His Rotten Vow

Sara snapped awake, gasping for air. Her hand flew to her chest, clawing at her shirt as she struggled to force oxygen into her burning lungs. Cold sweat slicked her temples. The nightmare from fourteen years ago was back, unraveling her completely.

​She doubled over, a hacking cough wracking her frame. It was the permanent toll of the smoke she had inhaled to save a boy from the inferno all those years ago.

​In the dim room, her trembling hand fumbled across the nightstand, snatching her inhaler. She took a deep, shaky breath. Once her heart rate steadied, she looked around the cramped, stale room.

​This tenement was the silent witness to her family's ruin. Her bravery a decade ago had cost them everything.

​Her father’s business had gone under, bled dry by his desperate, years-long search for Maya, the younger sister who had vanished the same night. Now, the man who had once been a titan lay frail on the bed across the room. Broken by an old gunshot wound and the weight of his own guilt.

“Sara...?” His raspy voice cut through the silence.

​Sara wiped the sweat from her brow, forcing a mask of calm as she moved to his side. “I’m here, Dad. Time for your medicine.”

​She helped him sit, holding out a glass of water and a few pills. But just as the glass neared his lips, a deafening crash shook the room.

​BANG!

​The front door splintered inward, collapsing into a heap of wreckage.

She flinched. The glass slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor. Before she could process the chaos, heavy footsteps thundered inside.

​A man stepped through the dust. He was imposing, wrapped in a sharp, expensive black suit. His face was striking, a defined jaw, a bone-chilling-expression, and his dark eyes locked onto hers with the raw intensity of a predator cornering its prey.

​Sara had never seen him before, but he radiated danger. Behind him, several men in matching suits filled the doorway, cutting off any hope of escape.

“Who are you?” She stepped in front of her father, arms spread wide, trying to be a shield.

​The stranger didn't speak. His movements were calm and measured as he reached inside his suit jacket.

​In a heartbeat, a semi-automatic pistol was in his grip. Without a second's hesitation, he trained the weapon at her father, who had gone pale with terror.

​Sara stopped breathing. The echo of gunfire from the past roared in her head. She remembered that night—how her father had taken a bullet for a boy she had tried to save, and the sister who had disappeared without a trace.

​Click.

​The sound of the safety being disengaged froze her blood.

“I'm not a patient man.” His voice was low, slow, and dripping with malice. He tossed a thick folder onto the mattress at Sara’s feet.

Sara glanced down. Her heart hammered against her ribs. “What is that?”

He looked at her then. His gaze burned with raw, unexplained hatred.

“A marriage contract.” His lips curled into a cold smirk. “You have two choices. Sign the paper and come with me, or…”

​He closed the distance in two long strides. He pressed the cold muzzle of the gun under her chin, forcing her head up and meet his eyes.

“...or I’ll blow that useless old man’s brains out right in front of you.”