Chapter 2 - THE PRICE OF THE DEBT
“How much do we owe?”
Carol looked at the floor.
Adrian DeLuca looked at Carol.
Madeline looked between them.
Nobody answered.
That frightened her more than any number could have.
“How much?”
Adrian finally spoke.
“One point eight million.”
Madeline laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because sometimes the human body chooses the wrong reaction when reality becomes too large.
“One point eight million dollars?”
Carol started crying.
“Maddie, I’m sorry.”
Madeline stared at her aunt.
The woman who had given her a bedroom after her parents died.
Who had sat on the bathroom floor with her during panic attacks.
Who had quietly paid for therapy when Madeline refused to admit she needed it.
Madeline could not become angry fast enough to protect herself from the fear.
“How?”
Carol wiped her face.
“Your uncle borrowed against the store.”
“For what?”
Silence.
“Carol.”
“Another business.”
“What business?”
Adrian answered.
“One that failed.”
Madeline turned sharply.
“I asked her.”
His expression did not change.
Carol whispered—
“A restaurant.”
Madeline closed her eyes.
Uncle Raymond had talked about opening a restaurant for years.
She had thought it was harmless dreaming.
Apparently dreams became expensive when financed privately.
“He borrowed from the DeLucas?”
“Originally from another lender,” Adrian said.
“My family acquired the note.”
“Why?”
“Because the original lender owed us money.”
Of course.
In Adrian’s world, debts apparently moved between men like poker chips.
Madeline looked around the shop.
The glass cabinets.
The old cash register.
Winston the owl.
Her workbench in back.
Her parents had not owned this place.
Carol had.
But after the accident, Pierce & Pine became the closest thing Madeline had to a childhood home.
“You’re taking the store.”
It was not a question.
Adrian’s eyes settled on her.
“If the loan remains unpaid, we have that right.”
Carol started crying harder.
Madeline felt something cold move through her.
“How long?”
“Thirty days.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I know.”
“Then why give us thirty?”
Adrian said nothing.
That irritated her.
“Men like you don’t give people time without wanting something.”
Carol whispered—
“Maddie.”
“No.”
Madeline pulled off her apron.
“I want to hear him say it.”
Adrian’s mouth moved slightly.
Not quite a smile.
“You think you understand men like me?”
“I understand debt collectors.”
“That isn’t what I am.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
He looked around the shop.
“I came because I wanted to see the property before deciding what to do with it.”
“And?”
“I don’t want the property.”
Madeline blinked.
Carol did too.
“Then what do you want?”
Adrian was silent for several seconds.
Then—
“A wife.”
The room stopped.
Madeline stared at him.
Carol actually sat down.
“What?”
Adrian remained perfectly calm.
“I need to marry.”
Madeline laughed again.
This time there was nothing accidental about it.
“Then try a dating app.”
Carol whispered—
“Maddie.”
Adrian’s eyes almost warmed.
“Those tend to require conversation.”
“You seem capable.”
“I’m selective.”
“You walked into an antique store to collect nearly two million dollars and proposed marriage in under ten minutes.”
“I did not propose.”
Madeline stared.
“Good distinction.”
“I offered a contract.”
That extinguished the humor.
She crossed her arms.
“Explain.”
Adrian removed a folded document from inside his coat.
Of course he had paperwork.
Men like Adrian DeLuca probably had contracts for breathing.
“My family is entering a period of transition.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It is.”
“My uncle Vincent believes I should marry the daughter of a family we have worked with for decades.”
Madeline understood the euphemism.
Another crime family.
“I have no intention of doing that.”
“So marry someone else.”
“That is the plan.”
She stared.
Then realized.
“No.”
Adrian said nothing.
“No.”
“You haven’t heard the terms.”
“I don’t need the terms.”
“The debt disappears.”
Carol gasped.
Madeline felt the air leave her lungs.
Adrian continued.
“The property transfers to Mrs. Pierce free of all liens.”
