CHAPTER 5: MARK OF THE PHANTOM

POV ESMERAY

I had exactly ten minutes to process the ghost of Ruan’s touch before the door swung open again. This time, it wasn't Ruan. It was a man I hadn’t seen before—tall, with a jagged scar running through his lip and a vest that identified him as the ‘Vice President.’

—Move it, sunshine. Prez wants you downstairs. And don't make me drag you— he barked, his eyes scanning me with a cold indifference that made me shiver.

I didn't argue. I had learned quickly that in The Vault, silence was my only armor. I followed him down the creaky stairs, my heart drumming against my ribs. The clubhouse was louder now, the air thick with the smell of stale beer, heavy exhaust, and the underlying tension of an impending storm.

When we reached the main hall, the sea of leather and denim parted. Ruan was standing by the pool table, a glass of amber liquid in one hand and his other resting casually on the hilt of a knife tucked into his belt. He had changed into a fresh black shirt, but the way he moved—stiffly, cautiously—reminded me of the stitches I had just sewn into his skin.

He looked up as I approached, his steel-blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the rest of the room fade away.

—Come here, Esmeray— he commanded. It wasn't a request.

I walked toward him, feeling the weight of dozens of predatory gazes on my back. When I reached him, he didn't say a word. He simply reached out, grabbed my waist, and pulled me flush against his side. The heat of his body was a shock to my system, a reminder of the intimacy we had shared in the silence of his room.

—Listen up!— Ruan’s voice boomed, silencing the room instantly. —The Vipers think they can dictate terms because they want the girl. They think they can bleed us at the docks and walk away.

He tightened his grip on my hip, his fingers digging into my skin.

—But this girl isn't a witness anymore. She’s not a liability. She belongs to the Steel Phantoms. She belongs to me. Anyone who thinks they can take her, anyone who thinks they can negotiate for her head... they deal with my blade first.

A roar of approval went up from the men, a guttural sound of bikes and brotherhood. But before the echoes could die down, the heavy iron doors of the clubhouse were kicked open.

The atmosphere shifted from celebratory to lethal in a heartbeat. A group of men in green and black vests—The Vipers—stepped inside, led by a man whose eyes were as yellow and venomous as the snake on his back.

—Montague!— the leader spat, his hand hovering over the holster at his hip. —Give us the girl and we forget the blood at the docks. She saw what she shouldn't have. You know the laws of the road. Witnesses don't get to live.

Ruan didn't flinch. He didn't even let go of me. Instead, he pulled me closer, forcing me to tuck my head under his chin. I could hear his heart beating—slow, steady, and utterly cold.

—The laws of the road say that what I claim is mine, Silas— Ruan’s voice was a low, dangerous growl. —And I’ve claimed her.

Silas laughed, a dry, rasping sound. —You’d start a war over a piece of hospital trash? She’s a civilian, Ruan. She’s nothing.

The word 'nothing' stung, but Ruan’s reaction was swifter. In a move so fast the eye could barely follow, he drew a heavy chrome revolver from behind his back and aimed it directly at Silas’s forehead. Simultaneously, thirty other Phantoms drew their weapons, the sound of cocking hammers filling the room like a choir of death.

—She’s the woman who saved my life today— Ruan whispered, the silence in the room so thick you could hear the rain hitting the roof. —And she’s the woman I’ll burn this city down for. Now, get out of my house before I decide your vest looks better soaked in red.

The tension was a physical weight, a thin thread ready to snap. For a long, agonizing minute, Silas stared into Ruan’s eyes, looking for a flicker of doubt. He found none. With a hissed curse, Silas signaled his men to retreat.

—This isn't over, Montague. You can't keep her in that cage forever. Eventually, she’ll have to come out for air... and we’ll be waiting.

As the Vipers retreated and the doors slammed shut, the clubhouse erupted into chaos once more, but Ruan didn't move. He kept his arm around me, his chest heaving slightly. I looked up at him, my breath trembling.

—You’re going to start a war for me?— I whispered, my voice lost in the roar of the crowd.

Ruan looked down at me, his expression unreadable. He reached out, his thumb grazing my lower lip, his touch a mixture of possessiveness and something darker, something I couldn't yet name.

—I didn't do it for you, Esmeray— he lied, his eyes burning into mine. —I did it because no one takes what belongs to me.

He leaned down, his lips inches from mine, his scent of leather and danger overwhelming my senses.

—Now, get back upstairs. The war hasn't started yet, but the peace is officially dead. And in this world, the only safe place for you... is in my shadow.

He let go of me abruptly, turning back to his men as if I hadn't just felt his heart racing against mine. I stood there, amidst the leather and the smoke, realizing that I wasn't just a prisoner anymore. I was the spark that was going to set Blackridge on fire.