Debt was not always measured in money.
Sometimes it was measured in blood, Sometimes in loyalty, and sometimes, when a man had nothing left to give, it was paid in flesh and fate.
Elena Russo learned this standing in the hallway outside her father's study, listening to a conversation she was never meant to hear.
He walked majestically with his guards inside the room, the darkness of the room cast a harsh shadow on his face; it suited him.
There was a young handsome man dressed in a light blue blazer suit, one could say the suit matched with his eyeballs which make's them pop.
He was tall wine of glass that i could not mined drinking at that momment, his arms looked like they were made from irons.
All i could see was him pinning me to the wall with those arms and they will be no excape for me. I tried to snap myself from the dream because he was not a lover but an enemy.
Her father's voice—once strong, once proud—was shaking.
"I just need more time," he pleaded. "I swear it. One last chance."
Time was something Luca Moretti never gave.
The men who came to collect spoke softly, politely even. That was what terrified her most. No raised voices. No threats. Just inevitability.
"Time ran out months ago," one of them said calmly. "The interest alone is crushing you. The Black King has been…patient."
Patient.
Elena clenched her fists. Her father had borrowed money when his business failed, when desperation had hollowed him out and pride had driven him to dangerous places. Luca Moretti's name had been whispered then too, like a forbidden prayer, Power, Protection. A way out.
There was never a way out.
She stepped into the doorway before she could stop herself. "How much?" she demanded. "How much does he want?"
The men turned. Their eyes lingered on her longer than they should have.
All of a suden he walked towards me and fear greaped me, He looked at me indifferently.
" so you are the one", I was confused....
this when realization strucked me that he was the one, all of a sudden i couldn't breath, then i gasped for air.
A soft tendered lips, scented like strawberry suddenly caresd the back of my neck, all i could see was me extracting this juicy lips with my mouth.
Then he wispered into my ears with his deep musculine voice that took my soul from my body, his voice was like that of an angel, that enchanted my spirit.
He said " you mine" the full room went dark, i know i could picture my marriage already with the ruthless mafia.
"I asked what I can offer", He said....
"More than money," one said.
Her father's shoulders sagged, the weight of his sins finally crushing him. He couldn't meet her eyes. That hurt more than anything else.
"Elena…" he began.
She understood then. Truly understood.
The debt wasn't numbers on paper. It was leverage, Control. A reminder that Luca Moretti didn't collect money—he collected people.
"You can't," she said, her voice breaking for the first time. "You can't give me away."
Her father knelt in front of her, hands trembling as he reached for her face. "I didn't know," he whispered. "I didn't think it would come to this."
But it always did.
That night, Elena didn't sleep. She packed slowly, mechanically, her mind numb. Each folded dress felt like a goodbye to the life she knew. Every breath felt stolen.
When the car came for her, black and silent, she walked out without looking back. Pride was the only thing she had left.
The estate loomed like a fortress when she arrived—cold, massive, impenetrable. This was where debts came to die.
Inside, Luca Moretti waited.
He read the file once more before she entered. Russo Failed businessman, Gambling, Bad investments, Poor choices, Weakness. Luca felt nothing for the man. He felt…curiosity about the daughter.
When she stepped into the room, defiant despite the fear rolling off her in waves, something shifted.
This was not a woman begging for mercy.
This was a woman forced into sacrifice.
"Your father owes me a great deal," Luca said calmly, watching her reaction.
"I know," Elena replied. "That's why I'm here."
He studied her closely. She was composed, but her eyes betrayed exhaustion and fury. Not fear. Never fear.
"You understand what the debt requires?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, swallowing. "My life. My name. My freedom."
Silence stretched between them.
"Marriage," he corrected.
Her laugh was sharp, humorless. "Call it whatever makes it easier."
Luca leaned back, considering her. "Debts must be paid," he said. "This one will secure your father's life. His protection. His peace."
"And mine?" she asked.
He held her gaze. "You will belong to my world."
Belong…..
The word wrapped around her like chains.
She nodded once. "Then the debt is paid."
Not with money.
Not with blood.
But with a woman who would change everything.
As she turned away, Luca realized something dangerous.
The debt had bought him more than leverage.
It had brought him Elena Russo.
And debts like this were never truly settled.
