Chapter 1: Ten Million in Blood

I stood in the mud, staring at the cheap pine box. It was already warping in the rain.

My father, Matteo, was inside. He died the way he lived—broke, alone, and terrifying.

I didn't cry. I couldn't. The tears were stuck somewhere deep inside my chest, frozen by a cold, hollow numbness. I just wanted this to be over. I wanted to go back to my tiny, damp apartment and pretend none of this was real.

The priest checked his watch. He muttered a few words, rushing through the prayer. He wanted to leave.

I couldn't blame him. I wanted to leave too.

Suddenly, the few people who had shown up—low-level associates of my father—went quiet.

The air shifted. It turned heavy. Suffocating.

Then, without a word, they backed away. They scurried off, disappearing into the grey mist.

My stomach dropped.

I turned around.

A black umbrella cut through the gloom. Beneath it stood Aureliano Vitale.

I stopped breathing.

He was thirty-four, but he looked ancient. Terrifying. He wore a charcoal suit that looked cleaner than my soul. He didn't look at the grave. He didn't look at the priest.

He looked straight at me.

His gaze wasn't just heavy. It was ownership.

"Graziella," he said.

My name sounded like a curse in his mouth.

"Aureliano." My voice cracked. I tried to stand tall, but my knees were shaking. I dug my fingernails into my palms until it hurt. "You... you didn't come here to mourn."

He stepped closer. He took up all the space. He smelled of expensive leather and rain. He was too big. Too close.

"Mourning is for people who lose something," he said coldly. "I came to collect."

Collect?

Panic flared in my chest. "Collect what?"

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a stack of papers. He shoved them at me.

My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped them. I stared at the numbers. My vision blurred.

"He's dead," I whispered, the paper rattling in my grip. "Whatever he owed you... it’s gone. He’s gone."

Aureliano’s lips curled. It wasn't a smile. It was a baring of teeth.

"In my world, debt doesn't die. It inherits."

He stepped into my personal space. I wanted to run, but my feet were stuck in the mud.

"Ten million euros, Graziella. That was the final tally when his heart stopped."

Ten million.

The world spun. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.

Ten million? I had twelve euros in my pocket. I was starving. I was three months behind on rent.

"I don't have it," I gasped. "You know I don't! I have nothing!"

"I know."

His voice was terrifyingly calm.

"Matteo knew it too. That’s why he signed the secondary clause."

He reached out, his gloved hand brushing my freezing skin. I flinched. He flipped to the last page.

There, at the bottom, was my father’s shaky signature.

And right above it, a single line of text that made my heart stop beating.

Collateral: Graziella.

No.

No, no, no.

"You can't do this," I choked out. I stepped back, stumbling. "I’m a person! You can't own a person!"

Aureliano caught my chin. His grip was iron. He forced me to look at him, to see the absolute, cold emptiness in his grey eyes.

"Yesterday, you were a person," he said softly. "Today? You’re an asset."

He released me, checking his watch like I was a boring meeting he had to attend.

"The interest is compounding every second you stand there arguing. Get in the car."

He pointed toward the gate. A line of black SUVs sat idling.

Panic clawed at my throat. I looked around wildly.

The priest was gone. The mourners were gone.

I was alone.

There was no one to help me. No one to call. No one coming to save me.

My father had sold me. He had gambled his life, lost, and paid with mine.

"And if I refuse?" I asked, my voice trembling. "If I run?"

Aureliano turned back to me. His eyes were dead.

"There is no refusal. You belong to the Vitale estate now. You run, I hunt you. And when I catch you..."

He let the threat hang in the air. It was worse than if he’d screamed it.

"Get. In."

I looked at the cheap casket one last time.

I hate you, Papa. I hate you.

I walked through the rain. My legs moved on autopilot. I felt sick. Dizzy.

The driver held the door open. I slid onto the plush leather seat next to Aureliano.

The door slammed shut. Thud.

The silence was instant. It trapped me. It smelled of new car and old money.

Aureliano tapped on his tablet, already ignoring me. He didn't look at me. He didn't offer a towel. He didn't care that I was shivering.

"Driver," he said calmly. "Home."

The engine purred to life. As we pulled away from the cemetery, dragging me away from the only life I knew, Aureliano finally glanced at me.

His eyes swept over my wet clothes, my shaking hands, my terrified face. He looked satisfied.

"Don't look so scared, Graziella," he said, his voice dark and smooth.

He leaned in close. Too close.

"The debt is just the beginning. Wait until you see how you're going to pay it."