Madeline’s heart hammered.
“The store’s business debts are cleared.”
Carol covered her mouth.
Madeline hated him for knowing exactly where to press.
“What do you get?”
“One year.”
“Of marriage?”
“Yes.”
“To me.”
“Yes.”
“Why me?”
That question came too quickly.
Something changed in Adrian’s face.
He glanced toward the oak sideboard in the back room.
“You don’t frighten easily.”
Madeline almost laughed.
“You’ve known me seven minutes.”
“You called me a debt collector.”
“You are a debt collector.”
“Most people don’t say it.”
“Most people probably have self-preservation.”
“You also have no connection to any competing family.”
That answer made more sense.
“No political ambitions.”
“None.”
“No interest in my business.”
“I’m developing less interest by the second.”
“And you have something to protect.”
There it was.
Carol.
The store.
The home.
Leverage.
Madeline felt sick.
“You want a hostage who signs voluntarily.”
Adrian’s expression hardened.
“No.”
“That is exactly what you’re describing.”
“No.”
He moved the contract back into his coat.
“I will not force you.”
Madeline stared at the debt papers on the counter.
“One point eight million dollars.”
“Yes.”
“And if I say no?”
“I enforce the loan.”
Carol made a broken sound.
Madeline turned toward him.
“You call that a choice?”
“No.”
That answer surprised her.
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“I call it the situation that existed before I walked through the door.”
He paused.
“I’m offering another way out.”
Madeline wanted to hate that logic.
The problem was that part of it was true.
The debt existed.
Adrian had not created it.
But he was certainly willing to use it.
“What kind of marriage?”
“Legal.”
“That was not what I meant.”
“I know.”
His voice lowered.
“You will have your own room.”
Madeline blinked.
“No physical obligations.”
Something in Carol’s expression shifted.
Adrian continued.
“You attend necessary family events.”
“How many?”
“Some.”
“That is not a number.”
“Approximately two per month.”
“Approximately?”
“My grandmother has a birthday whenever she feels ignored.”
Madeline almost smiled.
She stopped herself.
“You expect me to live with you?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“My home outside Franklin.”
“And the store?”
“Remains open.”
“My work?”
“Continues.”
“My aunt?”
“Untouched.”
“That’s a disturbing way to phrase it.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m trying not to.”
He took a breath.
“There is one more thing.”
Of course there was.
Madeline waited.
Adrian looked toward Carol.
Then back to Madeline.
“There will be no children.”
The sentence landed strangely.
Not because Madeline had been thinking about children.
She had barely accepted that they were discussing marriage.
“Is that another contract term?”
“No.”
Something moved through his eyes.
Old.
Hard.
Private.
“I cannot have them.”
Carol looked away.
Madeline’s anger softened before she could stop it.
“I’m sorry.”
Adrian’s face closed immediately.
“Don’t be.”
“That wasn’t pity.”
“I didn’t ask what it was.”
Interesting.
Pain.
There.
Buried so quickly most people would have missed it.
Madeline repaired old furniture for a living.
She knew what concealed cracks looked like.
“When did you find out?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Fourteen years ago.”
“How?”
“Injury.”
He gave her nothing else.
She understood that boundary.
“So you need a temporary wife.”
“Yes.”
“To avoid marrying whoever your uncle picked.”
“Yes.”
“And in exchange you forgive Raymond’s debt.”
“Yes.”
Madeline looked at Carol.
Her aunt shook her head.
“No.”
“Carol.”
“No, sweetheart.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“We lose the store.”
“You’ll lose your home.”
“Then we lose it.”
Madeline stared.
Carol grabbed her hands.
“You do not marry a dangerous man because Raymond made a stupid decision before he died.”
Adrian did not react.
That somehow made it worse.
Madeline whispered—
“He took care of us.”
“Yes.”
“He also did this.”
“Yes.”
“And you hid it.”
