THE ENFORCER'S SILENT DEBT

The silence in the room was too heavy.

Kaelen had been gone for three hours. I sat on the edge of the bed, the silver pistol feeling cold and heavy in my lap. My hand throbbed where I had cut it earlier, the bandage starting to feel tight. I had never held a gun before. In my world, the only thing I ever held was a cello bow. Now, I was waiting to see if I would have to kill someone.

I looked at the clock on the wall. 2:14 AM.

Every little sound made me jump. The wind hitting the window. The hum of the air conditioner. The house felt alive, but not in a good way. It felt like it was waiting for something bad to happen.

Thump.

I froze. The sound didn't come from the hallway. It came from the balcony.

I held my breath, listening. There it was again-a soft, metallic scrape of boots against stone. My heart started racing so fast I felt dizzy. Kaelen said he had doubled the guards, but this was the third floor. How could anyone get up here?

I stood up, my legs shaking. I remembered what Kaelen told me. Don't trust anyone. Pull the trigger.

Suddenly, the glass door of the balcony shattered.

Glass exploded into the room, glittering like diamonds in the moonlight. A man in a black mask burst through the heavy curtains. He was big, and he had a jagged knife in his hand.

"Stay back!" I screamed, raising the gun with both hands.

The man didn't stop. He laughed, a low, nasty sound that made my skin crawl. "A million dollars for a little girl in a red dress? This is the easiest paycheck I've ever had."

He lunged at me. I squeezed the trigger.

Click.

Nothing happened. The gun didn't fire. My heart dropped into my stomach. The safety was on.

"Stupid girl," the man hissed.

He tackled me, slamming me back against the bed. The gun flew out of my hand and skidded across the floor. I fought him, scratching at his eyes and kicking with everything I had, but he was too strong. He pinned my wrists down, his heavy body crushing the air out of my lungs.

"The Romanovs want you alive," he said, his voice hot against my ear. "But they didn't say I couldn't break a few of your bones first."

He raised his knife. I shut my eyes tight, a sob breaking from my throat. Kaelen. Help me.

Suddenly, the bedroom door didn't just open-it was kicked off its hinges.

A shadow flew across the room. There was a sickening crack of bone, and the weight on top of me was gone.

I scrambled back, gasping for air. Kaelen was there. He didn't look like a man anymore; he looked like a demon. He had the intruder by the throat, slamming him into the wall so hard the plaster cracked.

Kaelen didn't use a gun. He used his bare hands. He punched the man over and over, his face twisted in a look of pure, animal rage. Blood sprayed across the white wallpaper, but Kaelen didn't stop until the man slumped to the floor, unmoving.

Kaelen stood over the body, his chest heaving. His suit jacket was gone, and his white shirt was covered in grease and blood. He turned his head slowly to look at me. His eyes were dark, almost black.

I shrank back against the headboard, terrified. I had never seen anyone be that violent.

Kaelen saw my face and stopped. The rage in his eyes flickered and died. He looked down at his bloody knuckles, then back at me. "Did he touch you?"

I couldn't speak. I just pointed to my arm, where dark red finger marks were already turning into bruises.

Kaelen walked toward me. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly. He touched the bruise with a gentleness that didn't match the blood on his face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. His voice was raw. "I shouldn't have left you alone."

"Who was he?" I asked, my voice a tiny whimper.

"A dead man," Kaelen said coldly. He looked at the gun on the floor. He picked it up, flipped the safety off with his thumb, and handed it back to me. "Next time, Ivy, don't scream. Just shoot."

He sat on the edge of the bed next to me. He looked exhausted. He rested his head in his hands, and for a moment, the "Scary Enforcer" was gone.

"They won't stop," he said, staring at the floor. "The Romanovs, my father... they all want a piece of you because of who your father was."

I moved a little closer to him. "Tell me the truth, Kaelen. Please. My father... Silas Thorne. You knew him, didn't you?"

Kaelen looked at me. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old, burnt scrap of a photograph. He handed it to me.

In the photo, two men were laughing. One was Viktor Volkov, much younger. The other was a man with a kind smile and eyes just like mine. He was holding a little girl with a star-shaped birthmark.

"They were partners," Kaelen said. "But my father grew greedy. He didn't want to share the city. So he ordered the hit. I was ten years old, Ivy. I was supposed to make sure no one got out of that house."

My breath hitched. The memory from my dreams-the fire, the smoke, the screaming. "But you didn't."

"I found you hiding under the piano," Kaelen whispered. "You were so small. You weren't crying. You just held out your hand to me. I couldn't do it. I couldn't let you die."

"You saved me," I realized. "You've been protecting me this whole time."

Kaelen stood up, his face hardening again. "I didn't save you to be a hero. I saved you because I knew one day, you'd be the only thing that could destroy my father. And now that day is here."

He looked at the door. "Get some rest, Ivy. Tomorrow, we go to the Romanov territory. We're going to show them that you aren't a prize. You're a Volkov."

As he walked away, I looked at the photo in my hand. I wasn't just a cellist anymore. I was a weapon in a war I didn't understand. And the man I was falling for was the same man who was supposed to kill me.