Chapter 2 - Fifty Thousand Reasons
The transition from the freezing, flour-dusted storage room to Bellarosa’s main dining room felt like stepping into an execution chamber.
Red velvet booths lined the walls, lit by dim, amber sconces that cast long, dramatic shadows across the checkered floor. But the romantic Italian atmosphere had been thoroughly obliterated. Regina was pressed flat against the mahogany hostess stand, her face drained of all makeup and color, her chest heaving as she stared in abject horror at the two armed men blocking the front exit.
Standing beside her was a heavy-set man in a cheap polyester suit—Tony. One of his cheeks was already swelling purplish-blue where one of Moretti’s guards had apparently introduced him to a doorframe.
When Michael stepped out of the hallway with Zach holding my hand, the entire room seemed to hold its breath.
“M-Mr. Moretti,” Regina stammered, her voice cracking into a pathetic squeak as she recognized the man who owned half the borough. She scrambled forward, her manicured fingers clawing at the air. “I—I didn't know this was your establishment! We were just looking for the girl. She’s family, you see, she owes—she owes fifty thousand dollars in outstanding debts—!”
Michael walked past her as if she were a piece of stray trash on the sidewalk. He didn't look at her, didn't acknowledge her existence, pulling out a chair at the center table and sitting down with slow, terrifying grace.
Zach refused to let go of my hand, pulling me right down onto the velvet booth seat beside him.
Tony swallowed hard, wiping sweat from his forehead with a stained handkerchief. “Listen, Mr. Moretti, we don't want no trouble with the family. The girl’s stepmother signed a contract. Fifty grand. We pay the debt, we take her off your hands, simple business—”
“Business,” Michael repeated the word softly. He picked up a silver water goblet, turning it slowly between his long fingers.
“Yes, sir,” Tony nodded eagerly, misinterpreting the silence as agreement. “Just a simple transaction—”
“Let me tell you about transactions, Tony,” Michael interrupted, his voice cutting through the restaurant like a sheet of plate glass.
He set the goblet down. The tiny clink sounded like a gunshot in the dead silence.
“Fifty thousand dollars,” Michael continued, his slate-gray eyes lifting to pin Tony to the spot. “That’s what you valued Miss Vance’s life at. A fifty-thousand-dollar bounty placed by a desperate woman who couldn't balance her own ledger, collected by low-tier street thugs who don't know the difference between business and a kidnapping charge.”
Regina let out a choked sob, falling to her knees near the edge of our table. “Mr. Moretti, please! She’s an ungrateful orphan! She belongs to us! You can’t interfere with family matters—!”
“Family?” Michael tilted his head, his gaze shifting slowly to Regina. The look in his eyes made my blood run cold. “My son just informed me that Miss Vance is engaged to be married.”
The entire dining room went dead silent. Even Tony looked like he had misheard his own language.
“Engaged… to a child?” Regina blurted out, panic entirely overriding her common sense.
“Engaged to an Ashford,” Michael corrected quietly, his voice dropping an octave. “And last I checked, nobody puts a price tag on an Ashford, and nobody touches a Moretti’s future family member inside the Five Boroughs and lives to explain it to the coroner.”
Michael raised his hand slightly.
The two guards flanking the door didn't wait for instructions. They moved with terrifying speed, grabbing Tony and his associate by the collars of their cheap suits and dragging them toward the heavy oak exit doors before they could even scream.
Regina opened her mouth to beg, but Michael didn't even give her the satisfaction of looking at her.
“Take her outside,” Michael instructed his men without turning around. “Tell her the debt is paid in full. In exchange, if she ever comes within five miles of Aurora again, she won't have to worry about gambling debts anymore, because she won't have a tongue left to complain with.”
As Regina was hauled away, kicking and screaming obscenely into the New York night, the restaurant door slammed shut, sealing us in a suffocating bubble of absolute power.
Michael turned his gaze slowly back toward me. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were burning with an intensity that made my knees weak.
May you like
“Well, Miss Vance,” Michael said, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together. “Since you’ve apparently accepted my son’s proposal, I suppose we need to discuss the wedding arrangements.”
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