CHAPTER 2 — BLOOD DEBT
1287 Words
Smoke still hung in the air.
Mira pressed her back against the wall, breathing fast. Her ears rang from the gunshots. Broken glass covered the floor. Somewhere downstairs, a man groaned in pain.
The mafia leader stood in front of her, steady, alert, like the chaos was normal.
“Stay here,” he said quietly.
“I am here,” she whispered back, shaking.
Two of his men rushed past them, checking the hallway and stairs.
“Front is clear.”
“Back door secured.”
“Three attackers down.”
The leader nodded once. No smile. No relief. Just control.
“See?” he said to Mira. “Interview almost done.”
“That was not an interview,” she said. “That was a war.”
“For us, same thing.”
She stared at him. “Do you live like this every day?”
“Only on busy days.”
She couldn’t tell if he was joking.
More footsteps came — this time calmer. Men in black suits, armed, organized. Not wild like the attackers. These were trained.
One of them looked at Mira. “Who’s she?”
“Staff,” the leader answered.
Staff.
Just like that — her life changed with one word.
He turned to her. “You’re coming with me.”
“Where?”
“My office downstairs is broken now.”
“That’s your concern right now?”
“Yes.”
They walked carefully down the stairs. The once beautiful club floor looked like a storm passed through it. Tables flipped. Bottles shattered. Bullet holes in the wall.
She stepped around a body and quickly looked away.
“I can’t do this,” she murmured.
“Yes, you can,” he replied. “You’re still walking.”
They entered a secure room behind the bar — a steel door, keypad lock. Inside was clean and quiet, like nothing happened outside. Screens on the wall showed camera views of the building.
He put his gun on the table and finally looked at her fully.
“You didn’t run.”
“I tried,” she said. “My legs didn’t listen.”
“That still counts.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “Who attacked you?”
“A small rival crew,” he said. “They thought tonight was a good night to be stupid.”
“You say that very calmly.”
“Emotion is expensive in this business.”
She looked at the screens. “Is this what your ‘debt collecting’ looks like?”
“Sometimes.”
He opened a small fridge, took out a bottle of water, and handed it to her. She blinked in surprise.
“Drink,” he said. “Shock dries the throat.”
“Thank you.”
He leaned against the table. “Now we continue.”
“Continue what?!”
“Your job.”
She almost laughed. “You’re serious?”
“Very.”
“You were just attacked!”
“And I’m still alive. So we continue.”
She drank water slowly, hands still trembling. “Explain again.”
He tapped the folder she still held. “Your old manager stole layered funds. He split the money through many small accounts. That creates smoke. You will clear the smoke.”
“I don’t have bank access.”
“You’ll have temporary mirrors — copies of records we already pulled.”
He slid a tablet toward her. It showed transaction logs.
Her eyes changed — fear slowly replaced by focus.
Numbers were her safe place.
“You already traced some,” she said.
“Yes. But you think differently. Fresh eyes find hidden doors.”
She studied the patterns. Transfers. Delays. Round numbers broken into strange amounts.
“He’s looping,” she said quietly.
The leader watched her. “Explain.”
“He sends money out — then sends a smaller amount back through a fake vendor. It looks like expense refunds.”
“Go on.”
“He’s not hiding the last forty percent in banks,” she added. “He’s hiding it in assets.”
“What kind?”
“Movable ones. Cars. Equipment. Maybe crypto wallets connected to shell IDs.”
A small pause.
Then — the first real smile from him.
“Good,” he said softly. “Very good.”
Her cheeks warmed. “I told you I’m not useless.”
“I never thought you were.”
“Then why test me like this?”
“Because desperate people sometimes break under noise.”
“Gunfire is not noise!”
“It is here.”
She shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
One of his men spoke through the radio: “Area secure. Police scanner shows no response. Clean.”
“Good,” the leader answered. “Start repairs.”
Mira frowned. “Police aren’t coming?”
“They were paid not to hear.”
She stared. “Of course they were.”
He turned back to her. “Seven days. Build the trail. Show me where the hidden value sits.”
“And then?”
“Then we collect.”
“What happens to him?”
“Depends how polite he is.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is the only one you get.”
She looked down at the tablet again. “If I do this… my father’s bill is really cleared?”
“Yes.”
“No tricks?”
“No tricks.”
She met his eyes. “Why keep your word?”
“Because reputation is my currency.”
That sounded honest.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it.”
“Good.”
“But I have conditions.”
His eyebrow lifted slightly. “You’re negotiating?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting. Continue.”
“I work somewhere safe. Not in gunfight buildings.”
“Approved.”
“I get food and sleep.”
“I’m not a monster.”
“I can call my father.”
“Yes — monitored.”
“I knew it,” she sighed.
“And,” she added, “I want your name.”
He studied her for a long second.
“Adrian,” he said at last.
She repeated it softly. “Adrian.”
“Now we are not strangers,” he said. “Now we are partners in debt.”
“I don’t like how that sounds.”
“You will.”
A loud crash echoed upstairs as cleanup crews moved furniture.
She flinched.
He noticed. “You’ll get used to the noise.”
“I hope not.”
He picked up his gun again and holstered it. “You start tonight.”
“Tonight?!”
“Momentum matters.”
“I almost died one hour ago!”
“And now you’re employed. Big progress.”
She almost smiled despite herself.
He walked to the door, then stopped. “One more rule.”
“What?”
“If anyone asks who you are — you work directly for me.”
“Is that supposed to protect me?”
“Yes.”
“And if your enemies hear that?”
“They will think twice before touching you.”
“Only twice?”
“That’s usually enough.”
She took a breath.
Debt. Danger. Mafia boss named Adrian.
“This is really happening,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he said. “Welcome to the ledger.”
Outside the safe room, the broken club slowly came back to life — like violence was just a short interruption.
Mira realized something important then.
She didn’t step into a temporary job.
She stepped into a different world.
And it already knew her name.
- Writer
