☕ Chapter 4 —CAFFEFINE AND COLD STEEL
416 Words
Luciano Rossi didn’t sit behind his desk — he prowled around it like a lion circling prey.
Elias stood stiffly in the center of the office, flanked by the two enforcers who’d dragged him here. The room was silent, save for the soft clink of a spoon stirring coffee. Luciano’s movements were deliberate, almost sensual. He lifted the cup to his lips, inhaled deeply, and took a slow sip.
“₦50 million,” he said, finally. “That’s the debt your father left behind.”
Elias’s throat tightened. “I didn’t know. I didn’t sign anything.”
Luciano’s gaze was sharp. “Ignorance doesn’t erase obligation.”
“I didn’t ask for this,” Elias snapped. “I just sell coffee.”
Luciano stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “You sell my coffee. My beans. My brand. You’ve built a business on blood and silence.”
Elias’s voice cracked. “I didn’t know.”
Luciano tilted his head. “But you do now.”
He turned to a sleek tablet on his desk, tapped a few buttons, and rotated it toward Elias. A contract appeared — signed by Elias’s father. The terms were brutal. The interest, unforgiving. The clause at the bottom: “Debt transferable upon death.”
Elias’s knees buckled. “He never told me.”
Luciano leaned in, voice low. “He didn’t need to. I always collect.”
The enforcers shifted. Elias felt the weight of their silence — the threat in their stillness.
Luciano walked to the window, looking out over the city. “You have two choices,” he said. “Pay the debt. Or work it off.”
Elias swallowed. “How?”
Luciano turned, eyes gleaming. “You’ll be my personal supplier. My daily attendant. You’ll bring me coffee — and more.”
Elias’s heart pounded. “More?”
Luciano smiled. “Obedience. Presence. Submission.”
Elias stared at him, stunned. “You want me to be your servant?”
Luciano stepped closer. “I want you close. Where I can taste your defiance. And teach you surrender.”
Elias felt the floor shift beneath him — not physically, but emotionally. The world he knew was gone. Replaced by something darker. Magnetic.
He nodded, barely.
Luciano’s smile widened. “Good. Tomorrow, 7 a.m. Sharp.”
As Elias was escorted out, he glanced back. Luciano was sipping his coffee again — Elias’s blend.
And for the first time, Elias wondered what it would taste like… if brewed with submission.
- Writer
