Chapter Two

Chapter Two— Pleasantries II

The blindfold itched, the cuffs around her wrists tight as they pressed against her skin.

Elena say stiffly between two men in the back of the black SUV.

Rain pattered against the windows. The engine hummed steadily beneath them as the car sliced through the night. She didn’t know how long they’d been driving. Thirty minutes? An hour?

The silence was broken only by the occasional cough, the shuffling of someone adjusting in their seat, or the soft clicking of a gun being checked.

She leaned toward the left, hoping the blindfold might slip just enough to let her get a glimpse of the road. Nothing. Just shadows behind her eyes.

“I still don’t like this one,” the man on her right muttered. “She’s got too much mouth. That’s gonna be a problem.”

“I don’t like being kidnapped,” Elena shot back, voice low but steady. “Yet here we are.”

A heavy hand smacked against her knee. Not hard, just enough to remind her she wasn’t in control.

“Shut up,” the man said.

Elena clenched her jaw. Her palms were sweaty. Her heart hadn’t stopped racing since the moment they pulled her out of her house. Being blindfolded was only making it worse.

Her father’s face kept replaying in her head—that broken look in his eyes when he said he was sorry. All those years working two jobs, counting every cent, skipping meals to feed him—and all this time, he’d been hiding a thirty-thousand-dollar debt from her.

She didn’t know which betrayal hurt more: his silence or the deal he made behind her back.

The car turned sharply. Gravel crunched beneath the tires. The rain had lightened, but the air still smelled like rain.

Finally, the vehicle stopped.

“Elena,” the man in the suit said from the passenger seat. “We’re here. No screaming, no running, no stupid moves. If you behave, you’ll be treated well. Do you understand?”

“I understand that I’m being trafficked,” she replied dryly.

The man sighed. “She’s definitely going to be a problem. Romano was right. You do have a mouth on you.”

Someone yanked open the door and pulled her out. Wet grass soaked her shoes instantly. The blindfold was ripped off.

She blinked into the low, golden lights of a grand estate—a mansion with Roman columns, ivy-covered walls, and windows that flickered like candlelight. It looked like something out of a movie.

But this wasn’t fiction. And she wasn’t a guest.

They guided her up stone steps and through heavy double doors into a long hallway with dark wood floors and oil paintings on the walls. The house was quiet—a bit eerie.

Finally, they brought her to a room that looked like a study. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A fireplace. And in front of it, seated behind a desk, was him.

Matteo Romano.

She'd only heard about him twice, seen him on magazines but being in front of him felt different.

He was young, no more than thirty. Clad in a well tailored navy-blue suit, his salt and pepper hair slicked back with the utmost precision. Unlike the rest of the men in the room, he looked like a businessman— not a gangster.

His eyes meanwhile, held a different story. Cold, fixed and pointed— taking notes of everything. The kind of man she never believed could hold a smile.

“Elena,” he said smoothly. “Welcome.”

She stared at him. “This is kidnapping.”

He smiled. “This is just business—debt collection.”

“That’s why you rather kidnap someone? You’re disgusting.”

Matteo stood and came around the desk, hands in his pockets. “You walked into the SUV by yourself, yes?” Silence fell between them. “I understand this must be confusing. And upsetting. I don’t expect you to like me. But I do expect you to listen.”

“I’m not staying.”

“You are,” he said simply. “Your father signed a contract. A very specific one. In exchange for thirty thousand dollars, he offered his daughter’s service should he fail to pay. It’s all there, in ink. Legal enough to hold in certain circles.”

Elena’s lip trembled. “What kind of service?”

Matteo tilted his head. “Nothing of whatever you might be thinking about. You’re not here to warm anyone’s bed— especially not mine. You’re here to follow instructions, run errands, sit quietly, observe, do as you're today. You’ll be part of something... significant.”

“What if I say no?”

Matteo gestured to the gun on the desk beside him. “Then your father dies… you too. Quickly and quietly. No one's going to come looking for either of you.”

“You’re a monster.”

“I'm a businessman, Elena, and you know what makes me different from the rest? I make decisions no one else would. I make bad debts go away. You’re not the first person caught in a storm they didn’t create. But you can survive it—if you cooperate.”

Elena looked away, swallowing the knot in her throat.

He stepped closer, his voice low.

“This arrangement lasts until your father’s debt is paid. One way or another. I assume you wouldn't want to see your father unalived, yes?” He paused. “Then listen to me. Keep your mouth shut. Do as you’re told and most importantly, don’t do anything stupid.”

He stepped back.

“You’ll sleep here for tonight. You’ll meet the others tomorrow.”

Elena turned toward the guards. “And if I try to leave?”

“You won’t get far, I promise you.” Matteo said calmly. “And if you do, someone you love will pay the price before you get to him. It might be your little boyfriend Elijah Stewart or your precious father. Your pick.”

Elena's blood boiled. She was confused, pressed against the wall—unsure of what to do next.

For a moment they held eye contact, Elena never breaking hers. Matteo stared back. She had sharp brown eyes, simple but gorgeous under the room lighting. Her lips plump and soft.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he said, his tone calm. “Remember, be smart.”

When he'd eventually left, the rest of them too, Elena crouched to the ground in tears. Her lips quivered, her cheeks wet with tears— yet not a single sob left her lips.

She'd find a way to get out of here, one way or another. Hopefully, Matteo wouldn't get to her father before she did.