Sinner's Paradise|| 18+

Havana Vieja.

                    Liliana's POV:

The plane touched down with a soft thud, and as it rolled along the tarmac, I felt a mixture of excitement and anticipation stirring inside me. Pressed against the window, I took in my first glimpse of Havana. Beneath me stretched a sea of pastel-colored buildings, their facades washed in peach, mint, and coral, lined with swaying palms that danced under the bright blue sky. The sunlight shimmered off the turquoise waves, casting a glistening glow over everything.

The plane came to a halt, and stepping out into the humid Cuban air, I was enveloped by the scent of saltwater mingling with cigars and tropical blooms. Inside the terminal, the lively energy was undeniable. Spanish chatter filled the air, mingling with the laughter of fellow travelers, while a live Cuban band played nearby, setting the perfect tone for my arrival. I collected my luggage and made my way outside, where the city greeted me with open arms. Vintage cars in every color zipped by, humming with nostalgia. The streets were alive, each corner promising a new discovery.

Then, among the crowd, I saw her—my aunt Isabelle, waving enthusiastically by the roadside. She looked exactly as I remembered: warm, radiant, her smile as bright as the Cuban sun. I rushed to her, my heart pounding with excitement.

"Tía Isabelle! It's so good to see you!" I called out, throwing my arms around her.

"¡Mi querida Lilliana! Welcome to Havana, mija!" she said, her hug enveloping me in warmth. "How was your flight?"

"It was long, but the view from above was incredible," I replied, still in awe. "This city is beautiful."

She beamed with pride. "There's nothing quite like it. Let me help you with your bags. Everyone's excited to see you, and we've planned a big dinner to welcome you."

The streets of Havana rolled by as we drove through the bustling city. Eventually, we reached El Vedado, a vibrant neighborhood that felt like a world away from the quiet, manicured streets of Mayfair. Lush greenery wrapped around grand old mansions, and the air felt rich with history and possibility. It was as if I'd stepped into a dream—a stark contrast from the life I'd left behind.

As evening settled, casting a warm golden glow over the beachside villa, my family had gathered to celebrate my arrival. Laughter, music, and the irresistible aroma of Cuban food filled the air. I felt at home.

But then, everything shifted. The music stopped abruptly, replaced by the sound of heavy footsteps. I turned to see a group of men pushing through the crowd. At their head was a man with piercing green eyes, olive skin, and dark curls framing his face with a rugged elegance. His powerful presence sent a ripple of tension through the room, and I sensed the raw danger in his gaze as it locked onto me.

"Tía Isabelle," he said in a low voice, each syllable dripping with menace.

Isabelle's face paled. "Luciano," she whispered, a mix of fear and fury flashing in her eyes.

The next moments were a blur—Luciano's men started smashing the decorations, glasses shattered, and plates clattered to the ground. My cousin Mario tried to intervene, but they beat him back mercilessly. I felt a rush of anger and fear.

"Stop it!" I cried out, voice shaking. "I'll call the authorities!"

Luciano's gaze shifted to me, his green eyes gleaming with amusement. He leaned in close, his voice a mocking purr. "You think the authorities scare me?" His breath was warm against my skin, and I could feel the threat coiling beneath his words.

I pulled out my phone, my hands trembling, desperate. But in a flash, Luciano drew a gun, pointing it directly at me. The cold steel barrel felt like a death sentence, and the mocking smirk faded from his face.

"Put the phone down," he ordered, voice low and unyielding.

I lowered my phone slowly, my pulse racing. This was no ordinary man. I saw the recognition in Isabelle's eyes, and a wave of horror swept over me.

"Isabelle," Luciano said, his voice laced with malice. "Either you pay the debt, or I'll kill the only son you have. Beating him was me being merciful."

Just when I thought I couldn't bear it any longer, my uncle Carlos burst into the room. His face was stern, his presence steady as he addressed Luciano with authority. "Give me until Friday," he said, a plea hidden beneath his firm tone.

Luciano's smirk returned as he locked eyes with me one last time, his gaze filled with cruel satisfaction. Then, with a nod, he lowered the gun, and he and his men left as abruptly as they'd arrived. The silence that followed was thick and suffocating.

Once the door clicked shut, I felt Maria's gentle hand on my shoulder, guiding me away from the shattered remains of what was supposed to be a welcome celebration. As she led me down the hallway, I glanced back, my heart heavy with the image of my aunt and uncle standing amidst the wreckage, bound by debts and threats that now weighed on all of us.

Inside my room, I sat on the edge of the bed, Luciano's cold gaze burned into my memory. Questions whirled through my mind. Who was this man, and what was the debt that had driven him to threaten our family so ruthlessly? And Friday—what would happen then?

In the dim light, shadows danced across the walls, filling the room with a haunting reminder of the night's events. This was no dream; I had stepped into a world of dark secrets, and the safety I'd felt mere hours ago had vanished, leaving only dread in its place. 

♡♤♡♡♡♡♤○□♤♡◇$◇♡♤•□○♧°••◇♤♤•

side note; i know this is a long chapter, so hopefully, you guys won't be bored reading all of that. i promise it will be less in the next one.