Chapter 1
The living room was quiet except for the steady drone of the news anchor’s voice coming from the flat-screen TV. Isabella sat cross-legged on the couch, eyes glued to the screen. Beside her, her elder sister Francesca scrolled on her phone, showing a lack of interest. Rosa, their mother, leaned forward. Her fingers fumbled with the remote to turn up the volume.
“Breaking news tonight,” the anchor announced, her tone grave. Famous businessman and philanthropist Enzo Romano is now in custody. He faces charges of fraud, embezzlement, and obstruction of justice. Federal investigators think Romano misused over three hundred million dollars from investors. His assets have been seized pending further investigation.”
Isabella’s mouth fell open.
Rosa gripped her chest, eyes wide. “Enzo...? No, this can’t be happening.”
“Dad?” Francesca muttered, finally lowering her phone, a mixture of confusion and disbelief in her voice. “What the hell is going on?”
The screen showed chaotic footage. Enzo was led out of a tall building in handcuffs. Cameras flashed, and reporters shouted. His face was tight, and his jaw was clenched. But Isabella saw something more through the screen: shame weighed on him, heavy and clear.
“This has to be a mistake,” Isabella whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.
That night, they waited for him, the house heavy with silence. Hours crawled by until, well past midnight, the front door finally opened.
Enzo walked in slowly. He draped his suit jacket over one shoulder, and he left his shirt collar unbuttoned and messy. He looked like a man decades older than he was.
“Enzo!” Rosa gasped, rushing toward him.
“Dad,” Isabella’s voice trembled.
He raised a tired hand to stop them. “I know what you saw. I won’t lie. But it’s not what you think. I was set up.”
“Set up?” Francesca echoed, disbelief sharpening her tone.
He sank heavily into the armchair. “They needed a scapegoat. They found me. The government froze all my accounts and seized nearly everything we owned.”
Rosa’s breath hitched. “Everything?”
“Almost. The house is still ours — only because I drained the last of our savings to keep it. Same with the cars.”
Silence fell, thick and suffocating.
“But I’ll fix this,” Enzo promised, his voice rough but determined. “I swear I will. Just give me time.”
---
Two weeks later, the tension had turned into frustration.
Francesca slammed her textbooks down on the kitchen table. “I need my school fees paid. And I haven’t even bought half of my books yet.”
Enzo sighed heavily. “Francesca, I’m working on it. Please, just a little more time.”
She scoffed, eyes flashing. “Working on what? Sitting around looking pathetic? What kind of father lets his daughters suffer like this?”
“Watch your tone,” Isabella warned, her voice calm but firm.
“No, she’s right,” Rosa said, her voice steady but strained. “We can’t keep living like this. The neighbors are whispering. I don’t have anything decent to wear to the women’s brunch next week. And the girls need clothes, school fees, and supplies…”
Enzo stood abruptly. “Do you think I don’t know that?”
Rosa stepped closer, frustration bleeding through. “Then do something. Take a loan. Open another credit line. Do whatever it takes to provide for us.”
He ran a hand through his hair, the weight crushing him. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” she cut him off sharply. “Do it for your daughters. For me.”
The next day, Enzo applied for a loan after loan, credit card after credit card. When those were maxed out, Rosa and Francesca filled the house with online orders — luxury brands, makeup, designer shoes.
When Adrian saw the statements, something inside him snapped.
“Are you out of your mind?!” he exclaimed.
Rosa’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t yell at me. I’m not the one who committed fraud.”
Francesca tossed her hair defiantly. “You should be grateful we’re still here.”
Blood roared in Enzo’s ears. Without another word, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
---
Later that night, Enzo sat on a bench near the old market district, his head in his hands.
A man in a gray coat approached, sliding down beside him.
“You look like hell, Enzo.”
He looked up. It was Luca —an old friend from business school.
“You have no idea,” Enzo muttered.
Luca’s voice softened. “I might. I’ve been where you are. There’s a group. Men who help each other when the system fails. They call themselves The Obsidian Circle.”
Enzo frowned. “A cult?”
“No. Just wealthy men making private deals.”
Luca pressed a black card into his palm, the emblem of a serpent gleaming in the dim light. “Go see Salvatore De Luca. Tomorrow. If you’re desperate enough.”
---
The next day, Enzo entered a marble-floored office where two silent men in suits greeted him.
At the end of the hallway, a large door opened. Salvatore De Luca stood there. He was in his early seventies and impeccably dressed. However, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You must be Mr. Romano,” Salvatore said smoothly. “Please, have a seat.”
Enzo sat, hands trembling.
“Luca mentioned that you need help.”
“I do,” Enzo said quietly. “Money. Enough to restart my business, pay debts, and secure my family’s future.”
Salvatore’s eyes gleamed. “Anything you ask?”
Enzo swallowed hard. “Yes. Anything.”
Salvatore leaned back. “Do you have children?”
“Two daughters.”
“Good. Are they… of age?”
Enzo’s stomach twisted. “Yes, they are."
“How old?”
"Twenty and Twenty-two."
“And both virgins?”
Adrian’s heart clenched. “Yes.”
Salvatore smiled thinly. “Here’s my offer: one hundred million dollars today. In two years, you give me your first daughter — for marriage. She must be a virgin. If you hold up your end, I’ll give you fifty million more.”
Enzo’s head spun. It was monstrous. Insane. But it was the only way.
“Deal,” he said, signing the contract without a word to his wife or daughters.
---
That evening, Enzo returned home clutching a check—and a lie.
“Where did this come from?” Rosa asked, her eyes wide.
“An old friend. We’re starting a new business together.”
Francesca squealed and threw her arms around him. Isabella smiled, uncertain but hopeful.
Enzo forced a smile.
But deep inside, he knew they would come for Francesca.
And he had just sold her.
