Chapter 2 Coronation

Marissa leaned back in the salon chair, her eyes shut as warm water cascaded over her scalp. For a moment, it was almost peaceful - almost enough to drown out the storm her life had become.

Debt.

That word had eaten through her dreams like fire on silk. Every fake smile, every shopping spree, every lie she'd told herself about marrying Diego for love... all burnt to ash. She had thought she'd live in luxury. She had thought he would provide. But look where she was now - broke, frustrated, and in danger. Serious danger.

She exhaled slowly, trying to relax. The hands in her hair moved in steady circles. Then-

"Have you heard about the coronation?" one woman whispered excitedly from a nearby seat.

Marissa's eyes snapped open.

"What did you just say?" she asked, lifting her head slightly.

The three women looked at her. One of them smiled, eyes bright with gossip. "The coronation. Of the Godfather."

"The new Mafia king," another added.

"I heard Damien Castellano will be crowned." The third on added.

Marissa sat up straighter. "Damien Castellano!!" she muttered under her breath.

Here, in this city, the underworld didn't just rule - it owned everything. Ever since Godfather

Aleric Castellano died, the entire city had held its breath, waiting for the next shadow to take the throne.

And now... it was happening.

Damien Castellano was to be crowned.

"When?" Marissa asked, her voice tight.

"Tomorrow," one of the women said.

Marissa blinked. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes. Out of nowhere," the woman continued, lowering her voice. "I think the underworld rulers are tired of waiting. It's been too long."

The others nodded, murmuring in agreement.

"That's why I'm here," one said with a giggle. "I want to look my best. Tomorrow, the air will smell like wealth."

Marissa forced a smile as they laughed among themselves, but her mind was already racing.

Wealth... power... opportunity.

She didn't have a dress worthy of that kind of event. Not one that screamed money.

But then-her smirk returned.

An idea flashed through her mind like lightning.

And this time, she was going to make sure she'd get out of this mess.

No matter the cost.

Marissa's smirk deepened. She leaned in, casually tossing her damp hair over her shoulder.

"By the way," she said with a curious smile, "do they still... I mean, is there still some kind of maid selling tradition during the coronation?"

One of the women chuckled knowingly.

"You mean the auctioning?"

Marissa gave a nervous laugh. "Yes-exactly. Auctioning."

Another woman jumped in, eyes gleaming with gossip.

"Oh, yes. That still happens. They auction off maids to serve the new Godfather. It's part of the celebration."

"And it's not just that," a third one added, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. "Wealthy mafia lords and businessmen compete to buy the most expensive gift for the new king. Most times, the auctioned maids become the prized gifts."

One of them leaned back, shaking her head. "I always wonder... who gets to enjoy the money those maids are sold for?"

Another woman answered, "It goes straight to the one who brought the maid. That's their reward. The Godfather gets the maid, and the seller walks away with the wealth."

Marissa's heart thudded. Her lips curled slowly into a greedy grin as her mind raced. She shot up from the chair, nearly knocking over the bowl of water.

She tossed some money onto the counter. "I suddenly remembered I have somewhere to be."

And with that, she stormed out of the salon, her heels clicking with purpose.

**

**

**

Marissa stormed through the front door, her heels clicking furiously on the wooden floor. Her expression was unreadable - a mix of excitement and calculation dancing in her eyes. She didn't even bother acknowledging Isabella, who was humming quietly in the kitchen while stirring a steaming pot of stew.

"Diego," Marissa called, her voice sharp and urgent. "Come upstairs. Now."

Diego, seated silently on the couch with his hands folded, glanced toward the kitchen before rising with a weary sigh. The last time she called him like that, it didn't end well.

"What is it this time?" he muttered under his breath as he followed her up the stairs and into their room.

The door clicked shut behind them.

"What now, Marissa?" Diego asked, already rubbing his temples.

Marissa didn't waste time. She stepped closer, lowering her voice like she was sharing something sacred. "I have an idea. A way out of all this debt."

Diego's brow furrowed. "What kind of idea?"

"I found a solution," Marissa said quickly. "A real one this time. But you have to agree to it before I tell you."

Diego sighed. "Another of your brilliant ideas? After selling our house and business, what's even left?"

She let out a bitter laugh. "Not what-who."

She leaned in. "There's going to be an auction tomorrow. At the coronation."

His eyes narrowed with confusion. "Coronation? What kind of-?"

"I overheard some women at the salon. The coronation of Damien Castellano as the new Godfather is tomorrow, and there'll be an auction of maids. Men from the underworld, from powerful families, bidding fortunes to impress the new Mafia king. This is our chance."

"Damien Castellano as the Godfather?" Diego muttered to himself.

He narrowed his eyes, still not getting it. "Our chance for what?" he asked.

"Maids," she whispered. "They auction girls to serve in the Mafia circles. If we put someone up... and the right person bids..." she trailed off, watching his face closely.

Diego's stomach sank. "Marissa... what are you suggesting?"

Marissa folded her arms. "It's the only way we'll make enough money fast. Whoever owns the girl gets the money. That could clear half our debts in a day."

Diego took a shaky step back. "You want to sell a person?"

"It's not selling," she insisted, waving her hand dismissively. "It's more like... offering her a chance. To serve the most powerful man in the city."

Diego's voice dropped. "Who, Marissa? Who do you want to put up?"

Marissa didn't answer at first. She just gave him a long, meaningful look.

He stared at her, confused for a moment. But as the realization dawned on him, his eyes widened in horror. "No. No, Marissa. Not Isabella."

"Why not?" she snapped. "You said you'd do anything to fix this! You already sold everything else. This girl does nothing but eat, sleep, and cry. Let her be useful for once."

"We don't have a choice, Diego. You know that."