Chapter 5 Aria's POV

The scent of sizzling onions and garlic filled the air, mingling with the warm sound of laughter that echoed from the kitchen. For the first time in days, I allowed myself to relax, just a little. Laura was slicing tomatoes beside me, her face glowing under the dim yellow light above the stove, and I couldn't help but smile as we talked about our experience at the club we went to for her 21st birthday six months ago.

She was also teasing me about the way I chopped vegetables like I was in a knife fight.

"If this whole personal-assistant-slash-barista hustle doesn't work out," she grinned, nudging my elbow, "you could definitely make it as a sous chef with all that aggression."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "If this kitchen had a swear jar, I'd have already bought us both a getaway to France."

Laura laughed, a sound that always felt like sunlight. Her presence grounded me, reminded me of who I used to be before life turned into this endless loop of fear and obligation. Being with her was a brief return to normalcy. I needed that tonight.

"You've looked a little lighter the last hour," she said softly, placing the tomato slices into the sizzling pan. "Almost like you forgot about everything."

I didn't answer right away. How could I? The weight of my father's gambling debt still pressed heavily against my chest. Seven hundred thousand dollars. That number haunted my dreams. Every job I took, every item I sold, every favor I begged for barely made a dent. I was nowhere close.

And my father wasn't even trying. Still placing bets like he was chasing some impossible win that would make everything okay.

"I didn't forget," I murmured, stirring the pot. "I'm just pretending really hard tonight."

Laura placed a hand gently over mine. "He's your father, but he's also toxic. You can't keep burning yourself just to keep him warm."

I wanted to respond, but the front door slammed shut before I could. The sound tore through the quiet hum of our evening like a shotgun blast.

We both stilled. I could hear heavy footsteps and uneven breathing. My stomach twisted.

"Dad?" I called out, wiping my hands on a towel as I moved into the hallway.

He appeared seconds later. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, sweat staining the collar. His face was pale, eyes wide and bloodshot. He looked like a man who had seen a ghost-or worse.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice cautious. "Are you okay?"

He didn't answer immediately. He stumbled toward the kitchen like he didn't hear me, plopping down on the old wooden chair like his legs had stopped working.

Laura stood near the counter, frozen.

"Dad, say something." My voice was sharper now.

He swallowed hard. "I... I went to see the man I owed."

My breath caught in my throat.

Luciano De Rossi.

My fingers curled into fists. "Why would you go to him? What were you thinking?"

His eyes darted to Laura, then back to me. "He sent his men to bring me to him. I didn't have a choice."

My pulse raced. "And? What happened? Did he hurt you?"

Silence.

He looked away.

"Dad-"

"I gave him something."

The room spun.

Laura's eyes widened. She took a cautious step forward. "What do you mean, Vicenzo? What did you give him?"

He couldn't look at me. "You."

I laughed.

A sharp, broken, disbelieving laugh that echoed through the kitchen like a scream.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "No. You didn't. You didn't do that."

His hands trembled. "It was the only way. He said he wouldn't kill me if-"

"So you gave me up? Like I'm... like I'm some pawn on a chessboard you could just hand over?"

I couldn't breathe. My lungs seized, my vision blurred.

"Aria, listen to me-"

"No, you listen to me!" I shouted, my voice raw. Laura flinched beside me. "You've ruined everything. You've gambled away money, time, and respect. But this-this is a new level of betrayal. How could you?!"

His eyes were bloodshot, pleading. "He's a powerful man. I had no choice-"

"You always have a choice! You just never choose me."

Tears burned down my cheeks, hot and fast. I backed away from him like he was a stranger.

"Aria, please-"

"Don't. Don't say my name like you care."

I turned and bolted, flinging the back door open. Cold air hit my face like a slap as I ran down the porch and across the alley into the open street.

Laura's footsteps pounded behind me. "Aria, wait!"

But I didn't. I need air and space. I need to get away from that house, and that man.

I stopped by the old bus bench near the corner store, doubled over and gasped. Laura caught up seconds later.

"Aria-"

"He sold me," I choked out. "He sold me."

Laura sat beside me, pulling me into a hug. I clung to her like a drowning girl.

"We'll figure something out," she whispered. "We always do."

But I didn't believe her.

Because this time, the devil himself has my name written on his ledger.