SARAH

“You’re insane! You have no idea what you’re talking about!” I screamed, my voice barely audible over the throbbing music in the lounge. The air felt heavy with smoke and sweat, and my heart pounded in my chest.

Marco’s smug expression didn’t waver. “You’ll see, Sarah. You’ll come around.”

I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him for another second. I spun around and pushed through the crowd. As I reached the door, Marcel stepped in front of me, concern written all over his face. “Hey, you alright?”

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak without breaking down. “I need to go,” I muttered, trying to sidestep him.

“Sarah, what happened?” Marcel persisted, his brow furrowed.

“I just… I need to leave,” I repeated, brushing past him. My steps quickened as I made my way through the club, the pulsating music and flashing lights becoming too much to bear. I felt like I was suffocating.

I grabbed my phone and sent a quick text to Nicole: “Had to leave. Don’t worry about me. Will explain later.” My hands were trembling so much that I had to type slowly to avoid mistakes.

Men catcalled and shouted vulgar things at me as I pushed through the crowd. “Hey gorgeous, where you going?” “Come back, sweetheart!” I ignored them all, my only focus was on getting out of this nightmare.

Finally, I burst through the club’s front door and gasped for the fresh night air. I kept walking, nearly running, until I reached home. The familiar sight of our little house brought a brief sense of relief. I knocked, and a moment later, Dad opened the door.

“How was the party?” he began, but stopped short when he saw my face. “Sarah, what happened?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, a fresh wave of tears spilled over, and I leaned into my father’s embrace, the events of the night finally catching up to me.

“It’s the same men from the bakery,” I blurted out, my voice shaky. “They threatened us, said they’d kill us.”

Dad’s face paled, but he tried to keep his voice calm. “Sarah, come inside. Let’s talk about this.”

We moved to the living room, and I sat on the couch, trying to steady my breathing. Dad sat beside me, his hand on my shoulder. “Tell me everything.”

“They said you owe them money. A lot of money. They want me in exchange for writing off the debt. I have three days to decide,” I said, my voice trembling with fear and anger.

He looked shocked. "Calm down, Sarah. It's probably nothing—"

"No, Dad, it’s not nothing!" I interrupted, my voice rising. "He said you took a loan from his family and haven't been able to pay it back. He wants to claim me in exchange for writing off the debt, Dad! We have three days to decide, or it might get bloody."

Dad’s eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, he was speechless. Then, taking a deep breath, he held my hands and looked into my eyes. “Sarah, I need to tell you the truth,” he began, his voice heavy with emotion. “It’s about your mom, about when she was in the hospital.”

I leaned in, desperate for answers. “What happened?”

His gaze shifted as if he were reliving the past. “Your mother, Sarah,” he said softly. “She was everything to me. When she fell ill, we were drowning in medical bills. The hospital demanded payment upfront for the life-saving operation she needed. I begged, pleaded, but they turned a deaf ear.”

His voice cracked. “I had no choice. Desperation drove me to the De Luca family—their name whispered like a curse in our neighbourhood. They offered a way out, a loan. $25000. It seemed like salvation at the time.”

“But salvation came at a cost,” he continued. “Your mother lay on that sterile hospital bed, her life hanging by a thread. I signed the papers and sealed our fate. The De Lucas are ruthless, their eyes clear of mercy. They didn’t care about love or desperation. Only repayment.”

He paused, wiping away a tear. “I paid for the operation, Sarah. But it was too late. She slipped away, leaving me with guilt and a debt that clung to my soul. The De Lucas never forget. They’ve come for their pound of flesh—the only currency they value.”

I stared at him, the weight of generations pressing down. “And now they want me,” I whispered. “Three days to decide.”

Dad’s grip tightened. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I never wanted this burden for you.” Tears welled in his eyes. “I had no choice, Sarah. I had to try.”

Tears filled my eyes as I processed his words. The De Luca family. The loan. The threat. It all made a twisted kind of sense now. We were entangled in a web of old debts and dangerous promises, and I was about to be the price.

I squeezed his hands, trying to process everything. “We need to run, Dad. We can’t stay here.”

“It’s no use, Sarah. They’ll find us wherever we go. But maybe I can gather some money,” he suggested, though his voice lacked conviction.

“We can’t raise that amount in three days. We have to leave,” I insisted. “I can’t let them take me.”

Dad finally nodded, defeated. “Alright, I’ll contact some old friends. Maybe they can help us.”

The next day was a blur of frantic activity. Dad had managed to get in touch with a childhood friend in Miami who agreed to take us in. As we packed, Dad hugged me tightly. “We’ll be alright, Sarah. I promise.”

