Chapter 2: The ruthless ultimatum

Della’s POV

Mama nodded rapidly, pure terror clear in her eyes.

"How is he here? Our time isn't even up yet," I whispered. The sudden rush of panic completely washed the sleep from my eyes.

"El, what if… what if he’s—"

A loud bang exploded against the front door, making everyone jump. The silence that followed was deafening, a heavy, suffocating quietness that made my mind race. What am I going to do? I haven’t even raised half the money yet.

"God..." I pressed both hands to my forehead, sweeping my hair back in frustration. Why is this happening right now?

Another heavy thud rattled the walls. "I know you're in there. Open up," a cold, detached voice called out from the other side.

A chill ran down my spine, freezing me in place. But I had to steel myself, for my parents, for my siblings. I had to be strong.

As I forced my feet toward the door, I heard the hurried footsteps of Chris and Mabel. They were already awake. I looked over at them, my eyes locking onto Chris, and quickly backstepped into the room.

"Listen to me, Chris," I said urgently, grabbing him by the shoulders. "You cannot react today. I mean it." I needed my words to sink into his head. The last time Lorenzo's people came here, Dad got beaten half to death because he lost his temper. For an eighteen-year-old, Chris's temper was a ticking time bomb.

"But El, who’s at the door?" he asked, his voice groggy as he pushed his messy black hair out of his face.

"Yeah, El, who is it? It’s only 1:20 am," Mabel added, rubbing her eyes.

"It’s Lorenzo. Now, both of you listen to me carefully. No one says a single word to him. You just let him say whatever he wants."

"El—"

"Chris, please. Don’t do this right now. I am already losing my mind—"

Another violent bang cut me off like a blade, making us all flinch. I let go of Chris's shoulders and turned toward the door.

Taking a deep breath to steady my racing heart, I let my hand hover over the knob. You can do this, Della, I whispered to myself, then turned the lock.

Standing on the doorstep were Lorenzo Moretti’s men—five of them, all towering and dressed in black. Lorenzo wasn't visible at first; his men's muscle completely blocked the entrance.

The man directly in front of me smirked. "I... uh..." I stammered, but before I could finish, the men parted. Lorenzo stepped through. He walked toward me with a slow, predatory stride, a devilish smirk playing on his lips.

"Hello, my pretty flower," he greeted. The malice practically dripped from his tone. Lorenzo was a man of absolute power, wealth, and influence—and he knew it. He was easily one of the most feared men in New York.

He didn't look like a typical fifty-year-old man. He looked much younger, closer to his late thirties. Even in the dead of night, his hair was perfectly styled, and he wore a tailored black suit with a crisp black shirt. He kept a pair of dark sunglasses on, hiding his eyes.

"I thought I should come see you, my pretty flower," he added, finally sliding the glasses off. His dark, dead orbs locked onto mine as he smiled. His sheer presence stole the breath right out of my lungs.

"I... uh, sorry. Good morning," I managed to choke out. "We haven't... we haven't completed the money yet." My voice shivered despite my best efforts.

"My pretty flower," he purred, pushing past me into the house. "You shouldn't take so long to open the door.”

He spun back around and grabbed me by the wrist. He squeezed so tightly I was certain his fingerprints would leave bruises. I grunted at the pain, glancing over at my parents. Tears were welling in Mama's eyes. She couldn't even speak. And Dad? He couldn't even bring himself to look Lorenzo in the eye. Behind us, the heavy boots of his men echoed as they crowded into our small living room.

Lorenzo finally let go of my wrist and threw himself onto our couch. Sighing, he pulled out a cigar, lit it, and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

"Let's just get to business, Dante," he said, looking at my father. "I'm here for my money."

"You can't be serious," I argued, stepping forward. "You gave us a deadline, and we aren't even close to it yet!"

Lorenzo's gaze snapped to me, his voice dropping to a low, core-shaking rumble. "Because I love that fiery nature of yours doesn't mean you speak when I'm speaking, and you cut me off. Don't make me angry, pretty flower. It's my money. I decide when I want it."

"But—" Mama grabbed my hand, pleading with her eyes for me to just shut up.

"Dante, since you and your family don't have my money, I think I'll have pity on you all," Lorenzo said, leaning back. "There is a way out of this million-dollar debt you've drowned yourselves in."

I felt my mother’s posture instantly relax. "What's the way out, Sir? We'll do anything to clear the debt," Mama begged.

I turned to her, my eyes wide with horror. "Mama, anything?"

"Della, quiet!" she warned.

God, what kind of trap is he setting? This man didn't do favors. He wasn't the type to offer an easy way out. Behind every drop of his generosity lay a deadly catch.

I breathed through my frustration, waiting for the executioner's axe to fall.

"I like the way your wife thinks, Dante," Lorenzo laughed darkly. "I love how willing she is to clear the books. I figured you wouldn't be able to pay it back. Especially when the entire weight of the debt rests on your precious daughter's delicate shoulders." He pouted mockingly. "So, I came up with a solution to ease the stress for everyone. You just have to do one little thing."

He stood up, continuing to smoke, filling our home with the foul stench of his cigar. He walked up close to me, using his left hand to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear. Before I could yank away, he stepped behind me, leaning down to whisper directly into my ear.

"You just have to wed my pretty flower to me, and your debts will be cleared entirely."

Before my brain could even process the everything, I spun around and slapped him hard across the face. "I'd rather die than marry a disgusting, monstrous devil like you!" the words ripped from my throat.

Lorenzo froze, then burst into a maniacal laugh.

The gravity of what I had just done hit me. I stumbled backward, looking at my parents. They looked utterly horrified. Mabel was already sobbing silently, and Chris looked ready to kill, though he stayed rooted to his spot.

"Oh, I love this feistiness, pretty flower," Lorenzo chuckled, wiping his cheek. "You'd rather die than marry me, is it? But what if I don't let you die? What if I let your family die instead? There are thousands of ways to kill a human. Have you watched the documentaries?"

Everything inside me went cold.

"What if Chris is walking to school one morning, and a car just happens to crush him? Or your father? What if he's on his way to work, and out of nowhere, a stray bullet hits him straight in the head, bursting it open?" He laughed again, enjoying the terror on my face. What if your sister was going for her waitress job after school and she gets kidnapped, days later her body is found lifeless and her limbs butched?

"No... please," I whispered, horrified.

"Oh, and your dearest Mama... she could go get vegetables from the market, cook dinner for the family, and the next morning, nobody wakes up."

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, tears finally blurring my vision. "You asked for your money, and I told you I would pay back every single penny! Then why are you doing this?!"

"I want you, pretty flower," he said, stepping into my space and locking his gaze onto mine. "Because I love how fierce you are. You're like a fire in a pouring rain. And I want to tame you."

He turned back to my father. "Dante, it's up to you now, it's either you give me my money right now, and I let your family live or you wed your daughter to me and I forgive the debt."

Father sat there, paralyzed. He knew marrying me off to this monster was the same as throwing me into a bottomless abyss. But if I didn't do this, my entire family would be wiped out. I would lose everyone. I rubbed my trembling temples, sniffing back the tears. I couldn't let my pride destroy the people I loved.

"I'll marry you," I said, breaking the suffocating silence. I looked him dead in the eye, baring my teeth. "You hear that, motherfucker? I'll marry you," I added frustrated.