In the Name of the Sacred Tree

*BELLA'S POV*

The kitchen was alive with the sounds of sizzling pans and clattering dishes. The savory aroma of garlic and basil filled the air, mixing with the comforting scent of freshly baked bread. It was another busy night at Rossi's, our family's beloved but struggling Italian restaurant. I moved quickly, my hands a blur as I plated the last order of the night.

Bella, table five needs more bread,” Maria, our waitress, called out over the noise.

Coming right up,” I replied, grabbing a basket and filling it with warm rolls. As I handed it off to her, my father walked in. His face looked more lined than usual, his shoulders slumped.

Bella,” he said softly, a hint of desperation in his voice. “We need to talk.”

I glanced at him, noting the deep worry in his eyes. “Can it wait, Papa? I need to finish up here.”

It can't,” he insisted, his voice trembling slightly. “It's important.”

I sighed, nodding. I handed off the last plate to Maria and followed my father into the office. The small space was cluttered with papers, the faint smell of old wood lingering in the air. My father closed the door behind us and turned to face me, his eyes filled with fear and guilt.

“Bella, we’re in trouble. The restaurant...it’s worse than I’ve let on.”

My heart sank. “How bad?”

He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “We're deep in debt. If we don't do something, we'll lose everything.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. “What can we do?”

He hesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Bella, there's something I need to tell you. Something I've been hiding.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. “What is it, Papa?”

“I...I've been gambling. For years. And now, the debts have caught up with me.”

I stared at him, stunned. “Gambling? Why didn't you tell me?”

''I thought I could handle it, that I could win it back. But it’s gotten out of control.” His voice broke, and he looked at me with pleading eyes. “Bella, the mafia is involved. They're threatening to take over the restaurant if we don't pay.”

My knees felt weak, and I sank into the nearest chair. “How much do we owe?”

Hundreds of thousands,” he whispered. “I've been trying to keep it from you, trying to protect you. But now they're demanding payment, and we don't have the money.”

I felt a surge of anger and fear. “Why, Papa? Why didn't you come to me sooner?”