In the Name of Family

*BELLA'S POV*

The kitchen was alive with the sounds of sizzling pans and clattering dishes. The savory aroma of garlic and basil filled the air, mixing with the comforting scent of freshly baked bread. It was another busy night at Rossi's, our family's beloved but struggling Italian restaurant. I moved quickly, my hands a blur as I plated the last order of the night.

Bella, table five needs more bread,” Maria, our waitress, called out over the noise.

Coming right up,” I replied, grabbing a basket and filling it with warm rolls. As I handed it off to her, my father walked in. His face looked more lined than usual, his shoulders slumped.

Bella,” he said softly, a hint of desperation in his voice. “We need to talk.”

I glanced at him, noting the deep worry in his eyes. “Can it wait, Papa? I need to finish up here.”

It can't,” he insisted, his voice trembling slightly. “It's important.”

I sighed, nodding. I handed off the last plate to Maria and followed my father into the office. The small space was cluttered with papers, the faint smell of old wood lingering in the air. My father closed the door behind us and turned to face me, his eyes filled with fear and guilt.

“Bella, we’re in trouble. The restaurant...it’s worse than I’ve let on.”

My heart sank. “How bad?”

He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “We're deep in debt. If we don't do something, we'll lose everything.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. “What can we do?”

He hesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Bella, there's something I need to tell you. Something I've been hiding.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. “What is it, Papa?”

“I...I've been gambling. For years. And now, the debts have caught up with me.”

I stared at him, stunned. “Gambling? Why didn't you tell me?”

''I thought I could handle it, that I could win it back. But it’s gotten out of control.” His voice broke, and he looked at me with pleading eyes. “Bella, the mafia is involved. They're threatening to take over the restaurant if we don't pay.”

My knees felt weak, and I sank into the nearest chair. “How much do we owe?”

Hundreds of thousands,” he whispered. “I've been trying to keep it from you, trying to protect you. But now they're demanding payment, and we don't have the money.”

I felt a surge of anger and fear. “Why, Papa? Why didn't you come to me sooner?”

I was ashamed,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “I didn't want you to know what I had done. I thought I could fix it.”

My father sank into the chair opposite me, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his confession. The office felt smaller, the walls closing in as the reality of our situation settled over me.

''We can't let Mama find out,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Her heart...it’s too fragile. She wouldn’t be able to handle the stress.”

I nodded, my mind racing. “We'll keep it between us. But we need a plan, Papa. We need to figure out how to get the money.”

“I've been thinking,” he said, wiping a tear from his cheek. “We could try to get a loan, maybe ask some friends for help...”

“We’ve already borrowed so much,” I said, shaking my head. “And who would lend us more? We need something more concrete.”

He sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “I don't know, Bella. I'm at my wits' end.”

I leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling as if the answers might be written there. The restaurant was everything to us, the heart of our family. I couldn't bear the thought of losing it, of seeing my parents broken by this.

“We'll figure something out,” I said finally, trying to inject some confidence into my voice. “We have to.”

My father looked at me with a mix of hope and despair. “I'm so sorry, Bella. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

I reached across the desk and took his hand. “We'll get through this, Papa. We always do.”

He squeezed my hand, his eyes glistening with tears. “Thank you, Bella. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

We sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of our predicament hanging heavily in the air. The sounds of the restaurant bustling outside seemed distant, like a world away from the turmoil we were facing.

“I'll start looking into our options,” I said, standing up. “We'll find a way to keep the restaurant.”

My father nodded, his expression weary but grateful. “I'll do whatever it takes, Bella. I promise.”

As I left the office and returned to the kitchen, the familiar sounds and smells provided a small comfort. Maria gave me a questioning look, but I forced a smile and nodded, indicating that everything was fine. At least, for now.

That night, as I locked up the restaurant and headed home, my mind was still racing. The thought of the mafia taking over our restaurant was terrifying. We needed a solution, and fast. But for now, all I could do was keep moving forward and hope that an answer would present itself.

When I got home, my mother was already asleep, her breathing steady and peaceful. I stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her, and felt a pang of guilt. She had no idea of the storm brewing around us, and I was determined to keep it that way. I couldn't let this burden fall on her shoulders.

I slipped into my room, closing the door quietly behind me. As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts returned to my father’s confession. Gambling. Debts. The mafia. It all felt surreal, like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

But this was real, and we had to face it. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. We would find a way to save the restaurant. We had to. For our family. For our future.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to relax. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but I was ready to face them. We were Rossi's, and we didn't give up easily.