The Price of a Life
Elena Rossi always believed her father’s lies.
“Everything is fine.”
“Just a few late bills.”
“I’ll fix it, I promise.”
But nothing about the black SUV parked outside their tiny home looked “fine.”
Her father stood frozen by the window, his face pale as ash. Elena clutched her backpack—she was supposed to be leaving for university orientation. Instead, an unease twisted in her stomach.
The SUV door opened.
A tall man stepped out.
Black suit. Black gloves. Black soul, if Elena had to guess.
He moved like he owned every piece of ground his shoes touched. When he lifted his gaze to the house, she felt it—like a hand closing around her throat.
Her father’s voice cracked.
“Elena… whatever happens, don’t argue.”
The door burst open before she could speak.
Two men in suits walked in without permission. One of them scanned the room with dead, practiced eyes.
“Elena Rossi?” he asked.
She nodded slowly, heart pounding.
“You’ll come with us.”
Elena’s voice trembled. “I’m not going anywhere. Who are you?”
They ignored the question. The second man tossed a thick envelope onto the table. Papers spilled across the wood.
Debt notices. Threat warnings.
Signatures. Her father’s signatures.
Her father collapsed to his knees with a sob.
“I just needed more time,” he whispered.
A shadow fell over the room as the first man stepped closer. His voice was smooth, deep… lethal.
“You had all the time my boss allowed.” He paused, eyeing Elena like she was being measured for something terrifying. “But he has decided to settle the debt in another way.”
Elena’s breath caught.
“What… what way?”
The man lowered his voice, almost amused.
“You will marry Lorenzo Valentino. Don of the Valentino crime family. And you will belong to him.”
Elena felt the world tilt beneath her.
Marriage?
To a mafia boss she had never met?
“No,” she choked out. “No, I won’t—”
A finger lifted to her chin—gloved and cold.
“You don’t have a choice.”
And then she saw it.
A limousine turning the corner. Sleek. Silent. Deadly.
The back door opened.
And Lorenzo himself stepped out.
Dark hair swept back.
Sharp jaw.
Eyes like winter… and judgment.
His gaze locked onto her and didn’t move.
As if he’d found what he came for.
As if she was already his.
Elena’s heart shivered.
Lorenzo’s lips curved—not in a smile, but a promise.
“Hello, wife.”
