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Elena POV
The rain slammed against the thin roof of our little house, a steady drumbeat that matched the panic coiling in my chest. I pressed my palms against the cold window, trying to convince myself it was just the storm outside. But deep down, I already knew this was bigger than the weather. The feeling had been growing for weeks, and tonight it was suffocating. "Elena… we have a problem." My father's voice came from behind me, quiet and shaky. I turned around slowly. He was standing in the doorway holding a crumpled envelope, his hands trembling so badly the paper shook with them. His face looked pale under the yellow light of the old lamp. He wasn’t even trying to hide it this time. My stomach dropped before he said another word. “What’s going on?” I asked. My voice came out smaller than I wanted. He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at me with those sad, guilty eyes. The kind of look that made my chest tighten. “We’ve got a problem, kiddo.” I swallowed hard. “What kind of problem?” He rubbed a hand over his face, the stubble scratching loud in the quiet room. “The debt. I… I thought I could handle it. Thought I had more time. But they’re done waiting.” My heart started beating faster. I already knew what he was talking about. Gambling. Again. After everything he promised when Mom died. After all the nights I sat with him while he cried and swore he’d never touch another card or bet. “How much?” I whispered. He looked away. “A lot. More than we’ve got. Way more.” Before I could say anything else, a loud bang hit the front door. Hard. The whole house seemed to shake with it. "Rossi! Open up!" Dad jumped like someone had shot at him. The envelope fell out of his hands and papers scattered across the floor. I could see red stamps on them from where I stood. Late notices. Warnings. Threats. “Dad…” My voice cracked. Another bang. Even harder this time. The door rattled like it was about to break. “I’m coming!” My father called out, but his voice sounded weak. Scared. He looked at me with this broken expression I’ll never forget. “Stay back, Elena. Please.” But I couldn’t. I followed him as he walked to the door, my bare feet cold on the wooden floor. My hands were shaking. When he opened the door, cold wind and rain rushed inside, and three big men stepped in without waiting to be invited. They filled up our tiny living room instantly. Big coats dripping water everywhere, hard faces, no smiles. The tallest one stepped forward first. He didn’t yell. He didn’t need to. The way he looked at my dad was enough. “You’re late again, Rossi.” My father put his hands up a little. “Please… just give me a few more weeks. I’ve got something lined up, I swear—” The man cut him off with a short laugh. “You’ve been saying that for months. The boss is finished with your excuses.” His eyes moved past my dad and landed straight on me. He looked me up and down slow, like he was checking out a piece of furniture. I took a step back until my back hit the wall. “She’s pretty. Young. Looks healthy.” “No,” I said, my voice shaking. “Dad, tell them no.” But my dad just stood there, shoulders slumped, like all the fight had already gone out of him. “You said there was another way,” he whispered. “You told me there was another way to settle this.” The tallest man nodded once. “There is. We’ll take the girl.” The words hit me like a punch to the chest. For a second I couldn’t even breathe. “No!” I shouted. “You can’t just take me! This is crazy!” I tried to run to the kitchen, but two of the men moved fast. One grabbed my arm, twisting it behind my back. The other caught me around the waist when I tried to kick him. “Dad! Help me!” I screamed. My father lunged forward, but the third man shoved him hard against the wall. Dad hit it with a sick thud and slid down, tears already running down his face. “Elena… I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so fucking sorry. I never wanted this. I love you, baby. Please forgive me…” I was fighting like hell, kicking and twisting and screaming. My elbow connected with one of the men’s ribs and he grunted, but it didn’t loosen his grip. They were too strong. Too used to this. “Stop struggling,” one of them growled in my ear. “It’s done.” Tears were pouring down my face now. I kept looking at my dad on the floor, reaching out like he could somehow stop this. But he couldn’t. We both knew it. “Dad! Don’t let them take me! Please!” He was crying harder now, still on the floor. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” They guided me toward the door. My father tried to speak, tried to fight, but the men silenced him with a look. . The rain poured harder as we stepped outside. The night was cold, the wind biting, but I barely felt it. All I could feel was the terror and the humiliation of being dragged from my home like I was nothing more than a possession. My life had changed in a single moment, and there was no turning back. My father's eyes lingered on me, full of helplessness. He opened his mouth, tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat. I wanted to run to him, to scream that I would be okay, but I knew deep down that nothing could make this okay. The men led me away from the house, their steps steady, calm, professional. I stumbled once, and a hand gripped my arm. I flinched, but they didn't release me. The message was clear: resistance was useless. The moment I realized it, I felt a hollow emptiness settle in my chest. My life was no longer my own. I had no control. No one to protect me. How could he do this to me? How could my own father gamble away my life like this? Memories flooded through the panic. Mom’s gentle smile and the way she fought cancer with everything she had until the end. She died when I was fourteen, slow and painful. After that, Dad completely fell apart. The gambling became worse and worse. He kept saying one big win would fix everything. I believed him. I covered for him. I worked extra shifts until my feet ached and my eyes burned. I stayed up dreaming of a normal future, of finally being able to breathe. I had sacrificed so much for him. And this was how he repaid me. Tears mixed with the rain on my face as the