Sold to the Mafia King

The soft chime of Aria Rossi's alarm echoed through her small apartment before dawn. She groaned, stretched lazily beneath the faded gray blanket, and reached for her phone. 5:30 a.m. Another day. Another shift. Another endless race against bills she could barely afford. She sighed and sat up, staring at the cracked ceiling above her bed. For a few quiet seconds, she allowed herself to imagine a different life. A life where her mother wasn't lying in a hospital bed. A life where her father smiled instead of looking haunted every time he came home. A life where she didn't have to work two jobs just to keep food on the table. But dreams never paid rent. Reality did. Aria climbed out of bed, tied her long chestnut-brown hair into a ponytail, and slipped into her café uniform. She glanced at the family photograph on her bedside table. It had been taken eight years earlier. Back then, her mother was healthy. Her father laughed often. And Aria believed nothing could ever break them apart. She smiled sadly before placing the picture back where it belonged. "I'll fix everything," she whispered to herself. "I have to." The café was already crowded when she arrived. "Morning, Aria!" her manager called. "Morning!" She immediately got to work, serving coffee, cleaning tables, and smiling at customers even though exhaustion weighed heavily on her shoulders. Most customers barely looked at her. Some thanked her. Others treated her like she didn't exist. She had learned not to care. By noon, her feet ached. She had just handed a customer their cappuccino when her phone vibrated inside her apron pocket. Dad Calling... Her heart skipped. Her father never called while she was working. She quickly answered. "Dad?" Silence. Only heavy breathing. "Dad? Are you okay?" His voice finally came through. "...Come home." "Dad?" "Please." The line went dead. Aria stared at the phone. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Two hours later... Rain poured from the dark clouds above as Aria hurried toward her childhood home. Her shoes splashed through puddles while panic twisted inside her chest. The front gate stood open. It was never left open. She pushed it wider. "Dad?" No answer. The house felt... Wrong. Too quiet. Too still. Then she noticed the expensive black cars parked outside. There were six of them. Every window was tinted. Every car identical. Her heartbeat quickened. Who were these people? She stepped inside. The living room was empty. A shattered vase lay on the floor. One of the chairs had been knocked over. Fear crept into her chest. "Dad?" Still nothing. Then she heard voices coming from his office. Slowly... Carefully... She walked down the hallway. The office door was slightly open. She pushed it. The first thing she saw wasn't her father. It was blood. A crimson stain spread across the marble floor. One of the security guards lay unconscious beside the desk. Another clutched his bleeding arm. Aria froze. Her breathing stopped. "D...Dad?" Marco Rossi slowly turned toward her. His face had gone pale. Fear filled his eyes. "No..." he whispered. "You weren't supposed to come." "D...Dad?" Marco Rossi slowly turned toward her. His face had gone pale. Fear filled his eyes. "No..." he whispered. "You weren't supposed to come." Aria ignored him. She rushed into the office, kneeling beside the unconscious guard. "Oh my God..." His pulse was weak. He was still breathing. Relief washed over her. "What happened here?" she demanded, standing abruptly. "Who did this?" No one answered. Only then did she notice the men lining the room. Six men. Each dressed in tailored black suits. Each standing perfectly still. Each wearing an earpiece. None of them looked like ordinary bodyguards. Their eyes followed her every movement. An uneasy feeling settled deep inside her stomach. Then... Footsteps echoed from the hallway. Slow. Measured. Confident. Every man in the room immediately straightened. One by one, they lowered their heads in silent respect. Aria frowned. Who could possibly command such fear? A tall figure appeared in the doorway. He stepped inside without saying a word. His black suit looked as though it had been made just for him. His dark hair was neatly styled, and a silver watch rested against his wrist. But it wasn't his appearance that caught Aria's attention. It was his eyes. Cold. Sharp. Unreadable. They swept across the room before stopping on her. For several long seconds... Neither of them spoke. Aria hated the way he looked at her. As though he could see through every wall she had built around herself. Marco suddenly dropped to his knees. The sound echoed through the silent office. "Mr. De Luca..." His voice trembled. "Please." "Just a little more time." Aria's eyes widened. "Dad!" She rushed toward him. "What are you doing?" "Get up!" Marco refused. Instead, he kept his head lowered. "I'll repay every cent." "I swear it." The stranger finally spoke. His voice was calm. Almost gentle. Which somehow made it even more frightening. "You've been saying that for two years." Aria looked between them in confusion. "Who are you?" The man turned his gaze toward her. "Lorenzo De Luca." The name struck like lightning. She had heard it before. Not from the news. People never mentioned the De Luca family on television. They whispered the name. Taxi drivers. Shop owners. Businessmen. Everyone knew the De Luca family controlled half the city's underground world. And everyone knew one rule. Never owe them anything. Aria swallowed hard. "So..." she said carefully. "You're the one threatening my father?" A faint smile tugged at the corner of Lorenzo's lips. Not amusement. Interest. "No." He answered quietly. "I'm here because your father broke an agreement." Aria looked at Marco. "Dad..." "What agreement?" Her father covered his face with shaking hands. "I'm sorry." She felt frustration rising inside her. "Sorry for what?" "Tell me what's happening!" Marco's shoulders shook. "I borrowed money." "How much?" Silence. "Dad!" "...Twenty million dollars." The room seemed to spin. Aria stared at him. Unable to breathe. Unable to think. Twenty... Million? Her father owned a small shipping business. How could he possibly borrow that much money? She turned toward Lorenzo. "You're lying." "I'm afraid I'm not." Aria shook her head. "There has to be some mistake." "There isn't." "My father could never—" "He signed the papers himself." One of Lorenzo's men stepped forward and placed a thick file on the desk. Lorenzo opened it. Without saying a word... He slid a document across the polished wood. Marco's signature covered the last page. Real. Undeniable. Aria's hands began to tremble. Her father hadn't just made a bad decision. He had buried them alive. She looked back at Marco. "Why?" Tears streamed down his face. "I wanted to save your mother." The anger inside Aria disappeared instantly. Her mother. Years earlier... Doctors had diagnosed her with a rare heart condition. The surgeries. The medication. The endless hospital bills. Marco had tried everything. Loans. Selling property. Working day and night. But it had never been enough. Aria slowly closed her eyes. For the first time... She understood. Not because she agreed with what he'd done. But because she finally saw why. Lorenzo quietly closed the file. "I didn't come here to discuss the past." His voice cut through the silence. "I came to collect what belongs to me." Marco crawled forward on his knees. "I'll find the money." "I promise." "You have my word." Lorenzo looked down at him without emotion. "I no longer want your promises." He took one slow step closer. "You have forty-eight hours." "If the debt isn't paid..." He paused. The room held its breath. "...I'll collect it another way. Lorenzo's eyes shifted toward Aria. A cold shiver ran down her spine. For the first time that day... She felt genuinely afraid