Carol closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Madeline pulled her hands free.
“I need air.”
She walked through the back door.
Adrian did not follow.
She noticed that.
For twenty minutes, Madeline sat on an overturned crate behind the shop.
Cars passed.
A delivery truck backed into the café next door.
Normal life kept happening with insulting efficiency.
One year.
That was what he wanted.
Twelve months.
She could save Carol’s home.
Save the store.
Save the business.
Then leave.
The rational part of her brain screamed that marrying a man connected to organized crime was not rational.
Another part asked what happened when the store vanished.
Carol was sixty-two.
She had spent everything caring for Raymond during his cancer treatment.
There was no retirement plan hiding somewhere.
No second house.
No miracle.
The back door opened.
Madeline expected Carol.
Adrian stepped out instead.
She stood immediately.
“I said I needed air.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I’m leaving.”
That stopped her.
“What?”
“I’ll have my attorney send the loan documents.”
“You’re withdrawing the offer?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His expression was unreadable.
“Because your aunt was right.”
Madeline stared.
Adrian continued.
“You shouldn’t agree while you’re afraid.”
She had not expected morality from him.
It made her distrust him more.
“You’re still taking the store.”
“If the debt remains unpaid.”
“So nothing changed.”
“No.”
He put on his gloves.
“But I won’t use your panic to get a signature today.”
Madeline watched him walk toward the alley.
“Adrian.”
He stopped.
It was the first time she had used his first name.
He turned.
“What happens if I say yes tomorrow?”
His expression did not change.
“The same offer stands.”
“And if I say yes in a week?”
“One week.”
“Why?”
“Because my family meeting is in nine days.”
Madeline laughed bitterly.
“Of course there’s a deadline.”
“There is always a deadline.”
He walked away.
Three days later, Madeline learned the roof repair would cost another eighteen thousand dollars.
Four days later, a creditor threatened to freeze the store’s merchant account.
Five days later, Carol admitted she was three months behind on the mortgage for the small house behind the shop.
On the sixth day, Madeline called Adrian.
He answered immediately.
“Madeline.”
She hated that he knew the number.
“Are the terms the same?”
Silence.
Then—
“Yes.”
“One year.”
“Yes.”
“My room.”
“Yes.”
“No children.”
His answer came slower.
“Yes.”
“My aunt keeps everything.”
“Yes.”
“You never involve her in your business.”
“I give you my word.”
Madeline closed her eyes.
“That means something where you come from?”
“It means everything.”
She took one breath.
Then another.
“Fine.”
His voice changed.
Barely.
“Fine?”
“I’ll marry you.”
He said nothing for so long that she checked the screen.
“Adrian?”
“I’m here.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am.”
“That’s comforting.”
“Madeline.”
“What?”
“You can still change your mind before the papers are signed.”
She looked at the cracked ceiling.
The store.
Carol.
Everything she loved and everything she feared losing.
“No.”
Her voice shook.
“I don’t think I can.”
The wedding happened twelve days later.
No white dress.
No flowers.
No church.
Just a judge in a private office, two attorneys, Carol, and three men from Adrian’s security team.
When the judge said—
“You may kiss the bride.”
Madeline’s entire body tightened.
Adrian noticed.
He leaned close enough that only she could hear.
“We don’t have to.”
She looked at him.
Then at the judge.
Then at Carol.
Madeline lifted her chin.
“It’s fine.”
Adrian touched his mouth lightly to her forehead.
Nothing more.
The judge smiled.
Carol cried.
And Madeline Pierce became Madeline DeLuca.
The wife of a man half of Tennessee feared.
A man she barely knew.
A man who had told her with absolute certainty that their marriage would never produce a child.
And somewhere across town, in a locked office Adrian had not entered in fourteen years, an old medical file sat inside a steel cabinet.
On the front was his name.
May you like
ADRIAN MICHAEL DELUCA.
Under DIAGNOSIS, someone had typed a lie.
