All Chapters of The Debt of Passion: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The following morning, Isabella awoke to the soft glow of dawn creeping through the thick velvet curtains of the guest room. The air smelled of lavender, the kind that filled the mansion’s halls with an almost suffocating sense of opulence. The grand bed, its satin sheets smooth beneath her, felt strange in the silence of her surroundings. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to believe that last night hadn’t really happened. That the terrifying encounter with Lorenzo Castillo was just a bad dream. But the feeling of his gaze, dark and predatory, lingered in her mind like a phantom touch. It wasn’t just his words that haunted her—it was the power in them, the way he had claimed her without hesitation. Her mind raced, trying to find an explanation, any reason for why she was here. But she already knew the answer. She was his now, whether she liked it or not. Isabella sat up, the cold of the polished floor beneath her feet snapping her out of the daze. Her mind felt heavy with

The mansion was quiet, but Isabella couldn’t escape the tension that hung in the air like a heavy fog. The crackle of the fire in the grand fireplace was the only sound that filled the silence, but it did nothing to calm her nerves. Her thoughts were racing, a whirlwind of confusion, fear, and anger. The storm outside mirrored the chaos in her mind, a reflection of how trapped she felt in this life she never asked for. She had tried to fight it. She had tried to push back. But every time she thought she was making progress, Lorenzo pulled her back into his web, a web she couldn’t seem to escape. Isabella stood near the window, her gaze fixed on the rain that lashed against the glass. The storm outside seemed endless, just like the conflict inside her. The realization that she would never be free from this life, from him, settled heavily in her chest. Her body was here, in the mansion, but her mind was still fighting. Was it hopeless? Was she doomed to be his prisoner forever? The

Isabella stared at her reflection in the ornate mirror, her fingers gripping the edge of the vanity. The reflection of her in the glass was pristine, yet she felt the exact opposite. Her mind raced, the weight of her decision to protect her brother pressing harder with each passing moment. The smooth golden bracelet on her wrist glimmered in the morning light—a luxury, yes, but also a shackle. She had never felt so trapped in her life. The knock on her door startled her, and she quickly wiped the tears that had formed without her realizing, she hated how vulnerable she felt this days. Turning, she saw Elena, the ever-dutiful housekeeper, peeking in. The older woman’s expression was a mix of sympathy and urgency as she stepped inside, carrying a tray laden with breakfast. “Good morning, señorita,” Elena greeted softly, her voice calming despite the tension hanging in the room. “Señor Lorenzo is waiting for you in the dining room.” Isabella arched a brow, still seated at the vanity.

The tension in the air was palpable as Isabella stood face to face with the men who had broken into the mansion. They moved with the precision of trained soldiers, their eyes scanning her every movement. The scarred man, who had spoken earlier, took a step closer, his boots clicking against the marble floor. His presence was suffocating, but Isabella stood her ground, refusing to show any signs of weakness. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with,” Isabella said, her voice cold and commanding, though her heart raced in her chest. The words felt foreign on her tongue, but they were all she had left. Her thoughts raced back to Lorenzo. Where was he? Why hadn’t he come yet? The scarred man’s lips curled into a slow, menacing smile. “Oh, I know exactly who you are, Señorita. You’re the woman who has everything Lorenzo holds dear. The woman he would burn this city for.” Isabella’s breath caught in her throat. The words stung more than she expected. Lorenzo. Her body reacted instinctive

Isabella had been prepared to face the brutal realities of Lorenzo’s world, but nothing had prepared her for the harshness of the training that followed. After their conversation in the study, where Lorenzo laid bare the dangerous game they were now forced to play, she had reluctantly agreed to learn how to protect herself. For her brother’s sake, and for her own, she knew she had to become more than just a pawn in this world of power struggles and violence. Lorenzo didn’t waste time. The next morning, he led her to a secluded part of his estate, an old training ground hidden behind tall iron gates. There, several of his most trusted men were already waiting. Isabella tried not to show her nerves as she stepped into the clearing. They were all armed, their expressions unreadable, as if they had seen too much violence to be moved by anything now. Lorenzo’s voice cut through the silence. “Isabella, this is Luca, Miguel, and Diego,” he said, gesturing toward three of his most experien