BOUND TO THE DON

CHAPTER 4: THE OFFER

My dad woke up on the couch with a spinning headache.

"Good morning, Dad," I said, setting a tray of food in front of him, “and here are pills for the headache," I added, handing them to him.

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver."

We both began laughing. I picked up my bag from one of the sofas.

“I'm off to work, Dad. Love you, and I'll be a bit late. I’m going to stop by the market to get a few things... The fridge is empty. So I’ll restock."

“Okay, pumpkin, I don't have much, but.”

He went into his room, then came back with some cash. “Take this.”

“Ahh, Dad, don't worry.”

“I want to help—”

“I know, Dad, keep it for next time.”

He smiled gratefully, though he felt a little guilty. But I knew he needed the cash more than I did. “What would I do without you, pumpkin?”

“I love you too, Dad. I’ve got to go. Catch you later, bye-bye!”

“Bye, pumpkin,” Dad said, waving me goodbye as he watched me disappear down the road, then locked the door.

****

(ALESSANDRO POV)

The car slowed as we pulled up in front of the small house.

I stepped out, adjusting my cufflinks as my gaze swept all over the building. So this is where she lives. Nothing about it matched what I expected. It looked pleasant

I walked toward the door, my men falling into place behind me; the air around the house felt... Homely.

I knocked once.

Footsteps approached from inside. Then the door opened.

“Ah, Elena, forget any—" He paused on his words and the smile on his face that disappeared the moment he saw me.

“Mr. Miller," I said calmly as I stepped inside the house as if I owned the place.

"Mr. Bellini, I... I didn't expect—.”

“No one ever does." My reply was stern.

I looked around the house once, taking in every detail—every portrait hanging on the wall, every piece of furniture, and every sign of Elena’s life.

“Your house looks…easy on the eye,” I said, lighting a cigarette I had taken from my breast pocket.

Then I turned and faced Victor. “We need to talk.”

Without asking for permission, I sat down slowly on the sofa and motioned for Victor to do the same. My leg crossed over the other like a man with all the time in the world. Then one of my men handed Victor a file.

Victor opened it. His hands tightened around the file.

“Twenty million dollars, that's how much you owe me.”

His face was drained of color. His lips found it hard to form a complete sentence.

“I can explain——”

“You see, Mr. Miller… I'm not here for an explanation,” I interrupted, taking another puff from my cigarette. “I’m here for payment.”

“I… I don't have that kind of money … I just need a little time. I will pay,” Victor said, his voice breaking.

“Hmm…” I motioned for another file to be handed to him and continued, “I know you don't have my money... But you signed a debt contract and have only…"

I checked my Rolex. "Twelve hours to pay up," I said with a sarcastic smile.

His hands began to shake. “Please give me more time…please… I will come up with something … I will sell the house.”

I leaned back in my seat, staring intensely at Victor, my gaze piercing into his soul.

“Do you think this house,” I said, pointing at the apartment, “could pay even a quarter what you owe me?”

At this moment, Victor was sweating. No solutions came to mind, yet I remained calm.

I got up from where I had been sitting, my cigarette still in my hands. Taking a long puff, I exhaled directly at his face… then smirked.

“I can make all this go away,”

Victor quickly looked up, panic rising in his chest. “How, sir?”

“I’m willing to offer you a deal.”

Victor stared at me. His eyes full of desperation, “What kind of deal?”

“You either repay your loan or give me something of equal value."

Confusion spread across his face. “I don't have anything worth that much.”

I walked calmly toward the TV console and picked up a small portrait of her.

“You have a very beautiful daughter, Mr. Miller." I lifted my head to meet his.

“No… no, Mr. Bellini, anything but that. Anything but her, she's the only thing I have left,” Victor said, tears threatening to fall.

My eyes still fixed on him, I said, “By tonight you will either give me my money…or something that belongs to you.” Then I added,

"Prison is not kind to men like you, Mr. Miller. I wonder who would protect Elena then?”

“How did you… How did you know her name?”

“Eleven hours left, Mr. Miller…. What's it going to be?”

****

(ELENA POV)

I returned not long after I left. I had forgotten my uniform in a hurry earlier that morning.

I slipped in quietly through the back door, careful not to disturb my dad; he should be asleep right now. As I made my way to my room, I heard voices coming from the living room.

I recognized one of them as my father's.

The other voice was unfamiliar… calm, deep, and controlled. Something about it made me feel uneasy.

I walked slowly toward the living room.

The voices became clearer as I got closer. When I got to the living room doorway—

And froze.

Him.

The man from the restaurant.

The man who walked into the cafe and made the entire room go silent.

He was standing by the TV console, his hands in his pockets.

All eyes in the room turned toward me, but my eyes were fixed solely on him.

“You,”

My father stood up quickly. “Elena, go to your room.”

I didn't move. I couldn't move.

“What's going on here?” I asked, my eyes still not leaving his, "And what is he doing here?

No one answered. The room felt heavy.

He walked toward me until he stood right in front of me.

expressionless.

He studied me… like a man examining something he had just acquired. And for some reason, I wasn’t scared—not one bit.

"Dad, are you ok?” I asked worriedly.

"He is… for now,” he said calmly.

I frowned. “Clearly, I’m missing something," I said, trying to understand what was going on.

He adjusted his cufflinks slightly. "I will leave that part to your father to explain.”

The room fell into stillness again.

He glanced at his watch. “Well, Mr. Miller, your time is ticking, and I’m running out of patience."

He turned fully to my father. “You have nine hours left. When I come back, you'd better have made a decision." He paused, then shifted his gaze to me.

His gaze was hard and unreadable.

“And I would advise you to choose wisely.”

He walked toward the door, then stopped for a brief moment. Turning back. His expression was cold and composed.

“I’ll be seeing you both very soon.”