it's all about money [cowt11 | week 02 | m1]

[hannyakoma]

Prompt: Soldi

Word count: 980
Rating: sfw
Fandom: Originale
Note: Mentions to illegal groups e tuttecose poco carine, again. Sto COWT sta a quota 0 fluff. (?)

---

 

Money is what makes the world turn.

That simple, yet strong statement has accompanied Blanche’s life since before she joined the ranks of the cartel. 

It is to be expected, clearly, in that line of work as well as everything else. It has always been about money.

Her parents had contracted a small debt some years before she went into university, to prepare to pay the tuition fees and some other minor reworks to do around the house. With the family business, they had planned to pay it back little by little, steadily, with their monthly income.

It was fine, right? Such a mundane occurrence, even.

That is, until that day happened. 

Blanche had been alone in the shop, finishing off the last of the bureaucratic work left for the day, when a sudden noise -- a loud knocking at the main door -- had startled her. Honestly, she was half tempted to leave it be, completing her job and then running home to get some sleep. That had been the plan she’d stick with.

Until the knocking stopped and she heard the doorknob being worked open. She had closed the door, she was sure, yet someone was picklocking their way in.

Her right hand flew to her smartphone, eyes darting in the direction of the front door while trembling fingers tried to unlock the screen. Damn her and her need for privacy! She had managed to finally deal the emergency number, when heavy footsteps made their way through the shop and to the back office.

She tried to scream when a slightly bulky figure entered her field of vision.

A burglar? The man looked too well-dressed to be one, but honestly: it wasn’t really the right time to comment on anyone’s fashion choices!

Her legs locked into place, impeding her to even try to run off -- a few seconds worth of time, that’s as much as she’d have bought for herself -- and in no time heavy hands found their way to her arms and mouth. An unfamiliar smell found its way into her nose and mouth, coming from a damp cloth pressed into her face.

The world became unfocused moments later, tilting on its axis before fading to black.

*

It had all been because of money. 

For some reasons, the men that broke into the shop had taken her hostage -- or better, as insurance to have their money back. Even now, in the present, Blanche still wonders how her parents managed to get in touch with loan sharks as vicious as them. Still, there’s no answer ready for her.

She had read about this kind of situation. Absurd interests rates, going up by the week if not the day, which created a sort of neverending debt. Impossible to pay off, heavier every passing day.

And those shackles found their way to her too, that time.

So she was used as both insurance and worker to begin paying off that huge debt. She couldn’t speak with her parents nor anyone else besides her “caretaker” (who, really, was nothing short of a guard dog). The… punishments for breaking the rule of silence hadn’t been pleasant -- Blanche sadly learned that the hard way.

Her life had actually become a personal hell, shaped by someone else’s hands at most with little of her own intervention. 

Unspeakable thoughts had found their way to her mind after a few months of that, something she’s ashamed of in the present. However, the memories of her parents’ sacrifices made for her sake, their smiles and the encouragement… Blanche tried her best to gain strength from those simple factors.

Still, hope wasn’t as long lived as she’d like it to.

And yet, fate apparently has its own odd ways.

She thought she’d be in trouble the day she accidentally walked in on a business meeting of her current “boss”. The man had looked at her scantalized, anger growing rapidly as he began apologizing with the other party, telling them about how she was just a stupid nuisance that he kept around because he had to.

Well, if it depended on her, she’d be on her merry way in no time! But no! Of course she had to be treated poorly, beaten up for no reason other than the boss needing to vent and unable to talk back.

Tears of frustration began prickling at her eyes, but she stubbornly pushed them back while keeping her head low. That is, until someone called her name.

“Blanche Booker.” The voice of a woman had asked, a little too cheerful for her tastes. Her smile had been friendly, but Blanche felt the slight edge in her expression like a physical touch. “You’re good with maths, right? I could use some good head… would you like to work for me?”

She remembers she had looked up with her eyes surely at the size of dinner plates, an expression mirrored by her pig boss. The man began chuckling nervously, asking the woman if she was kidding or whatever, spouting nonsense about it not being possible because of her situation.

The woman literally put him into his place. Before paying off her debt herself and telling her to come with her, no personal belongings or anything.

It was frustrating, being treated like an object, but she didn’t have a choice. Those were the kinds of people that can do whatever they want, because they had power and money and status -- no matter that it came from illegal activities. 

That is the world she is living in. 

However, between being treated almost like a slave, as some punchball to play with, by some dumb bastard and working (really working) at something she was actually good at, she’d chose the latter anytime. 

No matter how little she knows about her future.