Quelqu’un qui t’aime comme au premier jour

I wiped my hands on my apron, my feet aching from the double shift at the small Italian restaurant where I worked. The dinner rush had been brutal, with tons of impatient customers and endless orders, and my boss, old Mr. Romano, had insisted I cover for someone who called in sick.

I didn’t mind the hassle of the restaurant. Work was my escape from my complicated home.

When I was finally done, I pulled the apron over my head, sighing in relief of a well-served day. Soon, it would be payday, and I could finally give Rosie that little notebook she’d been asking for.

Rosie, my younger sister who was just nine, loved to draw. Her sketches had a way of bringing beauty to our messy life.

I quickened my steps, eager to get home and see little Rosie and Mom. My relationship with Dad wasn’t great ever since I caught him cheating on Mom. His temper had been flaring more often lately, and I didn’t want him to lash out at me. Mom always thought I was at fault for hating my dad. She doesn't know the reason.

When I turned the corner to our street, I froze.

Dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Instead, three sleek black vehicles were parked haphazardly in front of our house. My heart sank, feeling that something wasn't right.

I quickened my pace, fear twisting in my stomach. I didn’t trust my drunkard father especially alone with my sister and mum. When I reached the porch, I heard a scream, making me halt for a second.

Rosie! I’d recognize that voice anywhere. It was the voice of Rosie, my little sister.

Without thinking, I bolted through the door, my breath catching at the sight inside. Dad stood near the dining table, his face pale and his hands trembling.

On her knees, clutching her sides, was Rosie, sobbing uncontrollably. I rushed to her, pulling her close to my chest.

“What’s wrong, Rosie?” I asked, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she pointed with a trembling finger.

I followed the direction of her finger and saw blood stains on the carpet.

What the fuck? Where the heck was the blood coming from? I asked letting my gaze trace to the source. I froze in terror.

Mom’s lifeless body lay on the floor, blood gushing from her forehead.

“Mom? Mom??” My voice broke as I yelled louder. “Mommmmmm!”

I rushed forward, dropping to my knees, shaking her lifeless body, praying for any response.

“Don’t!” Dad snapped, his voice shaking.

I whipped my head around, the fury blazes in my eyes. “What have you done?!” "you killed mum!"

Before he could answer, another sound cut through the chaos—a sob from Rosie.

I turned toward her and saw a man dressed in black standing beside her with a gun pointed at her head. His face was devoid of emotion as he firmly gripped her despite her struggles.

“Get your hands off her!” I yelled at the man, who only chuckled in response to my threat.

“You didn’t tell me you had another daughter, William,” the man said in a low menacing voice.

“Please,” Dad pleaded. “Tell Mr. Black I just need more time—”

“You’re out of time,” the man interrupted sharply. “Mr. Black demanded I bring either the money or something equivalent.”

My blood turned cold at the name Mr. Black.

Of course, I knew that name. Everyone knew that name. Damien Black, The Mafia King. Stories of his cruelty and power were whispered across the city like ghost tales.

“H-How much does he owe?” I stammered. It shouldn't be so much that I can't pay, I thought.

The man in front of me chuckled. “I see your father didn’t let you in on his debt. He owes my boss a million.”

My eyes widened in shock. A million? Even if I worked nonstop for three years, plus extra shifts, my salary wouldn’t even cover half of that.

When I didn’t respond, the man held Rosie tighter, “I’m taking her,”

“Over my dead body!” I exploded, stepping in front of her.

“Brave, aren’t you?”

“I’m not letting you take her!” I spat, fists clenched. “Not after killing Mom!”

“She got what she deserved,” he said coldly. “She was trying to play smart.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to—”

“Tracey, stop!” Dad shouted.

“Why?” I snapped, tears burning my eyes. “So you can stand there and do nothing while they destroy us? You let them kill Mom, and now you’re letting them take Rosie? What kind of father are you?”

“I’m sorry, Tracey.”

I ignored him and continued to shield Rosie. “She’s a child! You can’t take her!”

The man raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “And who’s going to stop me? You?”

My fists clenched tighter. “Why don’t you take the one who owes you instead?” I challenged, glaring at Dad.

He flinched, shame flooding his face, but he said nothing.

The man chuckled darkly. “You’ve got fire. I like that.” He stepped closer, towering over me. “Tell me, sweetheart, if I take him, who’s going to pay the debt? Huh?”

I froze at the thought. He was right. If Dad was taken away, there’d be no way to pay back a million dollars. I was just a nineteen-year-old college student with a part-time job. But I couldn’t let them take Rosie.

