Lucia Moretti's POV
The letter came on a Monday.
Mondays were always cursed.
Lucia stood in the dim back room of Moretti Auto Repair, wiping the sweat from her collarbone with the edge of an old rag. Oil stained her hands, her jeans, even the curve of her neck where she'd tucked a strand of hair earlier without thinking. The car, a temperamental Alfa Romeo from the '80s sat idle on the lift, still refusing to roar to life despite her coaxing.
She sighed. "I'm sick of you" She said to the machine as if it could speak back to her.
Outside, the sun had started to fall behind the cracked buildings of Palermo's working quarter. Orange light filtered through the grime-streaked windows, bathing the shop in an amber that made everything look sadder than it already was.
She didn't hear anyone come in.
When she walked into her apartment which was close to the workshop , it was there—on the floor the moment she stepped in. Whoever delivered the note had slipped it beneath her door. A black envelope, with a black wax seal like it was a gift from a ghost.
Lucia froze not from fear but from recognition.
The last time she saw a letter like that, she was fourteen years old, her father had brought it home in a trembling hand, his clothes soaked in sweat and she had seen the fear in his eyes that day. He read it once, folded it twice and drank an entire Limoncelo in silence. The next morning he left for the Lorenzo's estate without a word.
He came back...wrong, quiet, thinner like something had been hollowed out of him. He never mentioned what happened, only that it would be okay and that he handled it. A year later, he died, car crash, that was the tale she was told. Still an unsolved mystery.
Lucia had lived by herself ever since, fending and struggling, handling the mechanic all by herself. She breezed through high school and was unable to enter college because she couldn't save enough and didn't get a befitting job that paid well. So she moved on with the mechanic work trying to save up for college and now this calamity has claimed her sketching her plans in ruins.
They were back, the Lorenzo's. The feared underground mafia world was here to rip her off her savings all because of some crazy debt.
She picked up the envelope, black wax seal, no postage, no return address, just the goddamned raven wings folded, a blade beneath it's talons. It was beautiful and terrifying at same time. The raven was the Lorenzo's logo.
Her pulse hammered behind her ribs as she broke the seal. The letter was handwritten but elegant, expensive paper,heavy strokes, controlled pressure. She could practically hear the man who wrote it breathing between the lines.
Payments begins immediately,
You would be contacted soon.
-D
That was it, no threats, no promises, just inevitability, expect the impossible at any time.
Lucia let the paper fall to the table, her breath became slower now, deeper like preparing for a war. She stared at the words until they blurred.
She had spent the last ten years fixing broken things- busted engines, leaking walls, leaking pipes, but some things couldn't be fixed rather they had to be paid for and that was the situation she was in right now. She walked towards her dad study, that place was his memory that still lived on with her, she stepped in and walked over to one of the shelf pulling out an old rusty carton.
Inside, a worn-out photo of her mother whom she has no memory of, the only thing she knew about her mother was that she got seperated from her dad when she was born, the story behind it her dad didn't tell her till his demise and that was one of his crimes she wasn't going to forgive him for. Another belonging there was a silver ring which she didn't know it's origin and a second letter but ten years old with the same wax seal.
She ran her thumb across the old envelope, same handwriting, same final signature. D.
"Don Dante". She whispered to the empty room, tasting the name for the first time. It didn't feel real, it felt like a myth- one of those names people used in half jokes and ghost stories.
The Don who never speaks twice, The Raven of Palermo.
But now, her fate was intertwined in his hands, her father had sold her long before she realized it.
Her phone buzzed in her pockets.
It was an unknown number. Of course she would guess right from whom the call came from.
"Come outside, you're needed". The voice spoke and ended the call without letting her speak.
She didn't hesitate, she has to accept the new turn of events in her life. She threw on her leather jacket, grabbed the folded letter and tucked it in her inner pocket and then she moved.
Outside, a black car idled beneath the flickering street lamp, the car wasn't flashy, but the silence around around it was loud.
A man leaned against the door, his eyes fixated on his phone screen, fingers gliding through it. He didn't look up when he spoke.
"Lucia Moretti right?". He asked.
"That's me". She said
He raised his head and looked her dead in the eyes.
" Your debt starts now" he said.
She inhaled once, deep and long.
She was quiet, no word came out.
"Get in the car". He ordered and with a long distressing sigh, she moved with slow calculated steps towards the car.
And now, the most terrifying part of her life story was just about to begin.