Danger

ELARA'S POV

"Your brother owes us fifty thousand dollars, Miss Santos."

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. I pressed the phone harder against my ear, certain I'd misheard.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Fifty. Thousand. Dollars." The man's voice was cold.

 "He borrowed it six months ago. The interest has been piling up ever since. He's missed three payments now. We're done being patient."

My legs felt weak. I leaned against the hospital corridor wall, my free hand gripping the edge for support.

"There must be some mistake. My brother doesn't have that kind of money. He wouldn't borrow—"

"But he did." The man cut me off smoothly. 

"Borrowed it from us. Spent it. And now he can't pay it back. Which makes it your problem."

"My problem?" Heat flushed through me, anger mixing with disbelief.

"I'm not responsible for his debts."

"You are now." There was no warmth in his voice. 

"Family is family, Miss Santos. And in our world, when one person can't pay, the debt passes to the next of kin. That's you."

"That's not legal. You can't—"

"Legal?" He laughed, a sound that made my skin crawl. 

"You think we care about legal? Your brother came to us knowing exactly what kind of people we are. He signed the agreement. Now someone has to pay. If it's not him, it's you."

My mind raced, trying to process what he was saying. Fifty thousand dollars. Matteo had borrowed fifty thousand dollars from loan sharks.

Despite everything I'd done. Despite working myself to exhaustion to keep us afloat. Despite paying for rent, food, utilities, everything, he'd gone behind my back and borrowed money from criminals.

"I don't have that kind of money," I said, my voice shaking. 

"I'm a nurse. I barely make enough to cover rent. There's no way I can pay you fifty thousand dollars."

"Then you'd better figure something out. Fast." His tone didn't change. 

"You have seventy-two hours. After that, the interest doubles. And if you still can't pay..." He paused, letting the threat hang in the air. 

"Well, let's just say your brother won't be the only one in trouble."

The line went dead.

I stood there, staring at my phone, my heart pounding so hard. Fifty thousand dollars.

It was impossible. Absolutely impossible.

Rage flooded through me, hot and overwhelming. How could he? How could Matteo do this? After everything I'd sacrificed, everything I'd given up to take care of him, he'd gone and done this.

My hands shook as I pulled up his contact and hit call.

It rang. And rang. And rang.

"Pick up," I muttered through clenched teeth. 

"Pick up, Matteo."

Voicemail.

I hung up and tried again. Same result.

"Damn it!" I wanted to throw my phone against the wall. Wanted to scream. But I was standing in a hospital corridor with patients and staff walking past, so I forced myself to take a breath.

He was probably still angry from our fight this morning. Probably ignoring my calls on purpose to punish me.

But we didn't have time for his childish games. Not anymore.

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and tried to focus on my shift. Tried to push down the panic rising in my chest.

Three hours. I just needed to get through the next three hours. Then I could hunt Matteo down and demand answers.

But focusing proved impossible. Every patient I treated, every chart I filled out, my mind was somewhere else. On Matteo. On the debt.

Fifty thousand dollars.

I didn't make that in a year. Didn't even make half that. Between rent, utilities, food, Matteo's expenses, I was lucky if I had a few hundred left at the end of each month.

Where would I even begin to find that kind of money?

My shift dragged on, each minute feeling like an hour. Finally, my relief arrived and I clocked out.

I didn't even bother changing out of my scrubs. Just grabbed my bag and headed straight for the exit, pulling out my phone as I walked.

I tried Matteo's number again. And again.

By the time I reached the bus stop, I'd called him seven times. Each time it rang through to voicemail. Each time my anger grew.

The bus ride home felt endless. I sat by the window, my phone clutched in my hand.

When I finally got back to our apartment, I half-expected to find him there. Thought maybe he'd come home after cooling off and was just being stubborn about answering my calls.

But the apartment was empty. Dark. Exactly as I'd left it that morning.

I dropped my bag on the couch and tried calling again.

This time, after the third ring, he answered.

"What?" His voice was sharp, defensive.

Relief flooded through me so fast it made me dizzy. But it was quickly replaced by fury.

"What?" I repeated, my voice rising. 

"What? Are you serious right now, Matteo? I've been calling you for hours!"

