All Chapters of To Her, I Was a Debt, Not a Husband: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

On the night before the Moretti succession ceremony, I found a post in the Confessional of the Dead that had been sent from ten years in the future.“If you could rewrite your blood oath, whom would you erase from the family tree?”The anonymous reply read:“Leon Vita.”“If not for that adopted son who used a life-debt to secure his place—a man destined to become my husband and consigliere—I could have had Matteo at my side years ago.”The poster’s icon was a black iris.Viola Moretti had used it as her private seal for seventeen years.The birth year, family crest, and encrypted signature on the profile all belonged to her as well.Only the date was wrong.The post had come from ten years in the future.At first, I thought it was a trap forged by a rival family. Then she mentioned my parents’ deaths in the comments.Twelve years ago, an ambush erupted at St. Maria Docks.My father shielded a young Viola from the first volley of gunfire. My mother rammed a car through the blockade and

I stared at the screen until the only sound I could hear was my own heartbeat.“How did he die?”The older Viola seemed unwilling to remember.Only after night had completely fallen did her answer arrive.“After the succession banquet, his grandmother died.”“Leon decided Matteo had killed her. He stormed into the council chamber with a gun and nearly shot him.”“I had no choice but to strip him of the family name and lock him in the White Cellar beneath the Old Customs House.”“No choice?” I asked.“He had lost control.”“And the evidence showed that he sold the North Shore warehouse routes to the police. By family law, he should have been executed on the spot.”Cold sweat gathered in my palms.“Why did his grandmother die?”“A heart attack.”“Matteo only went to deliver a wedding invitation. While he was there, he told the old woman that he and I were the ones truly in love.”“She couldn’t accept it. They argued.”“You believed him?”“Matteo wouldn’t lie about something like that. He

Viola saw another version of herself.In that world, Leon had never left.He still checked every ledger for her, memorized every shipping route, and stepped between her and the first bullet whenever an assassin came.She had loved Leon once.But that love had always been tangled with her parents’ orders, the family’s expectations, and a blood debt that could never be repaid. In time, it began to feel like suffocation.That was when Matteo drew close.He never spoke of duty, only desire. He never reminded her what kind of boss she ought to become; he only told her how beautiful she looked when she fired a gun.After their first peace talks in Sicily, they kissed on the rooftop of the hotel.When she returned to Port Aspera, she gave Leon the saint’s medal she had picked up casually from the same shop. The medal Matteo had engraved for her with his own hands remained hidden against her heart.She basked in Leon’s absolute trust while surrendering herself to the thrill Matteo offered.She

After the freighter sailed beyond Port Aspera, a message from Viola appeared on my phone.It contained only one sentence.“Safe journey.”I looked at it for a few seconds before replying, “Thank you.”“This number will be disconnected today. If you need anything, contact Mr. Moretti.”Then I removed the SIM card, snapped it in half, and dropped it into the metal bin at the stern.The old harbor disappeared into the fog.My grandmother and I went first to Bergen. Six months later, we settled in Lisbon.The North Sea Mercantile Association kept its promise. I joined its legitimate marine insurance division, and it found a doctor to take over my grandmother’s care.No one there demanded that I love someone, protect someone, or surrender my life to someone simply because my parents had died.For the first time, I learned that a home did not need to be bound to a debt.The first few months were not easy.A ship’s horn could wake me in the middle of the night, my hand already reaching for th