Violet's heart pounded as she raced up the steps to her apartment, keys clutched tightly in her shaking hand. Something was very wrong. She could feel it in her bones.

She burst through the door, coming to a halt at the sight of her trashed living room. The sofa was overturned, cushions slashed open. Broken glass from shattered picture frames littered the carpet. It looked like a tornado had torn through the place.

"Michael?" Violet called out, fear crawling up her throat. "Mike, where are you?"

No response. The apartment was dead silent.

Violet rushed to his bedroom and opened the door. The room was equally destroyed - clothes scattered everywhere, drawers opened, a hole punched through the wall.

But no sign of Michael.

Panic rising, Violet ran back to the living room and searched for some clue as to what had happened. That's when she spotted the note taped to the wall, fluttering in the breeze from the shattered window.

With trembling fingers, Violet tore it down and read the words:

"Hey Vee,

I'm in deep shit. I owe some bad people a bunch of money. They came by to collect but I wasn't here. You need to pay them or they're going to hurt me bad.

It's $500,000. I know that sounds crazy but I swear I'll pay you back every penny. You can borrow the money from our parents or take out a loan or whatever. Just please get the cash and bring it to this address by 8pm tomorrow.

Don't tell Mom and Dad. I'll explain everything later. Just help me this one time and I swear I'll make it up to you.

Love you,

Mike"

The note fell from Violet's hands as her knees gave out. She collapsed onto the ruined couch, mind reeling. Five hundred thousand dollars? Where in the world was she going to get that kind of money?

Violet was a junior in college, working part-time as a barista to afford tuition. Her parents were academics who could barely afford to help her pay rent. There was no way...

Unless...

An awful, sinking realization hit Violet like a punch to the gut. She knew what this was about. Michael had a secret gambling addiction, always begging her to spot him money. She'd thought he was getting better...

Staggering to her feet, Violet grabbed her phone with shaking hands and pulled up her banking app. She had $2,500 in her savings account— a small sum, but better than nothing.

At least it was a start. Violet could borrow more money from her roommates and friends. Maybe they could put together enough for a decent size of the debt...

She would have to figure something out. She couldn't let those people hurt Michael. He was her little brother— she had to protect him.

With grim determination, Violet grabbed her bag and started stuffing it with cash from her piggy bank, her jewelry box, even the small amount she had kept away for next semester's books. Every little bit would help.

By the time 8pm rolled around, Violet had managed to scrape together $22,000 in cash— a mixture of her own savings, money from friends and family, and some credit card advances she was sure she would live to regret.

But it would have to be enough. She couldn't delay any longer or those thugs might really hurt Michael.

Tying her hair back in a ponytail, Violet slung the heavy bag over her shoulder and headed out into the night. The address on the note led to a fancy club downtown, one of those exclusive luxury clubs with doorman and valet parking.

Violet took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she walked through the doors. The lobby was all filled with expensive things— not at all what she'd expected for a mob hideout.

The bartender looked up from his desk as she approached, raising an eyebrow at her disheveled appearance and heavy bag.

"Can I help you, miss?" he asked politely.

"I'm here to see...uh..." Violet faltered. She realized she didn't even know who she was supposed to meet.

The bartender's smile turned patronizing. "Is this a surprise visit? We do ask for at least 24 hours notice for guests."

"It's not that, I just — "

Violet was cut off by the ping of the elevator.

The doors slid open and a tall, dark-haired man stepped out. He wore a suit that hugged his muscular frame. His face was all sharp angles and hard lines, with piercing grey eyes that seemed to see right through her.

"Miss Evans?" he said, voice smooth as silk. "I'm Nico Rossi, Mr. Moretti's consigliere. He's been expecting you."

Consigliere. That was a mafia term, wasn't it? Oh God.

Violet swallowed hard as Nico Rossi approached, taking in her appearance with an unreadable expression.

"Yes, that's me," she managed to say. "I have the money to pay off my brother's debt."

Nico raised an eyebrow at that but simply gestured towards the elevators. "Right this way then."

He led her inside and punched a button for the top floor. As the doors closed, Violet found herself hyper-aware of his presence— the scent of his cologne, the heat radiating off his body, the way he seemed to suppress her.

Nico caught her looking at him and smirked. "Don't worry, miss. Mr. Moretti doesn't bite...unless you ask nicely."

Violet's face flushed hot with embarrassment and a confusing twinge of something else. She quickly looked away, staring at the numbers ticking upwards.

They rode in silence until they reached the penthouse suite. Nico stepped out and held the door open for her, ushering Violet inside with a hand on the small of her back.

The place was filled with an air of luxury.

And there, seated at a desk, was the man she assumed must be Salvatore Moretti himself.

He was handsome in an older, distinguished way — silver and black hair, chiseled features, broad shoulders. But his dark eyes held a ruthless gaze.

"Ah, Miss Evans," he said, voice like gravel. "Right on time."

Violet stumbled forward, dumping her heavy duffel bag on his desk with a thud.

"That's everything I could get," she said breathlessly. "Twenty-two thousand dollars. It's not much but I promise I can get more if you give me some time."

Salvatore unzipped the bag and peered inside, thumbing through the stacks of bills.

"22 grand," he mused, lips curling into a smirk. "You expect me to forgive your brother's debt with this small amount? I'm afraid you've severely miscalculated."

Violet's blood ran cold. "What? But I thought— "

"Your brother owes me half a million dollars," Sal said coldly. "And while I appreciate your efforts here..." He gestured dismissively at the bag. "This is barely enough for a few nights' entertainment."

"But...I don't have more," Violet stammered, mind racing desperately. "Please, you have to understand! This is all I could get in such short notice."

Sal pushed back from his desk and stood to his full imposing height. He moved around the desk with predatory grace, looming over Violet until she was forced to crane her neck back to look up at him.

"You still don't understand," he said, voice low and dangerous. "Your brother has made a deal with me. And now..."

He reached out and gripped Violet's chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

"...the debt has been transferred to you."