his gaze on us, sweeping me up and down as if I were some sort of equipment he was contemplating buying for one of his warehouses.

“You’re too kind, Mr. De Rossi, I have the newest financials right here and you’re gonna find that the recovery plan is rock solid,” my father babbled, his voice cracking as he fumbled with his briefcase.

Luca didn’t even take the folder my father was offering, he just reclined backward in his leather chair and looked at me again, as if I were under a microscope. “I didn’t bring you here to discuss shipping routes or interest rates, Arthur, we know your company is a corpse and you’re hunting for someone to bury it for you.”

“I can turn it around, I just need the liquidity,” my father begged, and I had a hollow sense of shame opening in the pit of my stomach, because I had never seen him look so powerless.

“You require thirty million euros,” Luca cut in, his voice entirely flat, “and you have no collateral left since you’ve already mortgaged everything to the silver in your kitchen.”

I glanced at my father, anticipating his protest, but he only turned white and looked down at his feet, so I chose to speak up. "If the firm is such a hopeless case, then why are we even here, Mr. De Rossi? You don’t look like the kind of man who spends a leisurely afternoon amusing people he’s under no obligation to assist."

Luca’s gaze flicked to me, and for a moment I thought I glimpsed something other than boredom, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “You’re a sharp tongue Elara, your father didn’t mention that one in our correspondence, though he did say you were his greatest asset.”

"I'm a consultant for the firm, not an asset," I shot back, but my father grasped my wrist, his fingers trembling so violently I could feel the tremors.

“‘Elara, just let me take care of this,’ he begged, and then he turned back to Luca with a look of hopelessness. "Is the contract good to go? I've been over the terms you sent this morning."

Luca pushed a bulky dossier across the desk, and I saw as my father withdrew a pen from his pocket without glancing at the document. “Wait, what contract? Dad, you have to let me read that, we haven’t even talked about the repayment schedule or the equity split.” I reached out for the paper, but Luca’s hand shot forward and held it down on the desk, his long fingers tanned against the white page. "This is not a business merger the way you understand it, Elara, it's a transfer of debt."

My dad scrawled his name across the bottom of the last page, and then stood up without so much as glancing in my direction, his face a mask of utter guilt. ​ "I’m sorry, Elara, it was the only way I could think of to save the family name, and Mr. De Rossi has assured me that they will care for your mother and me for as long as we live."​

“What are you talking about? Save the name from what?” I asked, but he was already heading for the door, running from the room. I attempted to go after him, but the man who had brought us in was now in the doorway, preventing me from moving forward like a rock wall.

I turned back to Luca, my heart pounding in my chest and I pointed at the paper resting on the desk. "What did he just sign? If this is even remotely about the company, I want to see the terms right now."

Luca got up from his seat and to my surprise he was a lot taller, he went around the desk and was only a couple inches away from me, smelling of sandalwood and cold air. "He signed a marriage contract, Elara, the thirty million has been paid in full, and in return, you remain here as my wife until I choose that the debt is clear. "

I felt like the floor was beneath me, and I actually laughed because it sounded too ridiculous to be real. "We're not in the middle ages, you can't buy a person, and I’m leaving right now with my father."

“Your father is already in the car, and the gates are closed,” Luca said flatly as I looked around, the walls inching closer. “You could scream or you could try to run, but that won’t alter the fact that the De Rossi estate now owns you, and I suggest you get used to that very quickly.” "You expect me to just go along with this? I'll make your life a living hell," I said chokingly, part furious, part terrified.

Lucia took another step towards me, and as his shadow enveloped me, he peered down at me with those icy, pragmatic eyes. "You are a line item on a ledger, Elara, don't expect a fairy tale and don't think your defiance makes you special because to me, you are simply a solution to a problem."

He walked through the door without looking back, leaving me alone in that dark, stifling room. I glanced down at the pen still resting on the desk where my father had sold me, and I felt a cold, hard knot tighten in my chest. He thought he purchased a mute slice of land, but I was going to make him rue every coin he laid on me, and I wasn’t going to let this place shatter me no matter how long he held me captive here.