"I saw. I was busy."

"Busy?" I wanted to reach through the phone and slap him. 

"Busy doing what? Hiding from the loan sharks you borrowed fifty thousand dollars from?"

Silence on the other end. Long and damning.

"Yeah," I continued, my voice shaking with rage. 

"I got a call today. From some very unpleasant people who say you owe them money. A lot of money. Money you apparently borrowed six months ago without telling me."

"Elara, I—"

"Don't." I cut him off. 

"Don't you dare try to explain this away. Fifty thousand dollars, Matteo! What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was going to pay it back!" His voice rose defensively. 

"I had a plan. I just needed a little more time—"

"A little more time?" I laughed bitterly. "They're threatening us, Matteo! They said we have seventy-two hours to come up with the money or—" I couldn't even finish the sentence. The implications were too terrifying.

"I'm handling it."

"You're handling it?" My voice cracked. "How? How are you handling it? By ignoring their calls? By hiding? That's not handling it, that's making it worse!"

"You don't understand—"

"Then make me understand!" I was yelling now, pacing back and forth in the empty apartment. 

"Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you went behind my back, borrowed money from criminals, and now you're leaving me to deal with the consequences!"

"I didn't mean for it to get this bad." His voice was smaller now. He sounded guilty. 

"I thought I could win it back. I was so close, Elara. I just needed one more game—"

"One more game?" The words made my blood run cold. 

"This was for gambling? You borrowed fifty thousand dollars from loan sharks to gamble?"

"I was going to pay it back! I swear, I had it all figured out—"

"Nothing about this is figured out!" Tears stung my eyes but I blinked them back furiously. 

"Do you have any idea what you've done? Any idea what kind of danger you've put us in?"

"I know, okay? I know I messed up. But I'm going to fix it. I just need—"

"Need what? More time? More money? Another chance to throw our lives away?" My voice broke. 

"I've given you everything, Matteo. Everything. I work myself to death to keep us afloat and this is what you do? This is how you repay me?"

"I never asked you to do any of that!" His guilt turned defensive again. 

"I never asked you to take care of me. I never asked you to—"

"You didn't have to ask! You're my brother! What was I supposed to do? Let you end up on the streets?"

"Maybe that would've been better than this!" He shot back. 

"Better than having you hold it over my head every time I make a mistake!"

"A mistake?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. 

"This isn't a mistake, Matteo. This is a disaster. A disaster you created. And now we both have to live with the consequences."

Silence again. But this time I heard something in the background. Muffled voices. Movements.

"Matteo?" My anger shifted to worry. "Where are you?"

"I'm fine."

"That's not what I asked. Where are you?"

"Look, I have to go. We'll figure this out, okay? I promise, I'll—"

"Hey! Let me go!"

Matteo's voice suddenly changed. Became panicked. Scared.

"Matteo?" My heart jumped into my throat. "Matteo, what's happening?"

Scuffling sounds. Someone shouting.

"Matteo!" I was yelling now, gripping the phone so hard my knuckles went white. 

"Matteo, answer me!"

A crash. A grunt of pain.

Then the line went dead.

"Matteo!" I screamed at the phone. "Matteo!"

Nothing. Just the cold, empty silence of a disconnected call.

My hands shook as I immediately hit redial It rang once. Then twice then went straight to voicemail.

I tried again, and again, and again.

Each time, voicemail.

"No. No no no no." Panic clawed at my chest, making it hard to breathe. 

"Please pick up. Please."

I called ten times, still nothing.

My legs gave out and I sank onto the couch, phone still clutched in my trembling hands. Tears I'd been holding back finally spilled over, hot and unstoppable.

Something had happened. Something bad. I heard it in his voice, in the scuffle, in the sudden dead silence.

They had him.

And I had no idea where he was. No idea how to find him. No idea how to help him.

I tried calling again, my fingers shaking so badly I could barely hit the right buttons.

Straight to voicemail.

"Please," I whispered into the phone. "Please be okay. Please."

But there was no answer. 

I curled up on the couch, phone pressed against my chest, and let myself cry. 

For the fact that despite everything I'd done, despite all my sacrifices, I'd still failed to protect him.

And now I had no idea how to save him.