Contracted to the Mafia Don

Eliza's POV

I couldn't breathe... The letters lay in front of me, their harsh words etched into the paper as if mocking my every breath. My hands trembled as I gripped the edges, unwilling to accept the truth. My father's reckless behavior had finally caught up to us. But this- this was more than I ever expected.

Damien Viera.

The name burned in my mind. The whispers I had heard about him over the years-the ruthless mafia boss who ruled the city like a tyrant-sounded like bad rumors at first. But these letters... they weren't rumors. They were a cold, unforgiving reality.

A million dollars. My father owed him a million dollars, and from the looks of these letters, there was no way to escape. My father had always promised me things would get better, that he'd stop gambling, that he'd turn things around. But those promises were as empty as his drunken rants.

I set the letters down slowly, the weight of them pressing down on my chest. I closed my eyes, trying to calm the storm inside me, but the anxiety was too overwhelming. How could I fix this? How could I make this go away?

The front door creaked open, and I didn't need to look up to know it was him. I could hear the unsteady footsteps, the smell of alcohol that clung to him like a second skin. My father.

"Eliza!" His voice echoed in the small apartment, frantic. "Eliza, you need to listen to me!"

I stood up slowly, the floor feeling like it was swaying beneath me. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to know. But I knew it was inevitable.

I turned to face him. His face was pale, sweat dripping down his forehead. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, filled with something far worse than the usual drunken haze-fear.

"What's going on, Dad?" I asked, though my heart already knew.

He took a shaky breath. "I've... I've done something bad, Eliza. Worse than before."

His hands shook as he fumbled with his words, barely managing to meet my gaze. "There's a man... a man I owe. A lot of money. A million dollars."

The world around me spun, and I grabbed the edge of the counter to steady myself. "A million?" I whispered, barely able to get the words out.

My mind raced, my chest tightening as the reality of the situation settled in. "Who? Who do you owe a million dollars to?"

"Damien Viera," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

The name hit me like a slap to the face. It was the last name I ever expected to hear. The very mention of it sent a chill down my spine. Damien Viera-the man who ran this city with an iron fist, whose name was whispered in fear by everyone from businessmen to criminals. The rumors of his brutality were endless.

"Damien Viera..." I whispered, the name tasting like poison on my tongue. "Dad... what did you do?"

He stepped forward, his face contorted with panic. "I thought I could win it back. I thought the gambling-if I just gambled one last time, I could win it back, but I lost it all. Now they're coming for you, Eliza. They want you."

The words didn't make sense, but the terror in his voice-his desperation-was enough to make my stomach twist.

Before I could react, I heard the sharp knock of a door slamming open, followed by heavy footsteps. Two men walked into the room, tall, imposing figures with cold eyes that sent a shiver down my spine. Their eyes locked onto me, and my blood ran cold.

"Eliza Carter?" one of the men asked. His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

I stood frozen, unable to respond. My heart thudded in my chest, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear.

"Who are you?" I finally managed, my voice shaky.

"We work for him," the second man said, his tone like gravel. "The boss wants to see you."

My father grabbed my arm, his grip tight, almost painful. "You have to go, Eliza. You don't understand. If you don't go with them, they'll-"

"Take me where?" I demanded, my voice rising in panic.

The first man stepped forward, his hand clamping onto my arm. "You don't have a choice. Get in the car."

"NO!" I yelled, trying to pull away, but the second man's grip was unyielding. Fear surged through me, drowning out all rational thought. "No, I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Eliza, please," my father begged, tears welling in his eyes. "You have to. Please."

I shook my head, backing away, but the men's grip tightened. There was no escape. My father's pleading voice was nothing more than a distant echo as they pulled me toward the door.

The car ride was a blur. My thoughts raced, my pulse pounding in my ears. The cold air from the open window did nothing to cool my burning skin. We drove for what felt like an eternity, the streets passing by in a blur of darkness and unfamiliarity.

Finally, we arrived at a tall, dark building that loomed in the night. My stomach churned as the reality of the situation hit me. This was it. This was where I would meet the man who held my father's fate in his hands-and mine.

The men didn't speak as they led me inside, their grip never loosening. I was ushered into a cold, lavish office, and then I saw him.

Damien Viera.

He was just as the rumors said-tall, with dark hair and an intimidating presence that made the room feel smaller. His gaze was sharp, calculating, and his very presence seemed to command authority.

"Eliza Carter," his voice was smooth, deep, and terrifyingly calm. "I've been waiting for you."

I couldn't speak. I couldn't even move. His eyes locked onto mine, and I felt the weight of his stare like a physical force. Every instinct in my body screamed for me to run, to escape, but my legs were frozen.

"Sit down." His voice was like velvet, smooth but carrying a dangerous edge.

I obeyed without thinking, sitting in the chair across from his desk, trying to steady my breath. My heart was racing, my chest tight with fear. This was the man who controlled everything. And now, my life-my very existence-was in his hands.

Damien leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. "I'm sure you're wondering why you're here, Eliza."

I swallowed hard, words catching in my throat. "I-I don't understand. Why me? Why take me?"

"You're here because of your father's debt," Damien said, his eyes never wavering. "But I'm a reasonable man. I offer you two choices."

I waited, my heart pounding, my breath shallow. I had to know what he wanted. What my choices were.

"You can marry me, Eliza," he continued, "and I'll clear your father's debt. Or..." He paused, his smile cold and dark. "You can die, and I'll take what's mine from your corpse."

I couldn't move. My stomach turned, and the room seemed to spin. This wasn't a choice. I couldn't marry him. But what other option did I have? My life- or my death.

---

Damien's POV

I watched her carefully, my eyes never leaving Eliza's face. Her fear was palpable, but there was something else beneath it. A fire. A resistance. It intrigued me.

She didn't flinch when I spoke, and that was unusual. Most people trembled at the sound of my voice, especially when I made my terms clear. But not her. She sat there, unmoving, her gaze sharp despite the obvious terror in her eyes.

I leaned forward slightly, watching her reactions carefully. "I'm sure you've heard of me, Eliza. I don't think I need to elaborate on the consequences of not following my terms."

Her eyes flickered, but she didn't speak. Good. Silence was power. It made her think.

"You have two choices," I repeated, watching the tension build in her shoulders. "Marry me, clear your father's debt, and live. Or you can die, and I'll collect what's mine from your lifeless body."

Her chest rose and fell rapidly with every breath. I could see the storm of thoughts behind her eyes. She wasn't foolish enough to refuse, not when death loomed over her.

But I wasn't interested in forcing her. Not yet. The idea of having her at my side-under my control-was something I was willing to wait for. The choice was hers... For now.

I could almost hear the thoughts turning over in her head, weighing the options. The clock was ticking, and I was waiting for her to decide.