Lucia's Pov
The doorbell rang at exactly 6:00 AM.
I knew because I'd been awake all night, watching the clock, jumping at every sound. When the bell actually rang, I almost screamed.
Sofia was still asleep. Thank God. I didn't want her to see this.
I looked through the peephole with one shaking eye.
Two men in dark suits. Big men. The kind who looked like they broke bones for a living.
This was it. They were here.
But I had three more days. The paper said thirty days. I counted. Twenty-seven days had passed. I had three days left.
I opened the door with the chain still on. "Can I help you?"
The taller one smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "Mrs. Lucia Torres?"
"Yes."
"I'm Marcus. This is Vincent. We're from Pacific Financial Solutions. May we come in?"
"I have three more days," I said quickly. "The contract says—"
"Actually, Mrs. Torres, you don't." Marcus pulled out a paper. "May we come in? This will be easier to explain inside."
My mouth went dry. "No. Whatever you need to say, say it here."
Vincent sighed. He looked tired. Like he'd done this a hundred times. "Mrs. Torres, you signed a contract with a thirty-day grace period. But the grace period doesn't mean you have thirty days to pay. It means your first payment was due thirty days after signing."
"That's the same thing."
"No, ma'am. Your first payment was due three days ago. You're already late."
The hallway started spinning. "That can't be right. I thought—"
"What you thought doesn't matter. What matters is what you signed." Marcus held up the paper. "See? Right here. First payment due August 15th. That was three days ago."
I grabbed the doorframe. No. This couldn't be happening.
"I don't have the money," I whispered.
"We know. That's why we're here."
"To take my house?"
"No. Not yet. Our boss wants to speak with you first."
"Who's your boss?"
"Mr. Russo. He'd like you to come with us. Now."
I laughed. It came out high and crazy. "You want me to get in a car with two strange men at six in the morning? Do I look stupid?"
"You look desperate," Vincent said. Not mean. Just honest. "And desperate people sometimes make smart choices when they have no other options."
"My answer is no."
I started to close the door.
Marcus put his foot in the way. "Mrs. Torres. We're trying to help you."
"By taking my house?"
"By giving you a chance to keep it." He pulled out another paper. "Do you recognize this?"
I looked at it. My eyes wouldn't focus. Too many numbers. Too many words.
Then I saw it.
St. Mary's Hospital.
Sofia's hospital.
"What is this?" My voice barely worked.
"This is your daughter's insurance information. The hospital listed Pacific Financial Solutions as her insurance provider."
"What? No. That's impossible. She has Medicaid—"
"Not anymore. When you signed the loan papers, you also signed insurance papers. Pacific Financial now covers all of Sofia's medical expenses."
I couldn't breathe. "I never signed—"
"Page twelve. Bottom of the form. Your signature is right there."
He showed me. And there it was. My signature. My stupid, desperate signature.
"So if you don't come with us," Vincent said quietly, "if you refuse to meet with Mr. Russo, then we cancel the insurance. Effective immediately."
"You can't do that. Sofia has surgery next week—"
"We can do whatever the contract says we can do. And the contract says insurance is contingent on your cooperation."
I wanted to scream. To hit someone. To break something.
But mostly I wanted to cry.
"If I come with you, Sofia keeps her insurance?"
"Yes."
"And if I don't?"
Marcus and Vincent looked at each other.
"Let's not talk about that," Marcus said.
I looked back at Sofia's closed door. My baby girl. Sleeping peacefully. Not knowing her mother was about to get in a car with criminals.
But what choice did I have?
"Let me leave a note for my neighbor. She watches Sofia sometimes."
"Make it quick."
I wrote the note with shaking hands. "Mrs. Chen—please check on Sofia. I had to run an errand. Back by noon. —Lucia"
I slid it under Mrs. Chen's door.
Then I followed Marcus and Vincent downstairs.
Their car was black and expensive. The inside smelled like leather and money.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"You'll see."
We drove for twenty minutes. Out of my neighborhood. Through downtown. Into the part of the city where rich people lived.
Big houses. Clean streets. Trees everywhere.
We pulled up to a building that looked like a castle. All glass and steel.
"Mr. Russo is on the top floor," Marcus said.
The elevator was so smooth I barely felt it move. Soft music played. Everything was clean and perfect.
The opposite of my life.
The doors opened to an office that was bigger than my entire apartment. Windows everywhere. The city spread out below like a toy.
