Made For The Mafia

Chapter One — Pleasantries

The rain hadn’t started yet, but the skies outside were a patchwork of storm clouds and silver veins of lightning. The bar smelled of bleach, sweat, and spilled beer. Elena Brusso wiped the counter slowly, methodically. Her legs ached, her back screamed, and her eyes kept drifting to the ticking clock above the door.

She had to leave—on foot again, since her car had been sold to pay rent.

The parking lot outside was nearly empty, bathed in the flickering orange glow of dying streetlamps. Except for one familiar truck—parked far off, idling quietly. She smiled despite the fatigue.

Elijah. Always waiting. Always watching out for her.

Elena tugged her sweater tighter and jogged over, shoes splashing against shallow puddles.

“I actually thought you’d left,” she said, slipping into the passenger seat.

“And leave a pretty lady like you to walk home?” Elijah grinned, mocking offense. “Never.”

His warmth made her chest ease a little. Elijah had been more like a brother than anyone else in her life, and tonight, his presence felt like salvation.

“Bar was brutal,” she muttered.

“That old creep Jeff still sniffing around?”

Elena snorted. “Please. If it wears a skirt, he flirts with it.”

They shared a quiet laugh, the truck rumbling beneath them as Elijah turned onto the road. The ride was calm, comforting. They didn’t need to fill the silence—Elijah understood her exhaustion.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up in front of the sad little bungalow she called home.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, same time,” he said before she could thank him.

“Thanks, Eli,” she said anyway, stepping out and watching his truck fade into the shadows.

The wind howled as she turned toward the house. Her smile faltered. Something felt...off.

The front door was slightly ajar.

Frowning, Elena reached into her purse for her keys, then paused. Her instincts prickled. She pushed the door open with a cautious hand.

“Dad?” she called.

Silence. The living room was dark. But light poured from the kitchen, casting long shadows down the hallway.

She stepped inside, heart pounding. She spotted the old wooden bat propped against the wall and grabbed it.

“Dad?”

She crept forward and froze when she saw him—her father—sitting at the kitchen table, pale and hunched. Three men flanked him. Strangers.

“Dad, are you okay?”

Her father looked at her, eyes hollow. “Elena...”

“What’s going on?” she demanded, voice sharp. “Who the hell are they?”

One of the men, the youngest-looking, leaned back with a smirk. “Talks too much, this one.”

“Sweetheart, just...sit down,” her father said quietly. “They’re not going to hurt us.”

Elena didn’t believe that for a second. But her knuckles ached from how hard she gripped the bat, and her instincts told her to play it carefully. She lowered herself into a chair—never letting go of the weapon.

“You’re Elena Brusso, correct?” The man in the suit asked, voice calm, clinical. He wore glasses, a gray tie, and the kind of smile that meant bad news.

“Who’s asking?”

“I’m here on behalf of Matteo Romano.” He removed his glasses and cleaned them slowly. “I’m afraid your father owes Mr. Romano a rather large sum.”

Elena blinked. “What?”

Her father said nothing. Didn’t even look at her.

“He took a loan. Thirty thousand dollars. A generous loan, considering the circumstances,” the suited man continued. “Unfortunately, he missed his payments. And in lieu of jail time or other… unpleasant consequences, we agreed on a substitute arrangement.”

“What arrangement?” Elena’s voice was ice.

“You.”

The room spun quickly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered. “He never said anything—he never told me.”

“No,” the man said, folding his hands. “I imagine he wouldn’t. A father doesn’t usually confess he’s sold his daughter’s freedom to criminals.”

Her father finally looked up—tears in his eyes. “Elena, I didn’t know what else to do.”

Anger blazed hot in her eyes. “What'd you mean you didn't know what else to do? What happened to never taking a loan from anyone?”

Her father sat silent, his eyes lowered in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“Day and night, I work my butt off trying to keep us afloat and here you are taking a loan you don't need.”

She stood abruptly, the chair scraping across the floor. “As for your little ninja friends, I'm not going with them. Absolutely not.”

“Careful,” the youngest man warned.

“I don’t care who you are,” Elena snapped. “I’m not part of your deal. I’ll call the cops—”

A metallic clink silenced the room.

The man in the suit had placed a black pistol on the table, angled toward her.

Elena’s breath caught. She'd never seen a gun before— at least not in real life and not pointed at her.

Her father flinched. “Elena… sit. Please.”

She did, slowly. Rage and fear hammered in her chest.

“I can work,” she said desperately. “I’ll pay off the debt, every dollar. Just give me time.”

The man arched a brow. “Do you really think bartending will pay off thirty grand anytime this century?”

“I’ll find a second job. A third. I’ll—”

“Stop.” He tapped the gun once, lightly. “We’re not here to negotiate. It's already a sealed deal. You had months. Your father made his choice. Now it’s your turn.”

Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. “You’re all monsters!”

“No, Elena. Monsters would’ve just taken him. Or you. We’re being merciful, even giving you both the chance to talk.”

At the door, the third man stood up. A silent signal.

“I’m not going,” Elena said again, but her voice lacked the steel it had before.

The man in the suit sighed, pushed back from the table, and rose to his feet, holding a gun aimed at her father's head. “If you won’t come willingly...”

“Elena,” her father begged, grabbing her hand. “Please. If you don’t go, they’ll kill us both.”

The room swirled. She couldn’t breathe.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

She didn’t remember standing. Didn’t remember when the bat dropped from her hands. Only the cold wind that whipped through the door as the men led her out—one on either side, the third behind.

Elijah’s truck was long gone. The street empty. She wished she'd never gotten out of his car.

And just like that, Elena Brusso disappeared into the night, the uncertainty of what lay ahead, unsettling.