Chapter Five – The Offer

MALIA

He didn’t speak as he approached the man I could only assume to be the Don. He bent slightly at the waist, leaned close, and whispered something directly into the older man's ear. Whatever it was, it pulled the air tight around us like a wire. The silence that followed was too sharp to be accidental.

The Don didn’t respond immediately. Then, a low chuckle rose from his chest. It wasn’t a laugh born from humor or even satisfaction. It was deeper than that—darker. The kind of laugh that crept under your skin and stayed there.

“Marcello,” the Don said with relish, drawing out the name like it was something sweet on his tongue.

The sound of it made my stomach twist. The name, that smile—it all felt wrong. His expression shifted into something that might have been called a smile in another life, but here, in this place, under this light—it looked like something feral. Something ancient and dangerous that belonged in another century.

Whatever the guy from earlier had suggested, it wasn’t going to be good. At least I couldn’t imagine it could be.

The Don tapped his cane once, the sharp crack slicing through the still air. Every sound that followed—every breath, every shudder—felt like it echoed off the walls twice as loud.

“You have just been given a way out of all this misery, Owen Williams,” he said, his voice dipping into that unsettling syrupy tone that made me hate him instantly. “And I’m more than certain it’s a price you will be willing—no, eager—to pay.”

My father’s head jerked up. His face contorted in pure, naked panic.

“Wha–what is it?” he asked, his voice trembling, cracking like a window about to break. “I–I’ll do anything. Anything… just please… make it stop.”

I bit down so hard on my lip I tasted blood again, but even that pain felt dull compared to the storm breaking inside my chest. He would say anything. Promise anything. But what was left for him to offer?

And then the man—Marcello—turned.

His eyes met mine.

Through the shadows. Through the distance. Through everything.

He looked straight at the place I had hidden. Not by accident. Not because of some sound or movement. But because he knew. He had always known.

Somehow, he had seen me even when I thought I was invisible.

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

And then the Don smiled wider.

I will never forget that smile. The way his teeth caught the light. The way it curved like a blade.

“Your daughter,” he said.

The words hit harder than a gunshot. My entire body went still. My brain couldn’t catch up with the sudden, brutal shift of the moment. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t blink.

All I could do was listen.

He leaned forward, both hands braced on his cane as he lowered his voice into something more intimate—more cruel.

“Give me your daughter, Owen. Bind her to my son, Blaine—as his future wife. And just like that… your debt vanishes.”

Everything stopped.

The sound of my heart pounding drowned out the rest of the world. I felt the room fall away, piece by piece, until all that remained was the ringing in my ears and the burn behind my eyes.

Me? Why did they want me?

It made no sense. I was just a girl. A girl with no status, no wealth, no real connections. I was seventeen. Still technically a child. Why would someone like Blaine DeCavalcante —the Mafias Dons son— want me?

I tried to make sense of it, to hold onto some thread of logic, but the room spun beneath me. And when I looked at my father, I saw nothing of the man I used to know. He was a ruin now. A wreck. A trembling shell. Whatever strength he had once possessed had been shattered beneath the weight of his debts and the fists of men like these.

He wouldn’t say yes. I could see it already in the way his mouth opened and closed, in the panic behind his eyes. He wouldn’t offer me—not even now. Because some lines, even the weakest men don’t cross.

Which meant I had to.

Before the Don changed his mind, or before my father made it worse and I lost whatever leverage I still had.

“What–what...?” my father stammered, blinking wildly, voice cracking.

The Don’s face hardened. “Or,” he said, letting the silence hang for a breath, “refuse. And I’ll beat you until there’s not a bone left unbroken.”

That silence—the one that followed his words—was worse than any scream.

My father froze. Every part of him locked up like his body couldn’t handle the choice being laid in front of him. And in that moment, I knew.

There was no saving him.

There was only surviving what came next.

I felt it in my gut—that quiet, awful certainty. If I stayed hidden, if I waited for him to speak, it would spiral. The Don would lose patience. My father would try to barter. They would hurt him more. They would kill him. And maybe me, too. Or worse—maybe they’d offer me to someone else.

So I stepped out.

The light caught me immediately, exposing every raw inch of me. I walked slowly, letting each footstep echo, not letting them see how badly I was shaking.

I didn’t look at my father or the Don.

Instead I looked only at him—Marcello and the unreadable look in his eyes.

“I’ll do it,” I said.

And in that instant, every eye in the room turned to me.

The Don’s expression didn’t change. His smile only deepened.

Marcello watched me with something unreadable in his gaze. Not shock. Not victory.

Something else.

I couldn’t place it.

The factory had gone quiet. Even my father could barely form the shape of my name.

I stood taller. Or at least tried to.

“I’ll do it,” I repeated. “I’ll marry him. Just stop hurting my father.”

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter