Chapter 1 Wrong Door

~Vincent~

“N-no, please, Father. I don't want to marry. Don't send me away, please... I'll be good. I promise.”

Breakfast had somehow been going well, better than most days, actually. Until now. Well... maybe this was the fifth or sixth worst breakfast I'd ever had.

I sat frozen in my chair, staring at my father across the long dining table. Vangand Danio didn't look particularly bothered by my begging. He calmly cut into his breakfast as though he hadn't just told me I was being given away.

“You're marrying into the Volkov family,” he said.

My stomach twisted. “The Volkovs? Father, you can't be serious. You've heard the rumors about them. You know what people say. You can't just send me there.”

My hands trembled at the thought of being given to the devil himself. The Volkovs had a reputation that followed them everywhere. People said their leader was a psychopath who killed mostly for fun. There were stories about people who had crossed them and simply vanished, their families too terrified to ask questions.

I didn't know how much of it was true. Maybe half of it was exaggerated. But I wasn't particularly interested in finding out firsthand.

“They are powerful. An alliance with them will strengthen this family. And they're willing to settle what I owe.”

I swallowed hard. “You're selling me to pay your debts?”

He leaned back in his chair. “You know the organization was attacked by a rival syndicate. We lost men, territory, weapons, shipments... almost everything.”

His expression remained calm. “I borrowed heavily from the Volkovs to rebuild what was lost. But recovery didn't come as quickly as I expected.”

His eyes narrowed. “They want me to give up the northern shipping lanes and some of the territory I still have left, and also give up my heir to them. In exchange, they'll wipe out the debt.”

He paused. “And I sealed the deal by giving you to them, cause I couldn't give them Lucy. Now we have a truce.”

He smiled as though he'd planned everything perfectly, as though my life wasn't worth thinking twice about.

Though to him, it wasn't.

My fingers curled against my thighs beneath the table.

Across from me, Emerald Danio took a slow sip of her coffee. She was Father's wife and my stepmother, the proud lady of the house who had spent years making sure I never once forgot that I wasn't one of them.

“He's always been a burden, honey,” she said casually. “I believe you'll learn a thing or two wherever you're going.” Her words were followed by a small, satisfied smile.

“The decision is final.” Father said as he placed his knife beside his plate. The small metallic sound made me flinch.

“The wedding is in two days. You will not be allowed to leave this house until then.”

My heart dropped.

“The tailor will be here tomorrow. I expect you to behave yourself until then.”

He looked happy. The thought of finally getting rid of me seemed to bring him more happiness than anything I'd ever seen.

“And if I don't?”

My mouth moved before I could process what I'd said. I tensed instantly.

His expression changed.

“Then you'll regret it.”

I immediately looked down. He picked up his newspaper.

“You're dismissed.”

My chest tightened, and for a good two minutes, I found it hard to breathe before a giggle came from beside Emerald.

Lucy.

My stepsister and a total pain in the ass.

“Ohhh, he's going to start having those panic attacks again.”

“Lucy,” Emerald warned, though the amusement in her eyes told me she wasn't actually reprimanding her daughter.

Lucy shrugged. “I'll miss having someone to slave away. At least the stain of a bastard will finally be out of our family.”

With a loud screech, I pushed my chair back and walked out of the dining room without saying another word. Only when the heavy doors closed behind me did I breathe.

I suddenly remembered the first time I'd stepped inside the Danio mansion.

I was ten.

My mother, Christina, had spent years telling me about my father. She always spoke about him like he was someone important, someone who might one day want me.

I believed her.

By then, she'd already been thrown out of his life after he'd gotten what he wanted from her. My mother took care of me. Or maybe I took care of us.

I'd come here years ago because I needed somewhere safe.

Now I needed to leave for the same reason.

I hurried to my room and locked the door.

Running had always been the obvious answer. But the mansion was surrounded by guards, every gate monitored, and my father's men knew my face. I needed another way.

My eyes moved toward the old wooden wardrobe. I crossed the room and pushed it aside, revealing a narrow section of wall. I pressed my palm against the loose stone.

Click.

The hidden panel shifted. A tiny smile pulled at my lips. I'd discovered the tunnels months ago, and no one knew they existed except me.

I slipped inside and pulled the panel closed. I brought out my phone and switched on the flashlight.

The passage smelled of dust and damp stone. It was narrow enough that my shoulders brushed the walls as I moved.

This tunnel led out of the estate.

And eventually, to the city.

Hugh.

If anyone could help me, it was him.

I moved faster. Maybe I could disappear before the wedding. Maybe I could find somewhere my father couldn't reach.

Maybe—

I stopped when a rustling sound came from behind me. Holding my breath, I pointed my phone in that direction.

Silence.

I waited another few seconds before a tiny creature scurried across the tunnel.

I sighed. “Phew. Just a rat.”

By the time I emerged from the tunnel, the sun had begun sinking behind the buildings. I pulled my hood over my head and kept my face down as I made my way through the streets.

Eventually, the familiar neon lights of Hugh's club appeared ahead. My shoulders finally loosened.

Hugh would know what to do. He always did.

I pushed through the entrance.

Music slammed into me immediately. Red and white colored lights swept across the packed dance floor, and the smell of alcohol and smoke hung thick in the air.

Hugh spotted me almost immediately.

“Vincent?”

I dropped onto the stool in front of him.

“I'm getting married,” I choked out.

He stared at me. “What?”

“To the Volkovs.”

The smile disappeared from his face. “Wait. What the hell happened? The Volkovs are monsters.”

“My father.” I grabbed the glass he pushed toward me. “He's giving me away to settle his debt.”

Hugh leaned against the bar. “Then we get you out.”

“I don't know if I can run.”

“Why?”

I stared down into the amber liquid.

Because there was something I hadn't told Hugh. Something I'd spent years searching for.

My mother.

Her disappearance.

And the name that had appeared in the information I'd managed to uncover. A name that had followed me for years.

Volkov.

“I need to find something first,” I whispered.

Hugh's expression changed. “What?”

I opened my mouth, then stopped when a sudden noise came from the VIP hallway.

Hugh glanced over his shoulder. “I have to handle something.”

“Go.”

“Stay here.”

“I will.”

He disappeared toward the VIP stairs.

I sat alone at the bar, staring at my drink. The club suddenly felt too loud and crowded. My chest tightened.

I needed air.

I pushed away from the stool and headed toward the back hallway.

At the very end was a brass-handled door. I assumed it was the staff restroom. There wasn't even a sign.

I turned the handle. The door swung open.

The smell of cigars hit me first.

Then silence.

Five older men sat around a massive mahogany table, with armed guards lining the walls. Every head turned toward me.

One of the younger guards stepped forward. He was broad-shouldered, with a shaved head and square jaw. A flame shaped scar ran through his right eye as his hand went straight for his weapon.

“Intruder!”

Weapons cleared their holsters.

“Don't fucking move!”

My knees turned to water.

You have got to be kidding me.

I gripped the door handle just to stay upright. My hands shook violently. I couldn't breathe.

I was going to get shot right here in my best friend's club. The irony would have been almost funny if I wasn't about to die.

My gaze swept across the room in horror. Then I saw him.

The man sitting at the head of the table.

He hadn't reached for a weapon. He simply watched me, smoke curling from the cigar between his fingers.

Dark hair. A streak of silver at his temple. Broad shoulders beneath an immaculate black suit.

And eyes like a predator's, cold enough to have me straighten up.

“W-wrong door,” I choked.

Nobody moved. I stumbled backward hoping to get as far away from here as possible.

A gun roared.

I dropped low as the bullet struck the door.

Then I bolted.

I ran until I reached the bathroom, threw myself inside, and locked the door.

My back hit the wall. I slid down, struggling to breathe. With shaking hands, I grabbed my inhaler and pressed a puff into my mouth.

My hands wouldn't stop shaking.

“Get a grip.”

My voice barely came out.

I forced myself up and turned on the faucet. Cold water splashed over my face.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

Wide eyes. Pale skin. A terrified expression I hated seeing.

I wiped the water away.

“It's fine.”

I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince.

“It's just some dangerous stranger.”

But even after I'd calmed down, I couldn't shake the feeling that those predatory eyes were still watching me.

Just then, the restroom door creaked.