“I know, Dad. We just have to get through this,” I said, my voice steady despite the fear gnawing at my insides.

"I'll be back soon, Sarah," Dad said, his voice tense with worry. "I need to go to the bank to close some accounts and gather whatever cash I can."

I nodded, trying to hide my own anxiety. "Okay, Dad. Just be careful out there."

As soon as he left, I threw myself into finishing the packing. Each item I placed into the suitcase felt like another step closer to safety.

"I can't let them win," I muttered to myself, stuffing clothes into the bag with more force than necessary. "We can't stay here. We have to leave, I can't succumb to that man, no matter what."

With my heart pounding in my chest, I decided to run to the nearby grocery store for a few necessities. As I walked back, the weight of our situation pressed down on me over and over making each step feel heavier than the last.

When I reached home, my heart sank as I saw our front door ajar, the handle broken. Fear clutched at my chest as I walked in cautiously, calling out, “Dad?”

The place was a mess, completely scattered. My breath caught in my throat, and panic surged through me. I ran back out to the street, my mind racing. What if they’d already taken him?

A dark car sped up and screeched to a halt in front of me. The back window rolled down, and a cold voice commanded, “Get in.”

I stepped back, shaking my head. “No.”

“If you don’t get in, you’ll never see your father again,” the voice threatened.

Terror gripped me. Dad. They had him. Without another thought, I got into the car, the door slamming shut behind me.

The interior of the car was dimly lit, and I could barely make out the faces of the men sitting in the front. The car started moving immediately. I tried to steady my breathing, but my heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest.

“Where’s my father?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Don’t worry about him,” the man in the front passenger seat said without turning around. “You’ll see him soon enough.”

SARAH

I was blindfolded, my hands bound in front of me as the car bumped along a rough road. My heart raced, the sound of the tyres on gravel filling my ears. Where were they taking me? My mind swirled with fear. I tried to calm myself, but the darkness only made my thoughts more terrifying.

Had they found out about our plan to run away? My mind raced with fear and regret. What if something had happened to my father? My heart ached at the thought of him, alone and worried. I strained to hear the men’s conversation, hoping to catch a clue about my fate or my father’s safety.

“You think the boss will go easy on her?” one of the men asked, his voice rough and casual like he was discussing the weather.

“Hell no,” another replied with a chuckle. “You saw how pissed he was. She’s lucky if she gets out of this without a few broken bones.”

My stomach churned at their words. My father’s face flashed in my mind, his kind eyes filled with worry and fear. Had they already gotten to him? Was he hurt, or worse?

“She’s got guts, though,” the first man said, a note of admiration in his voice. “Most people would’ve been crying by now.”

“Yeah, well, guts don’t mean shit to the boss. He wants his possession, and he wants to send a message. No one crosses him without paying the price.”

I shivered at the coldness in their voices and the casual way they spoke about violence and pain. The darkness of the blindfold seemed to close in on me, suffocating my hope. I had to stay strong, had to believe that there was a way out of this.

“You hear what happened to that last guy who crossed him?” the first man continued. “He ended up in a ditch, missing a few fingers. They never did find his body.”

A third man, silent until now, spoke up. His voice was quieter, more serious. “We shouldn’t be talking about this. Orders are orders, and we do what we’re told.

The car finally came to a halt, and before I could gather my thoughts, I was yanked out. My feet stumbled on the rough ground, and I heard a harsh voice warn me, “Don’t scream or try anything funny, or you’ll regret it.”

Still blindfolded, I was dragged forward, each step heavy with dread. The air grew colder as we entered what felt like a shed. The blindfold and the ropes on my wrists were yanked off, and I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the dim light.

I took in the scenery for a brief moment—an old, eerie shed with tools and rusted equipment scattered around. My eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on a sight that made my blood run cold. My father was tied to a chair, his face battered and bruised. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, and one eye was swollen shut.

“Papa!” I screamed, rushing towards him. I fell to my knees beside him, tears streaming down my face. “Papa, oh my God, what did they do to you?”

His good eye opened, filled with pain. “Sarah… you shouldn’t be here,” he croaked, his voice weak and raspy.

I turned to one of the goons, my rage boiling over. “You’re all heartless! How could you do this to him?”

They all just started laughing, a cruel and mocking sound that echoed in the shed. One of them stepped forward. “Heartless? Sweetheart, this is just business. Your old man owes our boss a lot of money, and this is how debts are settled on this end.”

I clenched my fists, shaking with fury and helplessness. “You don’t have to hurt him. Have you all no shame?!, just let him go!”

