I didn't sleep.
How could I?
The room was too quiet. Too soft. Too safe.
And that made it worse.
I stood by the balcony at 2:17 a.m., staring at the city lights below. Somewhere out there was the life I knew.
Or thought I knew.
My father's laugh echoed in my head.
He wasn't innocent.
I refused to believe that.
A sharp sound broke the silence.
Not loud.
But wrong.
I froze.
Another sound.
This time closer.
Like metal shifting.
My heart began to pound.
I stepped away from the balcony slowly.
Then....
A distant shout.
Gunshot.
The sound exploded through the night.
I flinched.
Another shot.
Then another.
Not inside the house.
Outside.
The estate.
They weren't rumors.
They weren't imaginary enemies.
They were here.
Voices echoed from downstairs. Fast. Controlled. Tactical.
Not panic.
Training.
This wasn't the first time his house had been attacked.
The bedroom door burst open.
He walked in.
Not in a suit this time.
Black shirt. Gun in hand.
Calm eyes.
"Stay inside," he ordered.
"Who is it?" I demanded.
He didn't hesitate.
"The people I warned you about."
My pulse spiked.
"You said I was safe."
"You are."
Gunfire echoed again. Closer now.
The windows vibrated slightly.
"You call this safe?"
He stepped toward me, jaw tight.
"This house is a fortress. They won't get in."
As if to test him
An explosion shook the ground.
The lights flickered.
My breath caught.
He moved instantly.
Grabbing my wrist.
Not rough.
Firm.
"Change of plan."
He pulled me into the hallway. Guards rushed past us with weapons. Voices barked orders.
This was organized.
Calculated.
Someone powerful wanted me.
Or wanted him.
We moved down a hidden staircase behind a wall panel I hadn't noticed before.
Secret exits.
Secret rooms.
How many secrets did this man have?
"Why me?" I demanded as we moved quickly.
"They're not after you," he said sharply.
"Then who?!"
He stopped at a reinforced steel door.
Turned to me.
"For leverage."
My stomach dropped.
Against him.
They were using me to get to him.
The door opened into an underground garage tunnel.
Another car waiting.
Engine already running.
He pushed me inside and slid into the driver's seat.
Gunfire echoed above us.
The tunnel door sealed shut.
The car sped forward into darkness.
I stared at him.
"This is because of you."
"Yes."
No denial.
No excuse.
"You brought this into my life."
His grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
"I kept it away from you for years."
Years.
My heart skipped.
"What does that mean?"
He didn't answer.
The tunnel exit opened miles away from the estate.
The car burst onto an empty highway.
We were alone.
City behind us.
Silence in front.
Finally, he spoke.
"They shouldn't have moved this soon."
"This soon?" I repeated.
His jaw tightened.
"You weren't supposed to find out like this."
Find out what?
"Find out what?" I pressed.
His eyes flicked to me briefly.
And for the first time
I saw something human there.
Regret.
"Your father owed a debt," he said quietly.
"And I was the one he betrayed."
The world tilted again.
"No."
"Yes."
The car sped into the night.
And suddenly, I didn't know which truth was worse.
That he killed my father.
Or that my father might have deserved it.