DEFYING THE DON

Alessia’s POV "Papa, please! You can’t do this to me!" My voice cracked as I held onto his arm hidden in his expensive suit like I was holding on for dear life. He wouldn’t even look at me, he has his eyes fixed on the floor while his hands were shaking. "It’s just for awhile, piccola. Just until I fix everything." His voice shaked like he was not sure of what he was saying. "What are you fixing? You told me the business was fine! You said…" "I SAID MANY THINGS!" The roar in his voice made me jump. Mama was in the corner holding her rosary while she cried quietly. "Some debts aren’t just going to go away!" he continued. My legs suddenly became weak, "Debts? To who?" "Don Torretti." He said the name like it tasted bitter. "He is the most powerful man in Northern Italy. I owe him more than we have." "So you’re handing them your daughter?" My laugh came out hateful and shaky. "Like I am some farm produce or livestock?" "You don’t get it!" He whirled around, eyes wild. "They were going to kill us! All of us. Your mama, you, me, our entire family. This is the only choice!" "There's got to be another way, please?" I said as tears dropped out of my eyes. "There isn’t." Mama’s voice was so quiet, "He tried everything, amore. This is...this is it." I stared at her. "You’re just going to let him do this? You’re letting him sell me?" "It’s not selling!" Papa slammed his fist onto the table. I jumped. "It’s collateral. You’ll stay with Don Torretti until I pay him back. That’s all." "And for how long? A month? A year? My whole life?" He didn’t answer. And then I heard sounds of car engines in the driveway. From the window, I could see black SUVs with their tinted windows rolled up, headlights off, and grim as a funeral. Mama’s voice trembled in fear. "Dio Mio, they’re here." I moved backward, toward the stairs. "No. I’m not doing this. I won’t…" "Alessia, listen to me." Papa’s voice softened, like a prayer. "Don Torretti isn’t a monster. You’ll be safe there. Safer than here." "Safe?" I almost shrieked. "With the mafia? Is this your idea of safe?" Just before he could reply to me, there were three heavy knocks on the front door that made my heart race. "Open it," Papa whispered to mama. Mama made the sign of the cross as she made her way to the door, hands trembling. Three men walked in, dark suits and faces like carved granite. The tallest had a scar from his ear to his chin. "Don Rossi." The scarred man’s voice was politely cold. "I’m Vincent. We’re here for the girl." "She’s ready," Papa said, but his voice sounded nothing like him. "No, I’m not!" I said defiantly. Vincent looked right at me. Eyes cold, he didn’t care. "Miss Rossi. Your father told you everything?" I glared at him and blurted, "My father’s a coward. He’s trading me to save himself!" "Alessia!" Mama’s voice stabbed the air. Vincent came closer while his men followed behind him. "This is business, Miss Rossi. Your cooperation makes it easier for everybody." "And if I refuse?" Vincent barely twitched. "Don Torretti is owed millions. The interest rolls over every day. Refusing isn’t an option." Millions. I almost hit the floor. The olive farm was in trouble, yeah, but this? "How’d it get that bad?" I whispered. "Ask your father about the gambling," Vincent shot back. "And the loans. And then the loans taken to cover those loans." My chest tightened. "Gambling? You did this to us for gambling?" Papa shut his eyes. "I was just trying to make things right. I thought if I won big…" "You gambled away my life?" It hurt to even say it. "We’re on a schedule," Vincent said, bored. "Pack a light bag, Miss Rossi. You won't be away for long." "And I’m just supposed to believe you because you say so?" Something like a smile flickered on Vincent’s face. "If your father doesn’t pay it back, you’re permanent property." That landed like a punch. Mama started sobbing harder. "This is kidnapping," I blurted out. He shrugged. "It’s business. Your father signed. It’s legal." "Legal for who?" "For people more important than the police." One of the men stepped forward; he looked younger than the rest of the men, his eyes weirdly gentle. "Miss, just pack your bag. Don Torretti wants things on time. He doesn’t like delays." The message couldn’t have been clearer. I looked at my parents, broken and terrified. I felt myself break, too. "Ten minutes," I whispered. "No, Alessia!" Mama reached for me. "It’s done." My voice sounded dead, stripped out. "This is what Papa chose for me." I went upstairs, numb, Vincent’s men right behind me. I shoved some clothes into my smallest suitcase. I left everything else: pictures of my friends, my college acceptance letter and dreams of a free life in Rome. When I came back down, I saw my parents holding on to each other like they’d drown if they let go. Vincent nodded at me. "Say goodbye." Mama hugged me so hard I could barely breathe, begging for forgiveness. Papa was just silent as he hugged me, but I felt a teardrop on my shoulder. "I’ll come back," I whispered, even if I didn’t believe it myself. "I’ll come back when it’s over. Just tell my brothers not to worry." Vincent gestured towards the door. "Let’s go." The kind-eyed man took my suitcase. "I’m Marco," he murmured. "I’m your personal bodyguard." I just nodded; it's not like my opinions mattered in anything. We walked to the black SUVs. Mama’s wailing followed me outside; it was so raw. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. "Where are we going?" I asked Marco as he opened the door. "Your new home," Vincent said from the front.