THE ENFORCER'S SILENT DEBT

The next morning came too fast. I hadn't slept at all. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the man with the knife or the look of pure rage on Kaelen's face.

Kaelen didn't give me time to process anything. By 8:00 AM, he was back in my room. He didn't knock. He just walked in, looking perfectly polished in a black suit as if he hadn't just beaten a man to death a few hours ago.

"Get dressed," he said. He tossed a shopping bag onto the bed. "We're going out."

I looked inside the bag. It wasn't a dress this time. It was a pair of high-end black leather pants, a silk top, and a blazer that looked like it cost more than my car.

"Where are we going?" I asked, pulling the clothes out.

"To a meeting," Kaelen said. He was cleaning his gun at the vanity table, his movements mechanical and calm. "The Romanovs think they can put a price on your head and get away with it. We're going to show them that you belong to me. And a Volkov never lets go of what's his."

I dressed quickly. My hand was still bandaged, but the pain had settled into a dull throb. When I walked out of the bathroom, Kaelen looked me up and down. For a split second, I saw a flicker of something-admiration, maybe-in his cold eyes.

"You look like you belong at my side," he said. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. His fingers were warm, and for a moment, I forgot that he was a killer. "Remember, Ivy. Don't look at the floor. Look at them like they're dirt under your shoes. If you look weak, they'll pounce."

We left the estate in a black SUV with tinted windows. Two other cars followed us, filled with guards. We drove into the heart of the city, stopping in front of a high-end social club owned by the Romanov family.

The air inside the club was thick with the smell of expensive cigars and heavy perfume. Men in suits and women in diamonds turned to stare as we walked in. Kaelen didn't slow down. He gripped my waist, pulling me close to his side as we walked toward the back of the club.

A large man with a scarred face blocked our path. "Volkov. You weren't invited."

Kaelen didn't even blink. "I don't need an invitation to my own funeral, and I certainly don't need one to yours. Move."

The man looked at Kaelen, then at the guards behind us. He stepped aside.

We entered a private lounge. Sitting on a velvet sofa was a man in his fifties with greasy hair and a mean smile. This was Grigory Romanov.

"Kaelen," Grigory said, spreading his arms wide. "I heard you found a new toy. I didn't believe the rumors until I saw her. She's much prettier than the bounty hunters described."

Kaelen sat down in a chair opposite him, pulling me onto his lap. It was a bold, possessive move that caught me off guard, but I remembered what he said. I didn't flinch. I sat tall, resting my hand-the one with the massive diamond-on his shoulder.

"She's not a toy, Grigory," Kaelen said, his voice like ice. "She's my fiancée. And you put a million-dollar hit on her. That's a very expensive mistake."

Grigory laughed. "Is it? Your father wants her dead, Kaelen. Everyone knows it. I'm just trying to do the old man a favor. Besides, why do you care about some girl from the streets?"

"She's not from the streets," I said. My voice was surprisingly steady.

Both men looked at me. Kaelen's grip on my waist tightened, but he didn't stop me.

I looked Grigory right in the eye, just like Kaelen had taught me. "I am Ivy Thorne. My father was Silas Thorne. And if you think a million dollars is enough to buy my life, you're even poorer than I thought."

The room went silent. Grigory's smile vanished. The name 'Thorne' still had power in this city, and he knew it. If the daughter of the city's most respected boss was back, the rules of the game had changed.

"Silas Thorne is dead," Grigory hissed.

"His legacy isn't," Kaelen added, leaning forward. He placed his hand over mine on his shoulder. "I'm taking over the Volkov empire, Grigory. And Ivy is going to be sitting right next to me. If another one of your men comes within a mile of her, I won't just kill him. I'll burn this club down with you inside it."

Kaelen stood up, pulling me with him. We walked out of the club without looking back. The silence we left behind felt like the calm before a storm.

Once we were back in the car, the adrenaline finally hit me. I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window. "They're going to kill us, aren't they?"

Kaelen looked at me. He reached out and took my bandaged hand, kissing the palm gently. "They're going to try. but they'll have to go through me first."

"Why did you let me tell him who I am?" I asked. "You said we had to keep it a secret."

"Because a secret makes you a victim," Kaelen said, his eyes glowing with a strange fire. "A name makes you a queen. If we're going to survive my father, we need the city to be on our side. And the city still loves your father."

He pulled me closer, resting his chin on top of my head. "You did well today, Little Bird. You've officially started a war."

I closed my eyes. I had started as a cellist, a girl who lived in the shadows. Now, I was the face of a revolution. I didn't know if I would survive the night, but as I felt Kaelen's heart beating against my back, I realized I didn't want to be anywhere else.