And there, behind a huge desk, sat a man.
Young. Maybe thirty-five. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Expensive suit.
He looked up when we walked in.
And I forgot how to breathe.
He was beautiful. Not handsome. Beautiful. Like a statue. Like something too perfect to be real.
"Mrs. Torres." His voice was smooth. Calm. "Thank you for coming."
"I didn't have a choice."
A smile flickered across his face. "No. I suppose you didn't." He nodded at Marcus and Vincent. "Leave us."
"Sir, are you sure—"
"Leave."
They left.
Now it was just me and him. And the whole city watching through the windows.
"Sit," he said.
"I'd rather stand."
"Sit, Mrs. Torres. Please."
Something in his voice made me obey. I sat.
He studied me for a long moment. Like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.
"You're probably wondering why I asked you here."
"You mean why you threatened my daughter to force me here?"
Another smile. Bigger this time. "I like you. Most people who sit in that chair are crying by now."
"Give me a minute."
He laughed. Actually laughed. "I looked at your file. Three jobs. One daughter. Dead husband. No family. And now a debt you can't possibly pay."
"Is this where you tell me I'm going to lose everything?"
"No." He stood up and walked to the window. "This is where I tell you that someone set you up."
My heart stopped. "What?"
"Your friend, Maria Santos. She was paid to recruit you into this loan. Twenty-five thousand dollars. Deposited into her account the day you signed."
"That's not true. Maria would never—"
"Maria is missing, Mrs. Torres. Has been for three days. Right after she sent you that text saying 'I'm so sorry.'"
The room tilted.
Maria. My best friend since third grade. The girl who braided my hair. Who held me when my husband died. Who promised Sofia would be okay.
Maria betrayed me for money?
"Why?" My voice cracked. "Why would she do that?"
"I don't know yet. But I'm going to find out." He turned to face me. "Someone wanted you in debt. Someone wanted you to lose your house. The question is why."
"I don't know. It's just a house. An old, worthless house."
"Nothing is worthless if someone wants it badly enough." He walked back to his desk and picked up a photo. "Tell me about your grandmother."
"What? Why?"
"Just answer the question."
"She... she died ten years ago. Left me the house. That's all."
"What did she do? For work?"
"She was a seamstress. She made clothes. Why does this matter?"
He handed me the photo.
It was old. Black and white. A young woman standing in front of my house. But the house looked different. Newer. Nicer.
"Is this your grandmother?" he asked.
I looked closer. "Yes. How did you—"
"Look at what she's wearing."
I looked. A simple dress. A necklace.
My breath caught.
The necklace. The one with the key.
"Where did you get this photo?"
"It was in a safe deposit box. Registered under the name Rosa Martinez." He paused. "That was your grandmother's name, wasn't it?"
"Yes, but—"
"The box was opened two weeks ago. By Maria Santos. She had a key."
Everything stopped.
Maria had a key to my grandmother's safe deposit box?
"What was in it?" I whispered.
"That's what I want you to tell me." He leaned forward. "Because whatever was in that box, someone is willing to kill for it. They used Maria to get close to you. They set you up to lose your house. And I think they're not done yet."
"I don't understand any of this."
"Neither do I. But we're going to figure it out together."
"Why would you help me?"
His eyes went cold. Hard. "Because someone is playing games in my city. Using my company. And I don't like being used."
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I looked at the screen.
A photo.
Sofia. Walking to school yesterday.
And a message: "Tick tock, Lucia. Time is running out."
I showed the phone to Dante with shaking hands.
He looked at it. His jaw tightened.
"When did you get this?"
"Just now."
He pressed a button on his desk. "Romano. Get in here. Now."
A man rushed in. Took one look at my phone and cursed.
"Someone's watching her," Romano said.
"I can see that." Dante looked at me. "Mrs. Torres, I'm going to ask you one more time. Do you have anything of your grandmother's? Anything unusual? Anything someone might want?"
I thought about the necklace. Hidden in my closet.
I should tell him.
But something stopped me.
"No," I lied. "Nothing."
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then nodded.
"Romano. Take Mrs. Torres home. Post two men outside her building. Nobody gets in or out without my knowing about it."
"Yes, sir."
I stood up. "What happens now?"
Dante looked out the window. "Now we wait. And watch. And hope they make a mistake."
"And if they don't?"
He turned to face me. His eyes were dark. Empty.
"Then someone dies."