THE MAFIA'S FORCED BRIDE

MYSTERY BOX

CHAPTER 2

HARLEY

“The sole property and lawful wife of the lender.”

Those ten words had haunted my darkness, stripping away every second of sleep.

I sat at the dining table, staring blindly into a lukewarm mug of black coffee. The heavy, dark circles under my eyes were raw proof of a night spent weeping on my pillow until my throat was dry, and my heart throbbed behind my ribs. The morning air in the house felt thick, heavy with an agonizing silence, a far cry from the cheerful chatter and clinking cutlery that usually filled our breakfasts.

I had zero appetite. I picked at a piece of dry toast, utterly incapable of swallowing a single bite, and I certainly didn't have the stomach to look up and meet the guilty, bloodshot eyes of my parents sitting across from me.

An hour later, I was on campus, moving through the crowded hallways like a ghost. I forced myself to sit through two back-to-back lectures, but my brain was completely detached. Professors spoke, chalk scraped against whiteboards, and students rustled through pages, but to me, it was all muted background noise. I couldn't concentrate on a single sentence. Every equation, every historical date, every note transcribed on the board bled together, replaced by the terrifying image of a contract signed in black ink.

Sitting next to me, my best friend, Lesley, noticed my detachment immediately. She didn't press me during class, though—she knew me better than that. Instead, she kept her eyes on her notebook, only casting occasional, worried glances my way whenever my hand drifted to clutch the center of my chest.

It wasn't until the noon bell rang, signaling lunch break, that she finally confronted me.

We grabbed our trays and navigated the noisy cafeteria, settling down at our usual weathered wooden table in the corner. As soon as I set my tray down without taking a single bite, Lesley leaned over, resting her chin on her hands, her eyes searching for mine.

“Alright, out with it,” Lesley said softly. “What’s going on with you today? You’ve been a thousand miles away since eight in the morning.”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice light as I forced a weak smile. “I’m fine, Les. Just... didn't sleep well last night, that's all. A bit of a headache.”

Lesley let out a bitter, disbelieving laugh and shook her head. “Come on, Harley. You can’t lie to me. I’ve known you practically all my life. You look like you’ve been through a war, and those dark circles under your eyes aren't from a simple headache.”

That was all it took. The brittle wall I had built around myself all morning shattered. My chest heaved, a harsh sob tore from my throat, and the tears I had been desperately fighting back spilled over, hot and uncontrollable, down my cheeks.

“Woah, Ley, hey...” Lesley’s eyes widened, and she immediately reached across the table, grabbing both of my shaking hands. “Hey, talk to me. What happened?”

“My parents... they’re in trouble, Les,” I choked out, wiping at my cheeks with the back of my trembling hand. “A massive debt. My father took out a loan four years ago to pay for my heart transplant, and now... now the lender is calling it in. If we can’t pay, he’s taking me instead. I’m the collateral. I have to marry him.”

Lesley stared at me, her mouth slightly open, the color draining rapidly from her face. “Marry him? Ley, what kind of loan shark demands a person as payment? Which mafia family are we talking about?”

“Don Carlos,” I whispered, the name tasting like ash on my tongue.

Lesley froze. The small warmth in her hands went completely ice-cold. A look of sheer, unadulterated terror overtook her features, her pupils dilating as she gripped my hands tighter.

“Don Carlos? As in the Don Carlos?” Lesley breathed, her voice dropping into a frantic, horrified hush. “He’s one of the most feared men in the entire Russian syndicate! You’ve got to be kidding me right now, Ley!”

Before I could answer, a shadow fell across our table.

“Well, well, look who it is,” a sugary, malicious voice sneered above us.

It was Naomi, flanked by two of her fellow varsity cheerleaders, holding their salads with smirks pasted across their faces.

“Isn't this the charity case table?” Naomi sneered, tossing her styled hair over her shoulder. “Honestly, it’s embarrassing that the administration lets total riffraff sit in the main cafeteria with students who actually belong here. Some of us pay full tuition, you know. You two are ruining the vibe.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, taking a deep breath. I was far too exhausted, far too broken from real-world horrors to care about high school-level drama. I grabbed my tray, ready to stand up and walk away like I always did. “Let’s just move, Les. It’s fine.”

“No,” Lesley snapped, her head snapping up. She slapped her hand down on my arm, pinning me to the bench, before turning her glare onto Naomi. “It’s not fine.”

Naomi raised a manicured eyebrow, clearly startled by the sudden pushback. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Lesley said, her voice ringing with a sharp, dangerous clarity that drew quiet gasps from nearby tables. “Get your plastic face and your overpriced salad out of our space before I give you a reason to complain to the dean. We’re sitting here, and we’re not moving an inch. Go find somewhere else to spread your toxic trash.”

Naomi’s jaw dropped in shock. She opened her mouth to spit out an insult, but seeing the furious, unwavering look in Lesley’s eyes and noticing a few students pulling out their phones, she flushed bright red.

“You’re pathetic,” Naomi hissed, turning sharply in her designer heels. “Let’s go, girls.”

As the three of them scurried off toward the far side of the room, I blinked at my best friend in disbelief. A tiny, faint breath of a laugh escaped my lips. “Where did that come from? You’ve got to learn to stand up for yourself more often, Les. That was incredible.”

“I’m tired of letting people step on us,” Lesley muttered, though her cheeks were flushed with nervous adrenaline. She shook it off quickly, her expression instantly darkening back into grim seriousness as she turned her focus back to me. “Harley, forget about them. Back to this nightmare: how long do your parents have to pay this monster back?”

I swallowed down the heavy lump in my throat, staring down at my untouched food. “Two weeks.”

Lesley gasped, her breath catching loudly in her chest. “Two weeks?! Ley... your twenty-first birthday is in two weeks!”

The words hit me like an electric shock. The contract’s terrifying clause echoed in my head: prior to the twenty-first birthday of Harley Anderson...

Before I could answer, a sudden wave of hushed whispers rippled through the cafeteria. The heavy double doors of the lunchroom swung open, pulling everyone's attention instantly away from their tables.

Nolan and Jayson walked in.

They carried themselves with an effortless, casual arrogance that naturally commanded the room. Nolan came first tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, messy hair and a sharp jawline that looked sculpted from marble. Beside him was Jayson, sporting a lazy, charming smirk, his striking blue eyes scanning the room like he owned every inch of it. They were undeniably handsome, possessing the kind of wealthy, magnetic perfection that made people sit up straighter whenever they entered a room.

The entire cafeteria seemed to hold its breath as the two popular guys strolled past the rows of tables. But as I watched them, my heart didn't flutter. I didn't care about them, but I can't say the same for Lesley.

The rest of the day blurred by faster than I expected, one class bleeding into the next until the final bell rang and I found myself almost grateful for my shift at the coffee shop. Work had always been my escape, the one place where my hands stayed busy enough that my mind couldn't wander too far. Today, I needed that more than ever.

I clocked in a few minutes early, tying my apron on as I walked through the back door, but I hadn't even made it to the counter before my boss stopped me.

"Harley, there's a package here for you."

I froze mid-step. "A package? For me?"

She nodded, already reaching under the counter, and something about the way she wouldn't quite meet my eyes made my stomach twist. Nobody sent packages to my job. Nobody even knew where I worked outside of my parents and Lesley.

"Someone dropped it off about an hour ago," she said, sliding a small black box across the counter toward me. "Didn't leave a name."

My hands were shaking again as I picked it up, the weight of it settling wrong in my palms.

Taped to the top was a single-folded note, my name written across it in sharp, deliberate handwriting I didn't recognize.

I peeled it open with trembling fingers.

Countdown till you are completely mine.