EL’S P.O.V

“Tell her everything, old man,”

My voice came out boldly, my hands crossed together, folding themselves like I was timing them.

She was nothing like I had imagined. Not even close.

When I came to the Ronalds’ house, I didn't expect to meet a spoiled daughter of a guilty man, a girl born into comfort, and even worse, lies. But I'll confess to this fact: the moment my eyes found her, every thought I had before disappeared.

Firstly, I was supposed to capture her immediately after Damon signed the arranged marriage papers earlier, but somehow, looking at my soon-to-be bride-to-be, she's even more feminine than I imagined.

I'd been told her name was Adorable, and the name suited her even more.

My eyes met hers, my lips still positioned in an arc as I was watching the movie between a daughter and a sheep-clothed father. Her blonde hair was neatly packed behind her head, with just a few strands out of place.

Her purple gown hugged her curves perfectly, and it fitted her in a way that made it impossible not to look. It stopped just above her knees, showing her smooth, fair skin, and that caught my attention far longer than I intended. Everything about her was calm and composed, apart from the fact that she had scolded me earlier to leave her house. Somehow I liked it, and can't help but feel that she'll be tough, just the way I like my woman who happens to be a blood bait to be.

She was confused, and I could tell. I noticed how her brows drew together slightly, how her lips parted as if she wanted to ask something after she'd heard her father confirm what I had just said, but she didn’t know what. Her eyes kept moving, from me to her father, and from her father back to me.

“I got into something years ago.” Damon’s voice shook as he started to speak. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to. Adora, my daughter, please, you have to go with Elkana. He’s the mafia lord. If you don’t go… if you don’t go, either my life will be… I’ll either pay with my life or you pay with your life. Please, my child, I’m so sorry.”

I watched him the way a hunter watches a rabbit that’s just realized the trap is sprung. He was small in that moment, no bravado left, no suit of lies. Sweat stuck his shirt to his chest. He kept looking at his girl as if she could fix him, as if her eyes could erase the debts he’d buried in darkness, and that made me want to laugh.

I felt the muscle in my jaw tighten. My hand curled into a fist without meaning to. I could smell the fear on him; it was the kind that clung to anyone who had spent years taking what they wanted and thinking themselves clever. In that moment, the house felt smaller. It pressed on my lungs like the weight of a promise that must be kept. Damon was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Every apology was like a dirty cloth trying to hide its look. He had walked among decent people and fed on them until there was nothing left but explanations and excuses.

“Mafia rules,” I said slowly, my voice was low and flat, the kind of voice that did not ask for attention. It took it. “Blood for blood. Debts don’t die because a man prays for mercy. There is always a price.”

I could feel Adora’s eye on me, but I didn't care. She was the price for her father's sin, and that was final.

Damon looked up at me as if he’d expected something old to happen. But no. He got exactly what he deserved: a quiet, relentless, and inevitable punishment. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, searching for anything that would buy him a second he did not deserve. His eyes darted from me to his daughter, who stood right in front of him, now speechless.

My disgust was not only for him. It was for what he had done to his daughter that he had sold her like a ledger entry, like a problem to be balanced, such a selfish man. The thought of that, the thought of a father who traded his child to pay for his sins, it was sharper than any blade. It was petty and cowardly.

“Mafia collects what is owed,” I said. “If one of ours is taken, we collect in full. The rules are simple. Blood for blood. Debt for debt. You chose your path years ago, Damon. You must live with what you planted.”

He tried to speak again, but I cut him off with wide eyes. “Since you refuse to tell your daughter the crime you committed,” I said, my voice slow and steady, each word i said was dragging across the air like the pull of a trigger, “and why you’ve chosen to betray her instead of dying like a man, as the mafia laws demand, then let me do you the honors.”

Damon’s eyes widened. His lips trembled, and he reached a shaky hand toward me as if he could stop what was coming. He couldn’t.

I turned toward the table beside me and picked up the file. It was a black one, thick and stamped with the seal of my family. The weight of it felt right in my hand. I flipped it open, letting the papers breathe, then held up the top document for her to see.

“This,” I said, lifting the document higher, “This is a legal agreement signed by your father himself.”

I stepped closer, letting my shadow fall over her. “It’s an arranged marriage contract between you and me, Adora.” My tone dropped, quieter now, deadlier. “You are my wife. You are my bride. The debt your father chose to pay with your life.”

She blinked, her lips parted, and I knew for a fact that I'd convinced her enough. She tried to speak, but no sound came out