“I need collateral,”

“Someone to ensure your father pays his debt. Your sister will do just fine, but…” His eyes roamed over me, glinting with interest. “You seem like a better option.”

“Fine, take me instead,” I said, walking towards him. Rosie cried out, reaching for me.

I knelt in front of her, cupping her face. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” I whispered, trying to sound strong even though fear twisted in my gut. “It’s going to be okay, Rosie. I’ll be back before you know it. Just… take care of yourself and listen to Mom’s favorite song for me, alright?”

Rosie nodded weakly, still crying as I hugged her tightly.

“Enough of this,” the man barked, grabbing my arm and pulling me away. “Time to go.”

His gaze shifted back to Dad. “You’ve got five days to pay up. One million. No excuses. If you fail again, your daughter—”

“No!” Dad shouted, jumping to his feet. “You can’t do this! Please, give me more time—”

“Five days,” the man repeated coldly, cutting him off. “And trust me, Mr. William, if you fail again, you won’t like what happens next.”

My legs trembled beneath me. Five days. It wasn’t much, but it was something. At least Rosie would be safe for now.

“Let’s go,” the man said, dragging me toward the door. I glared at Dad as I was pulled away.

“This is your fault!” I screamed, my voice breaking. “You’d better fix this in five days!”

Tears filled his eyes, but he didn’t say a word as the door slammed shut behind me.

___

The ride in the black car was silent, except for the soft hum of the engine. I sat in the backseat, squished between two of Damien’s men. Neither had spoken a word since we left the house.

I couldn’t stop sniffling, as the tears I had been holding were threatening to stream down my face. The scene of what had just happened was unable to stop replaying in my head.

My mother’s lifeless body, my sister’s cries, and my father’s cowardice. The images tore at me, over and over again.

I glanced at the man in the front passenger seat—the one who had taken me. He was staring at his phone, typing something with the calm focus of someone who hadn’t just helped destroy my family. How could he look so collected? So unbothered?

My mind raced with various thoughts, each one more terrifying than the last. I wondered what was going to happen to me. If I would ever see my family again? And how in the world was my stupid father supposed to come up with a million dollars in just five days?

“You’re quiet,” the man in the passenger seat said slightly turning his head back at me.

I glared at him through the rearview mirror. “What am I supposed to say? Thank you for killing my mum and ruining my life?”

He chuckled. “You’ve got a sharp tongue. That might get you into trouble where we’re going.”

“Where are we going?” I demanded.

“To see my boss,” he replied. "Mr. Black.”

Of course. I rolled my eyes. What was I expecting, they had to take me to see Mr. Black.

My stomach twisted at the thought of his name. Damien Black. The notorious Mafia king. I had only heard rumors about how cruel the infamous man was.

I had never imagined I'd get in contact with someone like him, And now, I was headed to see him. It was enough to terrify anyone beyond wit.

“What is he going to do with me?” I asked, my voice now shaky as I began to understand the gravity of the situation.

The man didn’t answer. Instead, he exchanged a glance with the driver, and my anxiety spiked.

We arrived at our destination, and the car pulled up to an estate that looked more like a fortress.

There were high walls surrounding the huge mansion, and armed guards patrolled the grounds.

The gates opened, and I felt my nerve crack as we drove through.

The car parked, and I was dragged out and into the mansion by one of the men beside me.

Inside, the mansion was more luxurious than the outside. I was momentarily dazzled by the sight of crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors, and gold accents, forgetting my problem for a second.

But then the men stopped in front of a set of double doors, and one of the guards knocked before pushing them open.

“Sir, she’s here.”

I was shoved inside, stumbling slightly. The room was a library, the walls lined with shelves of books. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and Damien sat by the window, his wheelchair positioned so he could overlook the estate.

“Leave us,” he ordered without looking up.

The guards filed out, leaving me alone with him.

He was nothing like I had imagined. He was younger, maybe in his early thirties, with sharp features and piercing dark eyes that seemed to see right through me. He exuded power and authority, despite being confined to a wheelchair.

I couldn’t believe the most feared man in the city was seated in a wheelchair. I scoffed slightly, causing him to look up from the papers on his desk.

In an instant, his gaze locked onto mine. “You’re William’s daughter?” he asked, his voice calm but carrying an edge of danger.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Sit,” Damien said, gesturing to a chair.

I stayed standing, my arms crossed. “You don’t get to order me around.”

He turned to face me, his gray eyes narrowing. “Sit. Now!”

The command in his voice made my stomach drop. Reluctantly, I sat down, with every muscle in my body tense.