DEBT OF DESIRE

TWENTY-FOUR HOURS

The words hit me like a bullet. Marry him?

For a second, I thought I misheard. Maybe I was dreaming. “You… you can’t be serious,” I said, my voice trembling. “This is a joke, right?”

Rafael’s face told me everything. Stone-cold. No hint of humor. “I don’t joke about family, Miss Russo,” he said, sipping his whiskey like he’d just ordered coffee, not my life.

“Look, I can pay you in another way. I can’t marry you… I can’t marry a criminal like you!” I shouted, hoping he’d understand.

“Oh?” His brow arched, amused. “I’m a criminal now? Then why did you come begging at a criminal’s door? That makes you no different from me.”

I froze, his words slicing me open. My lips moved, but no answer came. “Look… I’ll be your servant if that’s what you want. I don’t care. Just don’t do this. Please, Rafael. I have a future ahead of me.”

“That’s my condition,” he said flatly. “If you want my help, you marry me. I won’t force you—but I also won’t negotiate. If that will be all, Miss Russo, you may leave.”

He stood, sliding a gun into the back of his trousers like it was part of his suit.

I rose too, numb, my legs shaking. This wasn’t the life I wanted. Guns. Blood. Marriage to a man like him.

“Miss Russo,” his voice stopped me at the door. “Take my number. You have twenty-four hours. After that, the deal is gone.”

He turned his back on me, climbing the stairs like a king dismissing a subject.

I looked down at the number in my hand, my chest tightening. Twenty-four hours to decide between freedom and my mother’s life.

The drive home felt endless. My head spun so fast I thought I’d lose my mind.

When I finally walked in, Jake and Pamela were sleeping on the couch, asleep.

Pamela woke first, stretching. “Ohh, you’re back.” Jake blinked awake beside her.

“Hey, I didn’t want to wake you,” I said, forcing a smile to hide the storm inside me.

“So?” Jake sat up straighter. “Did you meet him?” Pamela leaned in, eyes wide.

“Yes. I met him.” I collapsed on the couch, exhaustion heavy on my shoulders.

“And?” Pamela asked quickly. “Is he going to give you the money?”

“Yes… he’s going to give me the money.”

They both cheered, relief washing over their faces—until Jake frowned. “Wait. A man like Rafael doesn’t hand out money to strangers. What’s in it for him?”

Pamela’s gaze pierced me. “There’s a but, isn’t there, Aria?”

I exhaled sharply. “Yes. He’ll give me the money… but he wants me to marry him.”

“What?!” they both shouted at once.

Pamela’s jaw dropped. “I knew that man was crazy, but this? Aria, this is insane!”

“And he wants an heir,” I whispered.

“No, Aria.” Pamela shot up, pacing. “This is beyond messed up. Don’t tell me you agreed.”

“I didn’t… not yet.”

“Not yet?!” Jake’s voice rose.

“He gave me twenty-four hours,” I said, tears burning my eyes. “If I don’t agree by then, it’s over.”

Pamela groaned, disgust written all over her face. “He’s a gangster, Aria. Imagine your life with him—guns, violence, and danger every second.”

“I know!” I buried my face in my hands. “But what choice do I have? If I don’t, my mother…” My voice broke. “She’ll die. And if she finds out I married him for her sake, she’ll never forgive me.”

Jake’s voice softened. “You’re right. Your mother would lose her mind if she knew.”

We spent the next hour remembering her before she got sick, laughing at old stories. For a moment, I almost forgot the chain tightening around my neck.

By the time Jake and Pamela left, the night was heavy.

“Goodnight, Aria. Whatever decision you make, we’ll stand by you,” they said before driving off.

I locked the door, too drained to cook. I made a bowl of noodles, but before I could eat, my phone rang.

“Hello, am I speaking to Aria Russo?” a voice asked.

“Speaking.”

“This is Heartlife Hospital. Your mother is stable, but… there’s a new patient who needs her bed. Since you haven’t paid for the last three months, she’ll be transferred to a public hospital tomorrow morning.”

“No—please!” I panicked. “They promised me a week. I’ll pay by the end of the week!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” The line went dead.

I dropped the phone, tears spilling. Hopelessness crushed me, pressing down like stone. Then I remembered—the number Rafael had given me, still in my jeans pocket.

Hands shaking, I dialed.

“Who’s this?” His voice was cold, commanding.

I swallowed hard, my throat raw. “I’m ready to marry you.”

The line went quiet. For a second, I thought maybe he had hung up. Then his low, dangerous voice slid through the phone like smoke.

“I knew you’d come around.”

I froze, goosebumps rising on my skin. He sounded satisfied—like this was the outcome he’d predicted all along.

“Sleep well, Gabriella,” he added. “Tomorrow, your life, as you know it ends.”