THE GRAFF

CHAPTER 3:

TITLE:THE GRAFF

HARLEY

Those seven words made my heart do a violent somersault.

I swallowed hard, forcing down the dry lump in my throat as I unraveled the crimson ribbon. I took a steadying breath, doing everything in my power to keep the raw terror off my face so my colleagues wouldn't notice.

I finally lifted the lid, and my breath hitched in my chest.

Resting against dark velvet was a stunning diamond bracelet—the kind of piece that clearly cost an arm and a leg. Before I could process the sight of it, my phone buzzed on the counter, its screen lighting up with a notification from an unknown number.

My hands trembled violently as I picked it up to read the text.

I hope you like the gift, princess.

A cold sweat broke out across my back.

“Harley! Stop slacking off and get back to work!”

Mrs. Henderson’s sharp voice cut through the air, snapping me back to reality.

“Sorry, ma’am! Right away!” I squeaked out.

With shaking fingers, I slammed the box shut, shoved it alongside my phone deep into my apron pocket, and rushed back to wiping down the counters. The rest of my shift passed in a blur of pure panic. The moment my hours were up, I bolted out the door.

When I reached home, the house was heavy with an unbearable silence. I didn't say a single word to my parents as I slipped past the living room, ignoring their heavy, guilty gazes. I practically threw myself into my bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking it tight.

I dropped onto my bed, pulled my laptop onto my lap, and opened a browser window. My fingers flew across the keyboard as I typed into the search bar: Don Carlos.

Nothing.

I tried Don Carlos mafia, Don Carlos Russian syndicate, Don Carlos debt collector.

Page after page came back completely blank, or filled with irrelevant articles about historical figures and restaurants. There was not a single trace of him online. The total absence of information made my stomach churn even worse. He was a shadow, a ghost with unlimited power, capable of erasing himself entirely from the public eye.

A frantic knock on my bedroom door shattered the eerie quiet.

“Harley? Honey, Lesley is here to see you,” my mother’s voice called out softly from the hallway.

“Les?” I called back, my voice cracking.

“Harley, open up!” Lesley’s panicked voice echoed through the wood.

I scrambled off the bed and unlocked the door. The moment I pulled it open, the look on Lesley’s face made my heart drop straight into my stomach. She was pale, her lips trembling, and her eyes were wide with genuine horror.

I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her inside, locking the door behind us. “Les, what happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Without saying a word, Lesley reached into her tote bag with trembling hands and pulled out a sleek matte-black box identical to the one sitting in my apron.

My breath trapped itself in my throat. “No...”

“Ley, I got this package delivered to my front door twenty minutes ago,” Lesley stammered, her voice shaking violently as she popped the lid open. Inside sat an exquisite, glistening diamond necklace. “There was a note inside signed 'DC'. And guess what? This isn't just any regular necklace. It's a Graff, Harley. A custom Graff,this cost millions”.

Of course Lesley would know that,she's a jewelry freak.

I stared at the glittering diamonds, a cold dread paralyzing my entire body.

“Whoever this man is, he sure is loaded,” Lesley whispered, looking up at me with sheer terror in her eyes. “He sent this to my house, Ley. He knows where I live. He knows who I am.”

The terrifying reality of the situation hit me like a physical blow. Don Carlos didn't just have a contract on my life; he knew literally everyone around me. He was watching my friends, tracking my movements, and dropping thousands of dollars on gifts just to show us that nowhere was safe.

“This looks more serious than it sounds, Les,” I choked out, wrapping my arms around myself as a violent shiver ran down my spine. “He’s not just waiting for my birthday. He’s already everywhere.”

I pulled my own matte-black box out of my apron pocket, my fingers shaking as I placed it on the bed right next to Lesley’s.

"I got one too," I whispered.

Lesley’s breath hitched. She watched in stunned silence as I opened the lid to reveal the blinding diamond bracelet, followed by the text on my phone: I hope you like the gift, princess.

Nervousness twisted like a heavy coil in the pit of my stomach, turning into sheer, suffocating dread. The sheer audacity of it, the quiet flex of unlimited wealth and power—it wasn't romantic. It was a terrifying reminder that we were being hunted.

"Les... I can't do this," I said, my voice cracking as I looked up at her, my eyes burning with desperate tears. "I can't marry this man. He isn't just a loan shark or some shady businessman. He’s a monster. He’s worse than anything I could have ever imagined."

Lesley stared down at the two glittering boxes, her mind clearly racing behind her terrified eyes. Slowly, the panic on her face shifted into a sharp, calculated focus. She looked up at me, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"Then you're not going to marry him," Lesley said, her voice dropping into a determined whisper.

I blinked through my tears, startled. "What? Les, how? You saw the contract. He has my father trapped, and he has eyes everywhere."

Lesley leaned in closer, grabbing both of my hands in hers, her grip tightening.

"Harley, hear me out," she whispered, her eyes locking firmly onto mine. "I have an idea."