04.

༒ℑ𝔪𝔯𝔞𝔫༒

By the time I got to the hotel, the reality of what I was about to do had already settled in, and not in a good way. It sat heavy in my chest, like something I couldn’t shake no matter how many times I told myself this was necessary. I stood outside for a second longer than I should have, staring at the entrance, trying to convince myself to just walk in like it was normal, like I did this all the time.

It wasn’t enough to clear my debts.

That was the part that kept repeating in my head. The money he offered, it was a lot, more than I had ever had at once, but it still wasn’t enough to wipe everything clean. It was just a start. Just something to hold them off, maybe.

Unlike my boss.

The thought alone made me cringe, my face tightening as his expression flashed in my head, the way he looked at me, the way he spoke like I didn’t have a choice. My stomach turned slightly, and I shook my head, pushing it away.

No.

I wasn’t going back to that.

I straightened up and walked inside.

The hotel was exactly what I expected from Italy’s upper north side and still somehow worse. Everything was polished, expensive, quiet in a way that made you feel out of place the moment you stepped in. People like me didn’t belong here, and it showed. I could feel it in the way the staff glanced at me, quick and subtle, like they were trying not to stare but couldn’t help it.

I ignored it and headed straight for the elevator, pressing the button and waiting as my reflection stared back at me from the mirrored walls. I looked the same, nothing had changed.

Except everything had.

The doors opened, and I stepped in, pressing the number of the floor he sent me. The elevator started moving, smooth and quiet, and the higher it went, the tighter my chest felt. I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying to ground myself, trying not to think too much about what was waiting for me at the top.

My phone rang.

The sound cut through the silence, sharp enough to make me flinch. I pulled it out, already knowing who it would be.

Pierre.

I hesitated for a second before answering. “Hello?”

“Imran, where are you?” His voice came through immediately, rushed and worried. “Are you okay?”

I frowned slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You’re not fine,” he said quickly. “Your boss just called the police. He said you stole from him and assaulted him when he caught you. He’s saying you ran off.”

I froze.

“What?”

“I’m serious,” Pierre continued. “They might be looking for you already.”

A curse slipped out before I could stop it, my grip tightening on the phone. “That bastard.”

“I knew something was off,” Pierre said. “What happened?”

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair as I leaned back slightly against the elevator wall. “He tried to make a deal with me.”

“What kind of deal?”

“You can guess.”

There was a pause, then his voice dropped. “He didn’t.”

“He did.”

“And?”

“I said no.”

Another pause, heavier this time. “And then?”

“He got handsy. I didn’t like it. So I punched him and left.”

“Shit,” Pierre muttered under his breath. “Okay… okay. Where are you right now?”

I hesitated.

I could lie.

I should lie.

But what was the point? He already knew everything else. He knew about the debt, about the site. There wasn’t much left to hide.

“I’m at a hotel,” I said finally.

“Doing what?”

I let out a small, humorless breath. “What do you think?”

Silence.

“Imran…” His voice softened slightly. “Are you sure about this?”

No.

But I didn’t say that.

“I need the money,” I replied instead.

He exhaled slowly, like he wanted to argue but didn’t have anything left to say. “Just… be careful, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“And text me when you’re done.”

“I will.”

There was a short pause before he ended the call, and I lowered my phone slowly, staring at the screen for a second before locking it.

Great.

So now I had debt collectors and possibly the police on my back.

Things just kept getting better.

The elevator slowed before stopping, the doors sliding open with a quiet sound that felt too calm for everything going on in my head. I stepped out, my eyes immediately landing on the door in front of me.

Penthouse.

Of course.

I walked up to it, pulling up the message with the code. My fingers felt slightly stiff as I typed it in, and for a second, I just stood there when the lock clicked open.

This was it.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. I paused in my track as I took in the surrounding, holy mother This place is… fucking insane.

That was the only word I could think of. Everything about it screamed money, the space, the furniture, the view through the large windows, the way everything looked like it belonged in a magazine. It didn’t feel real, not to someone like me.

For a second, I just stood there, taking it all in then something else settled in.

Envy.

What did someone have to do to live like this?

To have this kind of life where money wasn’t something you worried about, where problems like mine didn’t even exist?

I swallowed and looked away, shaking the thought off before it could settle deeper.

This wasn’t my world.

I was just passing through it for the night.

I closed the door behind me and moved further inside, trying not to look too out of place even though no one was there to see me. The silence felt strange, too quiet compared to the noise I had just left behind.

I needed to get ready.

That was the whole point of being here.

I found the bathroom easily, and stepping inside felt like stepping into another level entirely. Even that was bigger than my entire apartment.

I let out a small breath before turning on the shower, the sound of the water filling the space. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at nothing, trying to gather myself.

‘You chose this.’

I stripped slowly, stepping under the water once it warmed up, letting it run over me as I closed my eyes. I tried to relax, tried to ignore the tension still sitting in my shoulders, the thoughts running through my head.

I had never done this before, talk more of doing it because of money.

It felt weird.

Wrong, maybe.

But I didn’t have the luxury to care about that.

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly as I leaned my head back slightly.

It’s just one night.

That’s it.

Just get through it.

I stayed there longer than I probably should have, using the time to calm down, to prepare myself mentally more than anything else. By the time I stepped out, my body felt lighter, but my chest still felt tight.

I got dressed again, simple, nothing too much, then made my way to the bedroom..It was just as impressive as the rest of the place, and that uncomfortable feeling crept back in as I stood there for a second before sitting on the edge of the bed.

Waiting.

That was the worst part. The waiting gave my mind too much time to think, to overthink, to question everything.

What if I couldn’t do it?

What if I backed out?

What if—

The sound of the door opening cut through my thoughts. I froze slightly, my body going still as I turned my head toward the entrance.I heard the footsteps first, smooth like he was gliding through.

It seems like my buyer for the night has arrived.

I stood up instinctively, my heart starting to pick up again as the figure walked into the room. For a moment, he was just a shadow, the light not fully reaching his face yet.

Then he stepped forward, and the light hit him. I stood still as his name hit my brains before the realization fully settled, my chest tightening as my mind tried to catch up.

I knew that face.

Everyone who fucked at the fucking club did.

‘Rafaele Moretti, the king of the underground.’