Chapter 4 Debt collector

The morning light was a fucking liar. It streamed through her blinds like everything was normal, but nothing was normal and might never be again. Isabella’s body felt like it had been run over by a truck, her mind still stuck on a loop of gunshots and that fucking dark stain on the cobblestones. She’d barely slept, just jerked in and out of nightmares where faceless men chased her through endless streets.

It was horrible.

She moved through Audrey's apartment like a ghost, her hands shaking so bad she could barely hold her toothbrush. A shower, she needed a shower, maybe it would wash the feeling of death off her skin. She turned the water up until it was scalding hot, standing under the spray until her skin was bright red and she could almost pretend the water was washing away the memory of yesterday.

“Geez, Isa. It's fuck seven in the morning, you own the gallery, so why am the fuck are you and about making all the worst noises.” Audrey groaned as she walked out of the bedroom. Her hair a mess.

Isabella sniffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Good morning to you too. As you not have realized, I have a father to check up on and I ruined an already ruined art that was brought it yesterday, so I have to fix it before the deadline. And I'm fine anyway, thanks for asking about my mental health.”

“Oh yeah, the death.” She stopped halfway to the kitchen rubbing her eyes. “I totally forgot about it, I thought it was a dream.”

“Surprise, surprise.”

“You don't have to be a bitch about, I'll make breakfast.” Audrey rolled her eyes.

“Hmm...”

She had to go to work. The thought was a sick joke. How was she supposed to sit there, across from where a man bled out, and act like she gave a shit about restoring some old art? But she's got a deadline against her and the possibility that she ruined the art more when she ran to take cover.

After the breakfast she quickly got into the car, and took a detour to the house on her way to work. She has to see her father first. She didn't care about whatever was up with his last night, and wouldn't even ask. It's not like he'd answer anyway, her father has this horrible reputation for hiding things.

That was his biggest flaw.

She grabbed her bag and climbed down the car, her eyes landing on the menacing black car parked just in front of her.

Her heart just stopped.

No. No, no, no. It couldn’t be.

Were they here? Had they followed her? Did they know she’d seen them? She heaved in and out, her hand freezing on the door handle. She almost threw the car in reverse and sped the fuck away.

But it was her dad’s house. What if they were in there with him? What if he was…?

She got to the front door, her ears straining for any sound from inside. It was silent. And alarming.

—

She turned the knob and pushed open the door with force and urgency, only to meet a more alarming sight.

Her father, Lorenzo, was kneeling in the middle of the living room to someone she could barely see because if the poor lighting. On her father's favorite armchair, the one he always fell asleep in watching football, sat man, crossed legs with mask, the only thing she could see was his lips and the lower part of his nose. The mask looked unique, like something handcrafted by the best, she knew nothing about mask though but this one caught her attention.

She took in the sight as she walked in, by her right was a mountain of a man, leaning by the door, his arms crossed, and a gun latched unto his waist.

A gun.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” her dad stammered, his voice thin and reedy with a fear she’d never heard in him before. “She's got nothing to do with this, please, just ask for any other thing.”

“Please, Lorenzo, don't drag this.” The man replied, massaging his other index finger where a ring was.

“I know, I'm sorry, but please, she's my only child. Please.” Lorenzo wailed, going back and forth with bowing to plead and raising his head to response.

“I'm sorry, perhaps I've been too calm for this conversation.” He raised his head up and those amber eyes landed on her. Startled, she moved back a little. “Your debt has accrued interest Lorenzo, initially you were the payment, but we also need the interest paid of now, don't you think, Ms Vinc”

Isabella shuddered and moved back a little shocked and afraid to take a step.

The masked head tilted. A tiny, cruel smile gracing the lips she could see below the mask. “It's not my fault that for a man so particular with his deeds, so obsessed with perfection…” He paused and dragged his gaze back to her father. “…you’re quite… what’s the word? Right. Clumsy.” He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. “You had just one fucking job!”

“Please,” her father begged, sobbing now, actual tears streaming down his face as he continued bowing. “It was just a job! I never wanted it, please… Forgive me. Please, take me instead, please!”

Take him? She snapped out if her immobile state. “What the fuck is going on?” she rushed to her father’s side, grabbing his arm, trying to haul him up, but he was a dead weight, just shaking and sobbing. “Papà, get up! What the hell is this?”

He looked up at her, his eyes wild with fear. “Oh, Bella,” he blurted out, his voice cracking wide open. “You have to do me a favour, Amore mio.”

“Favour? What's got you crying like a child? who's this man?”

“You'll be marrying him, amore mio, he's your husband to be.”

Isabella froze. She looked from her dad’s desperate, snotty face to the masked freak in the chair. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her chest. “Is this a joke? After all your fucking schemes to marry me off to some rich asshole, you’ve finally lost it and hired an actor? This isn’t funny, Papà! I thought you were in trouble or some kind of debt, since that's what your conversation insinuated. You've totally lost it.”

The man by the door pushed himself off the wall and took few wide steps to them. One second his hand was in his holster, the next there was a pistol in it, aimed right at her father’s head. The click of the safety ringing in her ears.

The laugh died in her throat. This was no joke.

Lorenzo shut his eyes in fear, feeling the cold metal on his temple. His brains could be blown out any moment. “Pleass, amore, you have to marry him. Please...”

“What the fuck?” She immediately dropped to her knees, her hands up in the air, “How much is it?”

“What?”

“How much is the fucking debt, papà?! What money did you take that you have to fucking marry me off to pay it. We can work for it, I'll take out a loan and also a few jobs, you'll return to work. In a year we might be able to pay it off.”

The masked man stared at her with amusement.

“It's... it's not about mone—”

“THEN WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS ABOUT?!!” She yelled, cutting him off. “Wgat crime did you fucking coming that you want me to marry a stranger?! I just had the worst fucking day yesterday, and I can't... I can't have a normal on today?”

“Isa, listen to me. We'll be safe as long as you marry him, I promise I'll find you, I'll sort this out and I'll get you away from there.”

The masked man snorted, “Yeah, your dad's a superhero.”

“Isa!!”

“Fine!! Fine!!! But not until you fucking tell me what's going on.”

“Very well then.” The man stood up and fuck, was he tall, his height just dominating everything. “The wedding will be tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Isabella cried, “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s impossible! You can’t be serious! I don’t even know who you are! Even if I did, you think all weddings happen in one day?”

He glared at the woman fir a hit second. She curse a lot, he noticed. “Well, Lorenzo? Will it happen tomorrow?”

Her dad nodded, his head bobbing up and down like a broken toy. “Yes! Yes, it will happen tomorrow! Whatever you want! Just...”

He nodded and walked to the door, tapping the gunman on his shoulder before walking out, the man followed suit, immediately the door slammed shut, Lorenzo collapsed on the floor, terrified.

“You have thirty seconds to explain to me what the fuck is going on, or I'm paying a visit to the station to get that bastard arrested tomorrow.”