Chapter 4 - The Golden Cage of Upper East Side
Sophia stared at Dante in utter disbelief, her hands clenching into tight fists in her lap.
"I am a server at Veluto," she said sharply. "I am not for sale to the Moretti family."
Dante almost smiled, a cold, dangerous flicker of amusement touching the corners of his lips.
"Ten thousand dollars a week," Dante stated, ignoring her indignation entirely.
"Your landlord gets paid in full tomorrow morning, your brother's tuition is covered, and your mother gets a new car."
"In exchange, you move into our estate on 72nd Street and cook for my mother three times a day."
Sophia gasped quietly at the staggering amount of money, a sum that could instantly rescue her struggling family.
"Why me?" she asked, her voice dropping to a vulnerable whisper. "You could hire the best chefs in Italy."
"She doesn't want private chefs," Dante said, his eyes darkening with an old, unresolved pain.
"She wants someone who remembers Castelbuono. She wants someone who isn't terrified of her."
The SUV pulled up to Sophia’s dilapidated apartment building in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, idling quietly beside the stoop.
"You have until eight o'clock tomorrow morning to decide," Dante said, handing her a sleek black business card.
"If you are on that stoop at 0800, Enzo will pick you up. If not, your debt remains yours to drown in."
Sophia grabbed her purse, pushed the door open, and practically ran up the steps to her third-floor apartment.
Her mother was sitting at the tiny kitchen table, crying softly over a stack of unpaid medical and utility bills.
Her younger brother, Leo, was fast asleep on the couch, his college textbooks scattered across the stained carpet.
Sophia looked at her family, then down at the heavy black business card stamped with gold raised lettering.
Dante Moretti. Moretti Enterprises.
She closed her eyes, remembering her grandmother’s quiet voice echoing from the past.
Sometimes, child, the scariest doors lead to the only path home.
May you like
At 07:55 AM the following morning, Sophia stepped onto the stoop carrying a single duffel bag.
Enzo was already standing beside the idling black SUV, holding the rear door open with a respectful bow.
