Chapter 4: Sold to the devil

Nadia’s POV

A loud, deafening crash from the lower level of the mansion snaps me awake.

I sit upright in bed, my heart instantly leaping into my throat. The morning sun is streaming through my small window, indicating it is just past 8:30 AM.

Downstairs, the sound of glass shattering, heavy boots stomping and high pitched screams of terror echoes through the floor boards.

I quickly pull on a thick, oversized hoodie to cover my thorn shirt, unlock my door and walk downstairs. As I reach the top of the grand staircase and look down into the formal living room, my breath catches in my throat.

The scene below is something out of a nightmare.

My uncle Lucas, my aunt Rosalind, my cousins, Alex and Elena are all on their knees on the polished marble floor.

Their hands are raised behind their heads, and standing directly behind each of them are men in black suits, pointing heavy, silenced handguns at the back of their heads.

Standing in the center of the room, looking completely unbothered by the violence surrounding is the silhouette of the man from the VIP lounge, the one with icy, crystalline blue eyes.

He is dressed in a dark, tailored suit that highlights his imposing frame. In his left hand, he holds a burning cigar, slowly exhaling a thick cloud of grey smoke into the tense, terrified silence of the room. A silver handgun is tucked into the leather holster at his waist.

“Mr Romano, please… I will—" my uncle tries to speak but the man behind him strikes him hard on his face.

Did he just say Mr Romano? Lorenzo Romano?

“You are finally awake,” Lorenzo says, his deep, baritone voice cutting through the room like physical blade. He doesn’t look up, but he knows exactly where I am standing.

Slowly, he turns his head, his piercing, icy blue eyes locking onto mine . He raises a single leather-gloved hand and gestures for me. “Come down here, Nadia”

My legs felt like plastic, but the sight of the guns pointed at the Bennett forces me to move. I take slow, shaky steps down the grand staircase, my hands trembling inside the pocket of my hoodie. When I reach the bottom step, I stop, keeping my distance from him.

“Wha… what do you want with us?” I stammer, my voice barely a whisper.

A cold, dark smile plays at the corner of Lorenzo’s lips. In a movement so face my eyes couldn’t track it, he covers the distance between us, grips my wrist in a grab of absolute steel.

He pulls me forward, dragging my body against his hard, solid chest.

“What do I want?” he whispers, his hot, tobacco scented breath brushing against my ear. Sending a shiver of pure terror and adrenaline down my spine. “I’ve come to collect a massive debt, piccola. And your family has decided to offer me a very creative form of payment.”

He let go of my wrist, only to grab my chin in a firm, unyielding grip, forcing me to look up into his terrifying, beautiful face.

He reaches into his coat pocket with his free hand and tosses a slip of paper onto the floor in front of my uncle.

“Consider her the absolute payment of your seven-million-dollar debt, Lucas,” Lorenzo says, his voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “And there is a check for an additional seven million. You will sign her guardianship over to me, and you will never attempt to contact her again. Do we have a deal?”

My uncle, Lucas, his face pale and sweating with fear doesn’t hesitate for a fraction of a second. He scrambles forward on his knees, his hands shaking as he snatches the paper from the floor, clutching it to his chest like a lifeline.

“Yes! Yes, Lorenzo! Take her!” Lucas cries out, his voice laced with a sickening relief. “She’s yours! We have never wanted her anyway. So please, just take her.”

“No!,” I scream, horror and betrayal exploding in my chest. I begin to thrash against Lorenzo’s grip, trying to pull my chin free. “You can’t do this! You can’t sell me like an animal! I don’t owe him anything!”

Lorenzo doesn’t flinch at my struggle. He slowly releases his grip on my chin, but before I can run, he shoves me backwards.

My flip flops slip on the polished marble, and I crash heavily to the floor, my hands scraping against the stone.

Lorenzo crouches down in front of me, blowing a thick stream of cigar smoke directly into my face. He reaches out, his leather-gloved finger gently twirling a strand of my dark hair.

“Seven days, piccola,” he whispers, his voice a low, dangerous purr that promises absolute ruin. “I’ll give you seven days to accept your new reality. You can crawl to my estate willingly, or I will take you by force. The choice is yours.”

He stands up, adjusts his jacket and turns on his heel. Without a backward glance, he walks out of the front doors, his armed men falling into steps behind him.

The moment the heavy oak doors slam shut, the tension in the room snaps. I push myself up from the floor, my eyes burning with tears of rage as I glare at my uncle, who is already admiring the check in his hands.

“How could you do this?” I choke out, my voice cracking. “I am your family! You just sold me to a monster!”

My aunt Rosalind stands up, smoothing down her designers dress. She steps toward me and without a word of warning, strikes me across the face. The force of the slap sends my head spinning , and the mentality taste of blood fills my mouth.

“Do not use that tone with us, you ungrateful little brat!” she hisses, her eyes wild with a mixture of fear and greed. “We took you in! We fed you and clothed you for five years! It is about time you pay us back for our charity. You will do exactly as Lorenzo says.”

“Don’t forget, Nadia,” my uncle adds coldly, pocketing the check. “You have seven days. Do not make him angry, or he will destroy you and what is left of this family. Make the right choice.”

I stare at them, holding my bruised, burning cheek as they walk away, leaving me alone in the silence. I am not going to crawl to Lorenzo Romano. I have seven days, and I am going to run far away from Italy as humanly possible.