ELENA I moved tirelessly, like the tide taking down orders from the various customers scattered around the cafe. It felt like I was the sole worker today, but rush hours like this were part of the job. Every now and then, my eyes would drift to the wall clock, silently hoping for my shift to end soon. "Sweetheart, where's my coffee?" A middle-aged customer winked at me with a sly smile. I was irritated, but I managed to flash him a facade smile. "Coming right up, sir." Making my way to the kitchen, I let out a tired sigh, dropping my empty tray in the sink. "Your shift ended a minute ago. You're free now, Elena," Daren, my colleague, cheekily remarked. "You can say that again. See you tomorrow, Daren." I waved my goodbye before heading out. A group of four burly men in black entered, drawing numerous eyes with their imposing presence. Unfazed, I moved forward to where I'd drop my apron when one of them called out. "You there, did you not see us? Come take our order," he

************* The room was hushed, the weight of Elena's father's words hanging in the air. His face, once filled with warmth and laughter, was now etched with lines of worry and regret. He cleared his throat, his voice heavy with the burden of his confession. "I don't know how to say this," he started, his voice faltering, "but I've gotten myself into a dire situation. I've incurred a debt with a man, a dangerous one, and... and there have been threats made against our lives." Elena's breath caught in her throat, her mind racing to make sense of the words. "Threats? Father, who is this man? What kind of debt are we talking about?" Elena's father hesitated, his gaze dropping to the letter. "His name is Marco Moretti. He's a powerful figure, and I owe him a substantial amount of money. I fear for our lives, Elena. For yours and your brother's." "Elena, I'm thinking of offering you to the crime boss in exchange for our lives." Elena's hands clenched into fists, her anger and

************* The dimly lit lounge wrapped Marco in an intoxicating mix of luxury and allure. His crew stood by, solid as the stone walls around them. Women paraded all around him. In the midst of the wild party, his thoughts kept drifting to Elena. Seventy-two hours. A ticking clock to her surrender. He could almost taste the victory of breaking her spirit. Suddenly, Vinny, his right-hand man, rushed over looking all serious. "Marco, you gotta know this. The Vittorio, they're up to something suspicious." "The Vittorio, huh?" Marco mused. The name carried weight in their world. "Keep an eye on them, Santiago. This might get interesting." As Vinny hurried off, Marco let himself be swept back into the rhythm of the lounge. "Hello mister," one of the strippers purred, a naughty gleam in her eye. Marco gave her a sly grin. "Spicing up the night, aren't you?" She leaned closer, her voice a sultry secret. "Names don't matter, as long as you remember the moment." Elena A

I struggled to regain my composure, questioning Marco's sanity. Why would he unleash such brutality on Daren? The fear of others getting hurt due to this madness gripped my thoughts. My 72 hours were up, and I contemplated surrendering to Marco before more damage unfolded. It wasn’t long before, Marco and his imposing entourage made a formidable entrance, the evening breeze conspiring to announce their arrival. The subtle creak of the door, the hushed whispers of his accompanying goons – it was a well played out display of intimidation as Marco stepped into the room, casting a commanding shadow that seemed to stretch across the entire space. "Tempo scaduto, Elena," Marco pronounced, his demand echoing through the room. "I want that answer now." "I...l-" I started, my words hesitating. "Be careful, Elena," Marco interrupted, his warning carrying a palpable sense of impending consequences. "I'll accept your offer, Marco," I uttered, a tinge of sadness in my voice. However, ther