men pulled me further into the darkness. I looked back one last time at our little house, the only home I had ever known. It was already fading. And just like that, my fate was sealed. I would not be returning home tonight. I would not see my father again. Perhaps… ever.Elena POV “You’re Isabella.” She didn’t jump or look shocked like I thought she would. She just stood there for a second, quiet, watching me like she had been waiting for those words to come out of my mouth. Then she smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. It wasn’t friendly. It was the kind of smile that knew too much, like she had already played this moment out in her head a hundred times. “So he kept a ghost in the house,” she said softly. “I thought he would’ve buried me deeper than that.” Her voice was calm, almost gentle, like the mess I came from didn’t touch her here. It made my stomach twist in a weird way, like something was wrong with the air between us. I swallowed hard. My throat felt tight. “You had him shot.” She tilted her head a little. The way she looked at me made everything feel off. We had the same eyes, the same shape of the face. It was like staring at a version of myself that had already gone wrong somewhere along the way. “And yet, he’s still breathing. He alw
Everything fell apart all at once, like the whole world decided to come crashing down on us right then. The place turned into this blur of flashing lights and loud, awful noise — gunshots popping off, people yelling over each other, boots stomping hard on the floors. It no longer felt like Dante’s usual tight control. This was a messy, ugly chaos. Dante yanked me into the next hallway, his hand locked around my wrist so tight I could feel his pulse hammering. He wasn’t letting go, not even for a breath, like losing me would end everything for him. His steps were fast and jerky now. He already knew the building had slipped from our hands. “They’re splitting up,” he muttered. “Cutting us off, blocking every exit.” I didn’t bother asking how he knew all that. I could feel it in my bones too — the sounds closing in on us in a smart, planned way, like a noose pulling tight. “They’re not here just to trash the place,” I said, breathing hard. “It feels like they’re after something speci
We didn’t stop moving. Dante held my wrist real tight, like he was scared I’d slip away if he let go even a bit. He pulled me through hallway after hallway, his steps all jerky and fast, the kind that had my lungs burning pretty quick. The alarms kept blaring this steady noise that rattled right through my teeth and made my head pound. Gunshots cracked out every few seconds somewhere behind us, way too close for comfort. None of it felt like Dante at all. He was usually the guy who had everything figured out, always thinking two steps ahead so nothing caught him off guard. Seeing him running like this, just reacting, made my stomach do a sick flip. “Where are we even going?” I asked him, trying to suck in air between the words. “Out,” he said, real short like he didn’t want to waste any breath. “That doesn’t feel like out to me.” “It is. Just keep moving.” But I could tell it wasn't. This felt like we were heading down into some forgotten part of the building that nobod
Elena POV “You went out.” I didn’t turn right away. I already knew that low and steady tone. The kind that meant he was holding everything tight under the surface. Still, I looked up. He was walking toward me, steps measured and direct, like he’d already decided how this conversation was going to end before it even started. “I needed air,” I said. “Don’t.” His voice cut through mine without getting louder. “Don’t lie to me right now.” I let out a slow breath and leaned back against the edge of the table, folding my arms across my chest. “I’m not lying.” He stopped right in front of me. Too close. Close enough that I could feel the tension coming off him in waves, like something underneath all that control was starting to fray at the edges. “Where did you go?” he asked. “Outside.” “Where.” I met his eyes properly this time. “Since when do I have to give you a full report on every single step I take?” “Since your steps started putting you in places you shouldn’t be.” That on
Elena POV “You’re sure this is the place?” The driver’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up from my phone, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror for a second before looking back down at the screen. The blurry photo I’d taken in that hidden room was still open, coordinates glowing underneath it. I’d checked them so many times during the drive that the numbers felt burned into my brain. “Yeah,” I said. “This is it. Stop here.” The car slowed and came to a stop, tires crunching over cracked concrete. I didn’t wait, I pushed the door open and stepped out into the cool air. It hit me right away — thinner, quieter, heavier. Like this whole stretch of land had been deliberately emptied out. “This doesn’t look like anything,” the driver muttered, leaning out his window as I closed the door. I glanced back at him. “It’s fine. Just wait for me, I won’t be long.” He nodded, but the hesitation was clear on his face. I didn’t blame him. The place looked wrong. Rows of o
Dante POV “Run it again.” The guard didn’t argue, but I saw the way his shoulders tensed for a second before his fingers went back to the keyboard. He pulled up the same feeds we’d already picked apart twice. I stayed right where I was, leaning over the desk with my arms crossed tight, staring at that big screen like I could make it show me something different if I looked hard enough. It didn’t. It was the same clean routes. Same perfect timestamps. Same smooth-as-glass execution that didn’t feel right at all. “It’s identical,” the guard said after a bit, keeping his voice low and careful. “No deviations. No interruptions.” I let out a slow breath and leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk until my knuckles went white. “That’s exactly what’s wrong with it.” Nobody jumped in to say anything. They were all just waiting, watching me, trying to figure out what I was seeing that they couldn’t. The room felt heavy, like the air itself was holding its breath. I straightened up







