Nothing Left but a Blood Debt

Tears streamed down my face. In that filthy, foul-smelling warehouse, it felt as if I cried out a lifetime's worth of grief.

I don't know how much time passed before Marco returned with his men. This time, gunfire erupted between them and the thugs. The scene was intense, but I knew it was all a show, staged for my benefit.

Marco brandished his pistol, firing at the thugs while shouting, "Sienna, hold on! I'm coming to save you!"

I had no fight left. I let the thugs do their worst. To anyone else, the sight of Marco fighting so desperately would have looked like proof of his love. To me, it was just nauseating. The man who orchestrated my agony was now playing the part of my savior.

Frank couldn't bear to watch any longer. "We can't drag this out anymore, Marco. Sienna is barely holding on."

Before he could finish, Marco shot him a harsh glare, and Frank immediately fell silent.

I closed my eyes in despair, ready for death to take me.

In a daze, I relived the nightmare of my torture. I was on my knees, begging through my tears, "I'll give you any amount of money you want. Please, just let me go."

But the thugs were unmoved, one of them viciously slashing my cheek with a knife.

"What a shame. Such a pretty face, about to be ruined."

Their mocking laughter, the feeling of the blade tearing through my skin, the sharp crack of bone under the iron rod, and their snarling faces were burned into my memory.

I woke up with a start, gasping for air.

Once I calmed down, I realized I was in the family's private clinic. Outside the empty room, I could hear the doctor talking to Marco.

"She was brought in too late. There’s severe nerve damage in her right hand. Even if she recovers, she’ll never be able to write for long periods or do any fine, detailed work again. She also has three broken ribs and a deep laceration on her face. It will almost certainly scar."

"Is there really no other way? She's a top negotiator—an advisor who can't even write? How will she command any respect?"

The doctor sighed and shook his head. "She was a top candidate for the Chief Advisor position, but now, that position is out of the question for her."

After the doctor left, Frank finally couldn't hold back. "Sienna can't be an advisor anymore. So that fake ledger—the one framing her for embezzling from the Chicago job—we don't need it now, right?"

Marco was silent for a long moment before his voice came out, hoarse.

"I know this will destroy her reputation, but I have to submit it. Just in case. Carla has no one to rely on in New York; this is the only way to secure her future. Sienna is different. She still has me. I'll be her rock."

I closed my eyes as a single tear slid down my cheek and soaked into the pillow.

The man who claimed he would be my rock was the one pushing me into the abyss.

The next morning, the family's Consigliere, Mr. Petrov, walked into my room with a grim expression and handed me a file folder. Since I’d joined the family business, Mr. Petrov had been a mentor to me. But now, I saw only cold disappointment in his eyes.