The first rule about the Moretti family was simple, if they noticed you, it was already too late.
I learned that rule the night my father didn't come home.
The clock on the wall read 11:47 p.m. when the knock came, three sharp raps, slow and deliberate, like whoever stood outside wasn't asking to be let in. They were announcing themselves.
My mother froze mid-step.
My heart sank.
We weren't expecting anyone.
The apartment felt smaller suddenly. The peeling paint, the flickering bulb in the hallway, the silence thick enough to choke on. I moved toward the door anyway, because fear had always taught me one thing, waiting never made it better.
When I opened it, I didn't see a monster.
I saw a man.
Tall. Impossibly calm. Dressed in black like it was stitched into his skin. His presence filled the doorway, not because he was loud, but because he was certain. Dark eyes met mine, unreadable, sharp, assessing, like I was a problem he'd already solved.
"Is your father home?" he asked.
His voice was low, controlled. Dangerous in the way still water is dangerous.
My throat tightened. "No."
He nodded once, as if he'd expected that answer. As if this moment had been scheduled.
Behind him, two other men waited. Silent. Watching.
"Then you'll do," he said.
The words didn't register at first.
"I'm sorry, what?!!"
He stepped inside without permission. The air changed when he did. My mother gasped behind me.
"My name is Luca Moretti," he said, removing his gloves slowly. "Your father owes my family a considerable amount of money."
I knew that name.
Everyone did.
The Morettis weren't just criminals, they were law. Judges disappeared when they spoke. Police looked away. People prayed they would never cross paths with them.
My knees threatened to give out.
"He said he'd pay," my mother whispered. "Please. He promised..."
Luca turned to her then, his gaze colder. "Men who can't keep promises don't get second chances."
Silence fell.
Then his eyes returned to me.
"You have two options," he said. "Your father returns within forty-eight hours with the money."
My chest ached. "And if he doesn't?"
A pause.
"Then the debt transfers."
"To whom?" I asked, even though I already knew.
His lips curved, not into a smile, but something far more terrifying.
"To you."
My breath shattered.
"I, I don't have that kind of money."
"I know."
The way he said it told me everything.
"This isn't about money anymore," Luca continued calmly. "It's about value."
I shook my head. "I don't understand."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping.
"You will."
As he turned to leave, his words followed me like a sentence being passed.
"Forty-eight hours, Bella. After that...you belong to me."
The door closed.
And just like that, my life stopped being mine.