Contracted To The Mafia Prince

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."