Semua Bab BLOOD DEBT, BRAVE HEART : Bab 1 - Bab 8

A week passed. Seven long days since I saw that man bleeding on the floor of Club Rosario.I kept thinking about his face—the sharp jaw, the shadow of a beard, those dark eyes filled with something heavy, like pain or rage. He didn’t even say his name before he vanished.No call. No message. Not even a damn thanks.And me? I was still stuck in the same cycle: washing dishes at the diner, counting every penny for Mama’s pills, pretending my sister, Carmen didn’t exist.The meds were almost gone. Mama’s cough was getting worse. She barely got out of bed now. Her hands shook when she held a spoon. Sometimes I found her staring at the ceiling like she was counting how many breaths she had left.I needed money. I needed it fast. Bad.So when Carmen showed up at the diner one evening, all sweet and sugary with a fake smile on her lips, I should’ve known something was off.“Need a ride home?” she asked, popping her gum. “Feet must be killing you.”I paused. Carmen was never nice to me. She

The car that came for me was black, silent, and smelled like gunpowder and leather. It felt dangerous Two men in dark suits didn’t say a word as they opened the door. I slid into the backseat, holding the phone Diego gave me like it might explode.As we drove away, I watched my neighborhood fade in the rear view mirror—cracked sidewalks, barking dogs, broken porch lights. I’d lived there my whole life. Now I was leaving it behind with nothing but a small backpack and my mother’s medicine schedule scribbled on a napkin. My heart ached thinking about her, alone, coughing, needing me. We drove for what felt like hours, and I lost track of time. My mind spinning with worry and fear. Then the gates appeared—tall, iron, and topped with spikes. They opened slowly, groaning like they were warning me.The house wasn’t a house. It was a fortress.Stone walls. Security cameras. Men with rifles, their faces hard and unfriendly. A wide driveway led to a sleek mansion with glass windows and shar

I froze.The office door creaked open—just an inch—but it was enough to make my heart pound so loud I could hear it in my ears. My chest felt tight, like I couldn’t get enough air. My heart slammed so hard I thought it would break my ribs.Voices drifted in from the hallway. A man’s. Deep. Serious. Then a woman’s—soft, flirtatious, like she was trying to charm someone. They were right outside the door. I panicked and slipped behind the long, heavy curtain by the bookshelf. I pulled it closed as quietly as I could, careful not to make the fabric rustle. My hands shook as I held the small burner phone in my pocket. That phone had photos—proof that could get me in big trouble. Proof that could get me killed.The door opened all the way.Footsteps.Two pairs.First, I heard high heels clicking on the floor. Then the heavy thud of men’s shoes—loafers, I think.They entered the office like they owned it.They probably did.“Close the door,” the man said.It clicked shut behind them. I he

The tray crashed to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.My heart stopped beating for a second. I looked up and Santiago’s eyes locked onto mine—dark, sharp, deadly.“She’s the one,” he said, standing slowly from his chai. “Diego’s girl.”The men around him stiffened. Their hands moved to their jacket pockets where I knew Guns were hidden. I didn’t think. I turned and ran.People screamed as I shoved past dancers and waitresses. Lights blurred. Music pulsed like a war drum in my ears.I didn’t dare look back.I couldn’t.Gunshots cracked behind me.Pop! Pop! Pop!I ducked low, my heart racing. My foot slipped on a puddle of spilled drink, and I fell to the floor.Pain shot through my knees, but I scrambled up and kept running. I had to get out.I saw a hallway up ahead. At the end was a heavy door. I ran toward it, my legs shaking. I pushed it open and found a dark metal stairwell. My high heels clicked loudly on the concrete steps as I stumbled down. My legs burned, and my