Debt was not always measured in money.
Sometimes it was measured in blood, Sometimes in loyalty, and sometimes, when a man had nothing left to give, it was paid in flesh and fate.
Elena Russo learned this standing in the hallway outside her father's study, listening to a conversation she was never meant to hear.
He walked majestically with his guards inside the room, the darkness of the room cast a harsh shadow on his face; it suited him.
There was a young handsome man dressed in a light blue blazer suit, one could say the suit matched with his eyeballs which make's them pop.
He was tall wine of glass that i could not mined drinking at that momment, his arms looked like they were made from irons.
All i could see was him pinning me to the wall with those arms and they will be no excape for me. I tried to snap myself from the dream because he was not a lover but an enemy.
Her father's voice—once strong, once proud—was shaking.
"I just need more time," he pleaded. "I swear it. One last chance."
Time was something Luca Moretti never gave.
The men who came to collect spoke softly, politely even. That was what terrified her most. No raised voices. No threats. Just inevitability.
"Time ran out months ago," one of them said calmly. "The interest alone is crushing you. The Black King has been…patient."
Patient.
Elena clenched her fists. Her father had borrowed money when his business failed, when desperation had hollowed him out and pride had driven him to dangerous places. Luca Moretti's name had been whispered then too, like a forbidden prayer, Power, Protection. A way out.
There was never a way out.
She stepped into the doorway before she could stop herself. "How much?" she demanded. "How much does he want?"
The men turned. Their eyes lingered on her longer than they should have.
All of a suden he walked towards me and fear greaped me, He looked at me indifferently.
" so you are the one", I was confused....
this when realization strucked me that he was the one, all of a sudden i couldn't breath, then i gasped for air.
A soft tendered lips, scented like strawberry suddenly caresd the back of my neck, all i could see was me extracting this juicy lips with my mouth.
Then he wispered into my ears with his deep musculine voice that took my soul from my body, his voice was like that of an angel, that enchanted my spirit.
He said " you mine" the full room went dark, i know i could picture my marriage already with the ruthless mafia.
"I asked what I can offer", He said....
"More than money," one said.
Her father's shoulders sagged, the weight of his sins finally crushing him. He couldn't meet her eyes. That hurt more than anything else.
"Elena…" he began.
She understood then. Truly understood.
The debt wasn't numbers on paper. It was leverage, Control. A reminder that Luca Moretti didn't collect money—he collected people.
"You can't," she said, her voice breaking for the first time. "You can't give me away."
Her father knelt in front of her, hands trembling as he reached for her face. "I didn't know," he whispered. "I didn't think it would come to this."
But it always did.
That night, Elena didn't sleep. She packed slowly, mechanically, her mind numb. Each folded dress felt like a goodbye to the life she knew. Every breath felt stolen.
When the car came for her, black and silent, she walked out without looking back. Pride was the only thing she had left.
The estate loomed like a fortress when she arrived—cold, massive, impenetrable. This was where debts came to die.
Inside, Luca Moretti waited.
He read the file once more before she entered. Russo Failed businessman, Gambling, Bad investments, Poor choices, Weakness. Luca felt nothing for the man. He felt…curiosity about the daughter.
When she stepped into the room, defiant despite the fear rolling off her in waves, something shifted.
This was not a woman begging for mercy.
This was a woman forced into sacrifice.
"Your father owes me a great deal," Luca said calmly, watching her reaction.
"I know," Elena replied. "That's why I'm here."
He studied her closely. She was composed, but her eyes betrayed exhaustion and fury. Not fear. Never fear.
"You understand what the debt requires?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, swallowing. "My life. My name. My freedom."
Silence stretched between them.
"Marriage," he corrected.
Her laugh was sharp, humorless. "Call it whatever makes it easier."
Luca leaned back, considering her. "Debts must be paid," he said. "This one will secure your father's life. His protection. His peace."
"And mine?" she asked.
He held her gaze. "You will belong to my world."
Belong…..
The word wrapped around her like chains.
She nodded once. "Then the debt is paid."
Not with money.
Not with blood.
But with a woman who would change everything.
As she turned away, Luca realized something dangerous.
The debt had bought him more than leverage.
It had brought him Elena Russo.
And debts like this were never truly settled.