The Contract

Nine O'clock

{ELARAS POV}

I couldn't just sit there. Not while those men had him.I paced the living room, nearly tripping over the edge of the rug before I lunged for my bag and keys on the kitchen counter. My hands were shaking so badly the metal jangled loudly in the quiet apartment. I had to do something. I couldn't just wait around for a seventy-two hour clock to tick down.First, I needed to call the hospital. I was supposed to work tomorrow morning, but there was no way I could show up and pretend to check blood pressures while my brother was shoved in the back of some car. I pulled out my phone and dialed the charge nurse’s direct line.It rang three times. "St. Mary's ER, this is Karen.""Karen, it's Elara." I hated how thin and reedy my voice sounded. "I need to take emergency leave. Starting right now."A heavy pause came over the line. "Elara? Your shift doesn't start until tomorrow. Are you okay?""No. I mean, yes, I'm physically fine." I pressed my palm against my forehead, trying to force my brain to cooperate. "It's a family emergency. My brother. I can't really explain on the phone, but I need someone to cover my schedule for the next few days.""How many days are we talking about?""I don't know," I said, my voice cracking. "However long it takes. Please, Karen. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't life or death."I heard the distinct sound of papers rustling on her end. Karen was probably staring at the whiteboard, trying to figure out how to stretch an already burnt-out staff. "Alright. I'll see what I can do. But Elara, you know we're short-staffed. I can cover you for maybe three days, four at most. After that, it has to go through HR.""I understand. Thank you so much."I hung up before she could ask anything else. Staff shortages and HR policies felt like they belonged to a completely different universe. None of it mattered if Matteo didn't make it through the week.I shoved my arms through my jacket sleeves and stood by the front door. Where would loan sharks even take someone? I didn't know a single name, a location, or a face. I just had that cold voice from the phone call.I looked down at my screen and hit Matteo’s number again, even though I’d already tried twenty times. It went straight to the automated voicemail beep."Damn it, Matty," I whispered to the empty room. "Where are you?"My mind raced toward the police, but the thought died instantly. What would I tell them? My brother borrowed fifty grand from criminals to gamble, and now he’s missing? They’d file a report, tell me to wait forty-eight hours, and probably investigate Matteo instead of looking for him. And if the loan sharks found out I went to the cops, they might just decide Matteo wasn't worth the trouble of keeping alive. I couldn't risk it.I stood in the center of the room, fully dressed, keys in hand, ready to fight, and absolutely nowhere to go. The absolute helplessness of it hit me like a physical weight.Then the phone buzzed in my hand.The sudden vibration made me jump. I looked at the screen, my heart hammering against my ribs.*Unknown Number.*I swallowed the lump in my throat and swiped the screen. "Hello?""Miss Santos," the same flat voice said. "I assume you've been trying to reach your brother."My stomach dropped. "Where is he? What did you do to him?""Nothing yet," the man said, sounding almost bored. "But that depends entirely on how cooperative you're going to be tonight.""Please," I said, detesting the desperation in my own voice. "Don't hurt him. I'll find the money. I'll figure out a way to pay you, just give me some time.""Time is a luxury you don't have, Miss Santos. But I'm calling to offer you a shortcut. A chance to settle this quickly.""What kind of shortcut?""Come see us. In person. Tonight. We'll discuss the terms of your brother's debt and see what kind of payment plan we can work out."A cold sweat broke out across the back of my neck. "Come see you? Where?""I'll text you the address when we hang up. Come alone. No police, no friends, no backup. If I see anyone else, your brother pays for it. Understood?"My mind screamed at me that this was a trap. They had Matteo, and now they wanted to grab me too. But I didn't have leverage, and I didn't have choices."How do I know he's even alive?" I asked, trying to sound steadier than I felt. "How do I know you didn't already hurt him?"The man let out a small, amused sound. "You don't. You'll just have to trust that we don't like damaging the merchandise before we get paid. Dead men don't pay debts, Elara. And neither do sisters who are too traumatized to work."The casual, business-like cruelty made me sick to my stomach. "Let me talk to him. Let me hear his voice.""That's not how this works. You don't make demands. You follow instructions. Come to the address. Tonight. Alone. Or your brother's debt gets paid in blood. Your choice.""Wait"He wasn't finished. His voice dropped lower, losing the bored tone and turning incredibly sharp. "And don't think about running, Miss Santos. We know where you live. We know you work the ER at St. Mary's. We know your schedule, your routines, everything. There is nowhere you can hide where we won't find you. So save us both the mileage and just show up. Nine o'clock sharp."My throat was so tight I could barely breathe. "How will I know where to go?""You'll know." There was a dark, unsettling edge to his voice now. "Trust me, you'll know.""What if I can't get the money?" I blurted out, desperate to know what the stakes really were. "What if there's no way for me to raise fifty thousand dollars?"The silence stretched out over the line, long enough that I thought he might have hung up on me. When he finally spoke, his words made my blood run entirely cold."Then we'll find another way for you to settle the account. There are always alternatives, Miss Santos. Always other forms of payment."I knew exactly what he meant, and the implication made me want to throw up right there on the floor."I'll be there," I whispered. "Nine o'clock. I'll come.""Smart girl. The address will be on your screen in sixty seconds."The line clicked shut.I stood frozen, the dead phone still pressed to my ear. Exactly one minute later, the screen lit up with a text from a scrambled number.*1404 Industrial Boulevard.*I knew that neighborhood. It was out on the edge of the city, a wasteland of abandoned manufacturing plants and empty warehouses. The kind of place where people went to dump old tires, where nobody would hear a scream, and where a body could disappear into the concrete without anyone noticing.I had to go. I had to walk straight into whatever trap they were setting, because Matteo was inside it, and I was the only person left in the world who cared enough to try and pull him out. I’d already failed him by not noticing how deep his gambling problem had gotten. I wasn't going to fail him again.I looked at the clock on the stove. 6:30 PM.I had exactly two and a half hours to figure out a plan, or lose everything trying.