Prologue - Before the Debt Comes Due

Prologue

Sienna had always believed that rock bottom had a sound, some sharp, catastrophic crack that warned you life had officially split open.

But the truth was quieter.

Sometimes rock bottom was just a ringtone.

A shrill, persistent vibration cutting through the dark of a hospital hallway where everything smelled like bleach, fear, and hopelessness. She’d been sitting for hours and her knees drawn to her chest on a plastic chair, forehead pressed against the wall and when her phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number.

The same number that had called twice already.

A chill skated down her spine, but she ignored it. She couldn't afford to care about mystery callers at one in the morning. Not when her father was somewhere behind those double doors, hooked up to machines that beeped like dying stars.

Sienna pushed her palms into her eyes, exhaling slowly.

Just breathe. Don’t break. Not yet.

A door slammed open down the corridor. A nurse strode out, scanning the hall before calling out, “Family for Andrew Vale?”

Sienna bolted upright. “That’s me.”

The nurse nodded, expression softening in that way medical staff reserved for people already balancing on the edge. “You can come in. He’s awake now.”

Awake was generous.

Her father lay pale and bruised under the thin hospital blanket, tubes running into his arms, eyes glassy with shock. He looked smaller than she remembered and like the world had taken one good swing and he hadn’t recovered from the blow.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he rasped, forcing a smile.

It cracked her open anyway. “Dad… what happened?”

He swallowed hard, gaze darting away. “Just a misunderstanding.”

She stepped closer. “A misunderstanding doesn’t put someone in the ER. Tell me the truth.”

His breathing stuttered. “Sienna… I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

The unknown number called again.

She ignored it, sliding her phone into her pocket.

Her father shut his eyes like he couldn’t bear to watch her hear what came next. “It’s my fault. I thought, I thought I could double it. Win enough to pay off the first debt, then the second, and then—”

“Dad,” she whispered, stomach turning to ice, “what debt?”

His fingers twitched against the blanket. “Gambling debt.”

She closed her eyes. Of course. Of course it would be that. The thing he swore he’d left behind.

Her father looked at her with tears bright on his lashes. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far.”

“How far?” she forced out.

He hesitated. And that hesitation told her everything.

The phone vibrated again. Same number.

Her father flinched at the sound.

“Dad…” Sienna whispered. “Who do you owe?”

He turned his face toward the wall.

“Dad.”

His answer was barely a breath. “The Romanos.”

Her heart stopped.

Not just any crime family.

The Romanos.

The name people whispered when they wanted to talk about power without summoning death. The family that controlled half the city, the ports, the trafficked secrets, the money washing through every nightclub and casino. The kind of men who didn’t give second chances.

The kind of men who didn’t give bodies back.

Her phone rang again.

This time her father whispered, “Don’t answer.”

But she did.

A breath so smooth, controlled and spilled through the line.

“Miss Vale,” a man said, voice silk and knives. “I’m glad you finally picked up.”

Her chest tightened. “Who is this?”

“You know who this is.” A pause. “Your father borrowed money. A substantial amount. Money the Romanos expect to be paid.”

Her pulse pounded in her ears. “He can’t pay. He’s hurt, he’s in the hospital—”

“I’m aware,” the voice replied coolly.

Her blood turned cold. “You… you did this?”

Another pause. “Your father was given many warnings. He chose to ignore them.”

She glanced toward her father. His shoulders shook.

“Please,” she whispered, “he’s sick. He didn’t mean—”

“Intentions are irrelevant. Debts are paid, one way or another.”

“You’re heartless,” she choked.

“That has been said of us,” he replied, almost amused. Then his tone sharpened. “But you have one advantage your father does not."

Her breath caught. “What advantage?”

“You.”

Her skin prickled.

“You want payment,” she said slowly, “so come take it.”

There was a low chuckle, dark and knowing. “You have courage. That will either save you or destroy you.”

Then the call went dead.

The silence afterward tasted like blood.

Her father reached for her hand with trembling fingers. “Sienna… don’t. Don’t go to them. I’ll figure something out. I’ll—”

“You can’t even stand up,” she whispered, tears burning her eyes. “Dad… whatever you did, whatever you owe… they’re not going to let you walk away.”

He broke then.

Truly broke.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

She cupped his face. “Stop. It’s done. I’ll take care of it.”

“No,” he pleaded, gripping her wrist weakly. “You don’t understand what he is.”

“Who?”

“Luca Romano,” he whispered, voice shaking like the name itself was a knife. “He’s… he’s not like the others. He’s cruel. Calculated. He never forgets. He never forgives.”

Her heart thudded.

Luca Romano.

The Devil’s heir.

A man rumored to be as beautiful as he was lethal, a man who turned obedience into power, silence into loyalty, and disobedience into bodies.

“He’ll destroy you,” her father whispered. “Please don’t go.”

But what choice did she have?

If she didn’t face him, he would send men. If she didn’t speak for her father, he would die, slowly, painfully, publicly.

Sienna stood slowly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “Dad. Look at me.”

He forced himself to.

“I’m not going there to die,” she said, voice steady, surprising even herself. “I’m going to end this.”

“You don’t know what he’ll want.”

“Then I’ll find out,” she whispered.

The nurse peeked in. “He needs rest, miss.”

Sienna nodded.

Her father’s hand clung to hers until she gently pulled free.

In the hallway, she leaned against the wall, exhaling shakily. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, too bright, too cold. The hospital was empty at this hour, shadows stretching long across the tile floors.

Her phone buzzed one final time, this time a text.

From: BLOCKED

You have until midnight tomorrow, Miss Vale. Don’t make me come find you.

A tremor rolled through her.

Anger followed.

She walked outside into the night air, the sky heavy with city fog. The streetlights flickered like dying matches, reflecting off rain-slick asphalt. Her breath curled in front of her, small ghostly clouds.

Fear gnawed at her.

But something else rose with it.

Resolve.

If the Romanos wanted payment, they would get it.

But she would not bow.

Sienna lifted her chin, eyes hardening.

“If the Devil wants his due,” she whispered into the cold midnight air, “he can look me in the eye when he takes it.”

She didn’t know then that Luca Romano was already watching her.

That her decision had just written the first line of her damnation.

That the Devil didn’t just want payment,

He wanted her.

And he never lost what he claimed.