The man grinned, showing yellowed teeth. “Anything, huh? We’ll see about that. But for now, you both stay put. The boss will be here soon, and he’ll decide what to do with you.”

Another goon sneered. “Yeah, don’t get any ideas, girl. We're in control here.”

I turned back to my father, gently touching his battered face. “Dad, I’m so sorry. I’ll find a way to get us out of this, I promise.”

He shook his head slightly, tears mixing with the blood on his face. “It’s not your fault, Sarah. I never should have borrowed that money.”

The door creaked open, and the goons straightened up, their expressions turning serious. “The boss is here,” one of them muttered.

I held my breath, dreading what was to come. The door opened wider, and he walked in, his presence commanding and cold. His eyes swept over the scene, landing on my father and then on me. His expression was unreadable, but the danger in his eyes was clear.

His men immediately went quiet, and the tension in the room got thick. The only sounds were my sobs and my father’s pained grunts.

Marco stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Well, well,” Marco said, his voice smooth and dangerous. “Looks like we have a little family reunion here. How touching.”

“My name is Marco De Luca, my dear Sarah,” he said, his voice smooth but menacing. “I never really had the chance to introduce myself properly.”

I glared at him through my tears. “Why are you doing this? He doesn’t deserve this!”

Marco sighed, almost as if he was tired. “Let me tell you a story, Sarah. It’s about the importance of a man keeping his word.”

He paced slowly, his eyes shifting between me and my father. “There was once a man who made a promise to his family, to protect and provide for them. But times were hard, and he found himself in need. So he made a deal with a powerful man, taking money with the promise to repay it. But he failed to keep his word.”

Marco paused, looking at my father. “Do you know what happens when a man breaks his word? His family suffers. The powerful man doesn’t care about the reasons or the excuses. He only cares about the broken promise. And he will do whatever it takes to ensure that such disrespect is met with consequences.”

His eyes darkened, the room seeming to grow colder. “Your father made a promise, Sarah. He took money from me, promising to repay it. And he failed. Then he tries to run from me? he must face the repercussions.”

My father groaned, his head hanging low. “I’m sorry, Sarah…”

Marco’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “This is what happens when a man doesn’t keep his word. People get hurt. Lives are ruined.”

Marco took off his coat, hanging it meticulously on the back of a chair I hadn’t noticed was there. He then turned to me, his eyes cold and calculating. “Sit,” he commanded, pointing to the chair opposite him.

I hesitated but then slowly walked over and sat down, my eyes never leaving his. “You’re heartless,” I spat. “You’ll never get away with this.”

He cut me off with a firm, loud voice that echoed in the small shed. “The only reason your father is still breathing, Sarah, is because of you.” His words hung in the air, heavy with menace. “I don’t tolerate failures. Men like your father, deserve punishment. He’s only alive today because, for some reason, I find you… intriguing.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. How could he be so cruel and yet so calm? As he spoke, my mind raced.

Marco continued, his eyes never leaving mine. “You should thank your lucky stars, Sarah. Without you, your father would be dead.”

I glanced at my dad, slumped on the floor, beaten and broken. My heart ached for him. What had he gotten us into?

Marco got up from his seat and walked over to me, his presence dominating the room. He stopped right in front of me, towering over me. “But I don’t just want you as a possession anymore, Sarah.” His voice was softer now, almost a whisper. “We’re going to get married, and I’m sure you won’t object, will you?”

“And let me remind you, Sarah,” he said, his tone dripping with menace. “You have no choice but to accept my terms. You tried to run away with your father and look where that got you. The more you resist me, the more your father suffers. Do you understand?”

I gasped, the shock of his words hitting me like a punch to the gut. “Married? You must be out of your mind.”

He smiled, a cold, evil smile. “With that, I’ll write off your father’s debts. Consider it a generous offer.”

My mind reeled. Married to Marco De Luca? I swallowed hard, my heart sinking. I knew he was right. Every act of defiance only brought more pain to my father. My own stubbornness had led us here.

Marco leaned in closer, his hand gripping my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You’ll be a good girl and get excited for our wedding, won’t you?”

I looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but darkness, he was enjoying this. My heart pounded in my chest, fear mixing with a sense of inevitability. I thought of my father, of all the pain he had endured. I couldn’t let him suffer any more because of me.

Taking a deep breath, I nodded slowly. “Yes, I’ll do as you say.”

Marco’s grip tightened for a moment, then he released me, stepping back. “Good. You’ve made the right choice. Your father’s debts will be erased, and you will become my wife.”

I felt a lump in my throat, the reality of my situation sinking in. My life was no longer my own. I belonged to Marco now. But if it meant saving my father, I would endure it. I had to.

I won’t let him break me.