THE ENFORCER'S SILENT DEBT

The red silk dress Kaelen picked was beautiful, but it felt like a trap. It was tight, showing off every curve, and the color was the exact shade of the blood I had seen in the alley.

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the diamond on my finger. It sparkled under the lights, mocking me. To the world, I was a lucky girl engaged to a rich, powerful man. In reality, I was a witness who was one wrong word away from a bullet.

"Stop shaking," Kaelen's voice came from behind me.

I turned around. He was standing in the doorway, wearing a dark grey suit that made him look like a shadow. He walked toward me, his heavy boots silent on the rug. He stopped right in front of me and placed his large hands on my shoulders. His touch was firm, grounding me.

"My father is going to watch you tonight," Kaelen said, his eyes locking onto mine. "He's going to look for any sign that you're lying. If he thinks you're just a witness, he will kill you right at the table. Do you understand?"

I swallowed hard. "I'm not a good liar, Kaelen."

"Then don't lie," he said, his voice dropping to a low growl. "Just look at me. Pretend I'm the only thing in the world that matters. If you get scared, look into my eyes and stay silent. I'll do the talking."

He led me out of the room and down a long hallway. The house was quiet, but it didn't feel peaceful. It felt like a bomb waiting to go off. We went down a grand staircase and into a dining room that looked like something out of a movie.

At the end of a long, black table sat an older man. He had silver hair and a face that looked like it was carved out of stone. This was Viktor Volkov. The Don.

"So," Viktor said. His voice was raspy, like he had spent years screaming. "This is the girl who has my son acting like a fool."

Kaelen didn't flinch. He pulled out a chair for me and sat me down before taking his own seat. "She isn't a fool, Father. She's mine. I've kept her hidden because I knew you'd react like this."

Viktor didn't look at Kaelen. He stared at me. His eyes were cold and dead. He looked at my face, then down at my neck. He froze. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the star-shaped birthmark on my skin.

The silence in the room became heavy. I could hear the clock ticking on the wall. It felt like the air was being sucked out of the room.

"That mark," Viktor whispered. He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "I've seen that before. Many years ago."

I felt Kaelen stiffen beside me. My heart started thudding against my ribs. "It's... it's just a birthmark, sir," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Viktor didn't seem to hear me. He was lost in a memory. "Silas Thorne had a daughter with a mark just like that. But she died in a fire. I saw the house burn myself."

Kaelen laughed, but it sounded forced. "You're seeing ghosts, Father. Ivy is from a foster home in the city. She has nothing to do with the Thornes. She's just a girl I fell for."

Viktor finally looked away from me and stared at his son. "Is she? Because a witness needs to die, Kaelen. That is the rule. If she is truly your fiancée, she needs to prove her loyalty to this family. We don't have room for weak women."

He snapped his fingers. Two guards entered the room, dragging a man whose face was covered in bruises. They threw him onto the floor at the end of the table. The man groaned, coughing up blood.

"This man was caught stealing from our warehouse," Viktor said. He picked up a sharp steak knife from the table and held it out toward me. "If you are going to be a Volkov, you can't be afraid of blood. Finish him, and I'll believe you're one of us."

I stared at the knife. The metal glinted in the candlelight. My hands started to tremble. I looked at the man on the floor. He was begging with his eyes, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"She doesn't need to do this," Kaelen said, his voice turning dangerous.

"Yes, she does," Viktor snapped. "Or she dies with him."

I looked at Kaelen. He was watching me, his jaw tight. I knew what he was thinking. Do it or we both die.

I reached out and took the knife. It was heavier than I expected. I stood up, my legs feeling like they were going to give out. I walked toward the man on the floor. Every step felt like a mile.

I looked down at the prisoner. I couldn't do it. I was a musician, not a murderer. But then I saw Viktor watching me, a cruel smile on his face. He wanted me to fail. He wanted an excuse to kill me.

I turned the knife in my hand. Instead of stabbing the man, I pressed the blade into my own palm and sliced hard.

I let out a sharp gasp as the pain flared. Red blood began to drip from my hand, splashing onto the white rug and the prisoner's shirt.

"What are you doing?" Viktor barked, standing up.

I turned to face him, holding my bleeding hand out so he could see it. "In my world, we don't kill the help for small mistakes," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "I've already bled for this family tonight. My blood is on your floor now, Don Volkov. Is that not enough proof? Or do you want to keep testing the woman your son chose to marry?"

The room went dead silent. Kaelen stood up and moved to my side, his eyes wide with shock. Viktor stared at me, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, I thought he was going to kill me right there.

Then, he started to laugh. It was a dry, hollow sound.

"She has claws," Viktor said, sitting back down. "Dangerous claws. Fine. The girl stays. For now."

Kaelen grabbed my wrist, his thumb pressing against the wound to stop the bleeding. He didn't say anything, but the look he gave me was full of something I hadn't seen before. It wasn't just protection. It was respect.

He led me out of the room before the food was even served. As we walked back up the stairs, I felt dizzy from the pain and the fear.

"That was the bravest, stupidest thing I've ever seen," Kaelen whispered once we were in the hallway.

"I saved him," I whispered back.

"You saved yourself," Kaelen corrected me. He looked at my hand, his face darkening. "But now my father knows you're a threat. And in this house, threats don't live very long."