Blood Debt Begins
The first gunshot shattered the night.
Isabella Romano froze.
For a split second, the world seemed to hold its breath. Then another shot rang out, louder, closer, followed by the sharp crash of glass breaking somewhere inside the house.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
“Papa?” she called, stepping out of her bedroom.
Silence answered her; heavy, unnatural silence.
Then voices.
Male voices.
Low, Dangerous.
Isabella’s stomach twisted. She moved quickly down the hallway, her bare feet silent against the marble floor. The Romano villa had always felt too big, too quiet. Tonight it felt like a trap.
Another gunshot exploded downstairs.
She flinched.
“Search the house,” a man barked.
Her blood turned cold.
They weren’t robbers. Robbers didn’t move like soldiers or carry guns that sounded like thunder.
These men knew exactly what they were doing.
And they were here for someone.
Her father.
Isabella rushed to the staircase, gripping the railing as she leaned over.
The sight below made her breath catch.
The living room was chaos.
Furniture overturned. Glass shattered across the floor. The scent of gunpowder hung thick in the air.
Three armed men in black stood near the entrance.
And on the floor
Her father.
“Papa!” Isabella gasped.
She ran down the stairs before she could stop herself.
One of the men turned sharply. His gun lifted.
“Stop!”
But Isabella had already dropped beside her father.
Lorenzo Romano’s white shirt was soaked with blood.
Her hands trembled as she pressed them against his chest, trying to stop the bleeding, but there was too much. Far too much.
“Papa… stay with me,” she whispered, panic rising in her throat.
His eyes fluttered open weakly.
“Bella…” he rasped.
Tears blurred her vision. “I’m here.”
He gripped her wrist with surprising strength.
“You must run.”
Her head shook immediately. “No”
“Listen to me,” he forced out, his voice barely more than air. “They will come for you next.”
Footsteps echoed behind them.
Isabella turned slowly.
The three men were watching.
Waiting.
One of them spoke into a phone. “The old man is finished. Searching for the daughter now.”
Ice flooded her veins.
Her father’s grip tightened.
“They think I betrayed them,” he whispered.
“Who?” she asked desperately.
But Lorenzo Romano didn’t answer.
His hand went limp.
“Papa?”
Her voice broke.
“Papa!”
But his eyes were already empty.
A cold laugh sounded behind her.
“Well,” one of the men said casually, “that saves us the trouble.”
Isabella looked up slowly.
Three guns pointed directly at her.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her mind raced.
Run.
Her father’s final word echoed in her head.
Run.
She moved before they could react.
Isabella lunged toward the nearest lamp and shoved it hard. It crashed into one of the men, sending him stumbling backward.
“Hey!”
She didn’t wait.
She ran.
Her heart thundered in her ears as she sprinted toward the back door. Behind her, shouts exploded.
“Stop her!”
Gunshots followed.
Bullets slammed into the walls as she burst outside into the cold night air.
The rain hit her instantly, soaking her thin nightdress.
She ran across the garden, her feet slipping on the wet grass. Branches scratched her arms as she pushed through the trees bordering the property.
Her lungs burned.
Her father was dead.
They were trying to kill her.
And she had no idea why.
Headlights suddenly flashed in the distance.
A black car turned onto the long gravel driveway leading away from the villa.
Hope flared inside her chest.
Help.
She ran toward it, waving her arms.
“Please! Help!”
The car slowed.
Relief flooded her.
The driver’s door opened.
A man stepped out.
He was tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed entirely in black.
Rain slicked his dark hair back as he looked at her calmly, like a man observing something mildly interesting rather than a terrified woman running for her life.
Something about him made Isabella’s steps slow.
Then stop.
Because his presence felt…
Dangerous, Powerful.
The kind of power that didn’t need to shout.
Behind her, the gunmen burst out of the trees.
“There she is!”
Isabella turned back in panic.
Then the tall man spoke.
“Stand down.”
His voice was quiet.
But the effect was immediate.
The men chasing her froze.
Isabella blinked in confusion.
One of them lowered his gun nervously. “Boss… we were handling it.”
Boss?
Her stomach dropped.
Slowly, she turned back toward the stranger.
Up close, his face was even more striking. Sharp features. Cold, dark eyes. The kind of eyes that had seen too much and cared about very little.
He studied her silently.
Rain dripped down her face, mixing with tears.
“Please,” she whispered.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
Finally, he stepped closer.
The air around him felt heavy, suffocating.
“Isabella Romano,” he said.
Her breath caught.
“How do you know my name?”
A faint smile touched his lips.
But it wasn’t kind.
“My name,” he said calmly, “is Alessandro De Luca.”
The name hit her like a punch to the chest.
Even she had heard it.
The Sicilian King.
The most feared man in Sicily.
And suddenly, Isabella understood something terrible.
She hadn’t escaped her enemies.
She had run straight into the most dangerous one.
Alessandro reached out and gently lifted her chin so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.
“Your father owed my family a blood debt,” he said quietly.
Her pulse pounded.
“What does that have to do with me?”
His eyes darkened.
“Everything.”
He nodded once to his men.
Two of them immediately grabbed her arms.
Panic exploded through her.
“Let me go!”
She struggled, kicking and twisting, but they held her easily.
Alessandro watched her fight without emotion.
Then he delivered the words that shattered the last piece of her world.
“From this moment on,” he said coldly, “you belong to me.”
Isabella’s heart nearly stopped.
“What?”
His voice dropped lower.
“You will repay your father’s betrayal.”
Rain poured harder around them as his men dragged her toward the car.
“And you will do it,” Alessandro De Luca said calmly, “as my wife.”
The car door slammed shut behind her.
And as the vehicle pulled away from the burning Romano estate, Isabella realized one horrifying truth.
Her nightmare had only just begun.
