CHAPTER 4: Paper promises

Rosalie's POV 

I couldn’t sleep.

Even with my mother asleep in the next room and the whole apartment silent as a graveyard, my mind wouldn’t stop spinning

 I had done something I thought I would never do. I had made a deal with a man I couldn't afford to trust. A man who scared me and had humiliated me.

But I had no choice.

I stared at the phone in my hand, still remembering when I’d sent the message.

 “I’ll do it, for my mother"

That was it. Short, weak but real and honest. And now,I was his.

      I pressed my forehead to the window. The night was cold and quiet. A car passed outside, and I watched it move further away till it disappeared into the darkness. What had I done? I had sold myself to the devil.

And yet deep down, I knew I would do it again. For her, for mom.

       The next morning, I cooked oatmeal and made her tea. She looked tired, but smiled when I brought her meal.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” she whispered. Her voice was weak, her skin pale.

I helped her sit up and placed a pillow behind her back. “You always took care of me, it’s my turn now.”

She held my hand. “Rosalie, you’re such a good girl and I’m so proud of you.”

I looked down, biting my lip and feeling guilty. If only she knew.

She didn't ask how I was going to pay for her surgery, she didn’t ask how I had suddenly found the money.

Maybe she didn’t want to know. Or maybe she trusted me that much.

And that broke me even more.

We spent the morning together. She told me stories from when I was a baby, and I laughed even though I feltsad. Around the afternoon, there was a knock on the door.

I opened it and found a man in a black suit standing there. Behind him was a black car with dark windows.

“Miss Rosalie Bianco?” he asked.

I nodded.

“I’m here to take you to Moretti Enterprises"

; My hands trembled as I packed my things,just a small purse and a worn-out notebook. 

I kissed my mom’s forehead, telling her I was starting a new job. She smiled, proud of me.

“Don’t work too hard,” she said.

If only she knew where I was going.

       The drive to the city felt longer than it was,every second was filled with fear. I watched the buildings pass by.

 When we pulled up in front of Moretti Enterprises, I felt like I had stepped into another world.

The building was made of glass, shining like something out of a dream or a nightmare.

    I walked through the gllass doors, heels clicking on the marble floor. It smelled like money and expensive perfume. People in suits rushed past me, all looking important and confident. I was nothing like them, I felt so small.

“Miss Bianco?”

A woman approached me, blonde, sharp face and perfectly dressed.

“I’m Amara. Mr. Moretti’s assistant. Please, follow me.”

I followed her through a hallway that looked like something from a movie, gold lights, and art on the walls. Everything screamed money.

We stopped at a large door. Carla knocked once and then opened it.

He was there. Alessandro Moretti. Sitting behind a largedesk, wearing a black suit, looking like he owned the world.

And he did at least it felt like he did.

He looked up at me, eyes cold. “You came.”

“I said I would,” I replied, trying to sound braver than I was.

“Sit.”

I sat.

He handed me a few papers. “This is your contract. It includes your salary, your responsibilities, and the personal agreement between us. Read it.”

I tried to. My hands shookand the words blurred, but I understood. It was all there money for my mother’s treatments, a job as his secretary and the part that made my stomach hurt.

I signed it

I felt like I had just signed away my soul

“Good” he said. “You start now. Amarawill show you your office.”

“That’s all?” I asked.

He looked at me with his eyes dark and sharp. 

“You expected more? A speech? A kiss?” then he laughed, making me feel foolish.

I said nothing.

He stood up, walking over to me. His height, his build, everything about him felt overwhelming. He leaned close to my eaf, I could feel his warm breath on my neck. He smelled like coffee and expensive perfume.

“You don’t get to ask questions, Rosalie. You work for me. You belong to me and hat’s the deal.” he moved backwards and looked me in the eye 

"isn't it?"

My breath caught in my throat, I nodded slowly and moved away from him. Terrified.

He smiled slightly, but there was no kindness in it “Amara.”

Amara returned and led me to a small office next to his. The room was neat and simple a desk, a chair, a computer. But everything was too clean too quiet. Unlike the Trattoria Del Fiore.

It didn’t feel like a job,It felt like a trap.

Amara explained a few things, how to answer his calls, how to handle his calendar, who to ignore and who to impress. I tried to listen, but my mind kept wandering.

What had I done?

As the hours passed, I sat at my desk pretending to be fine. I typed,I answered phones. All while feeling the weight of his presence just in the next room. I could feel when he moved, I could hear the sound of his shoes, the deep tone of his voice whenever he attended to someone.

And every time the door opened, my heart jumped

Later that evening, he called for me.

“Come in,” he said when I knocked.

I stepped inside. He didn’t look up from his screen. 

“Sit.”

I sat.

“You’re learning fast,” he said.

“Thank you,” I replied, not sure ofwhat to say.

He looked at me then, eyes all over my face like he was trying to read my mind.

“Why did you talk back to me that night in the restaurant?” he asked suddenly.

I blinked, bit expecting such a stupid question.

“Because you were rude.”

He tilted his head curiously “Most people wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m not most people.”

A long silence.

“Interesting. That’s why I chose you, you know. Not just for your desperation. But because you pushed back, that doesn’t happen very often.”

I looked away.

“I’m curious" he whispered“What will it take to break you?”

I stood up quickly. “Is that all?”

He smirked. “For now.”

I walked out, my heart pounding.

Back at my desk, I tried to breathe but i wanted to cry. But I didn’t, i wouldn't. Not here, not yet.

I was doing this for her, for Mom.

That night, I returned home and kissed my mother’s cheek. She was sleeping again, breathing softly. I sat by her

bed for a long time, holding her hand.

“I’ll protect you. No matter what it takes.”