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THE ENFORCER'S SILENT DEBT Novel Cover

THE ENFORCER'S SILENT DEBT

was a witness to a murder I wasn't supposed to see. I expected a bullet; I got a golden cage." Ivy Thorne is a nobody-a struggling cellist with a mountain of medical bills and a past she can't remember. Her life changes in a heartbeat when she witnesses Kaelen Volkov, the Mafia's most lethal enforcer, executing a traitor in a dark alley. She should be dead. But Kaelen doesn't pull the trigger. Instead, he sees the star-shaped birthmark on her neck and makes a choice that will ignite a war. To save her from his father's wrath, he claims her as his own. Now, Ivy is trapped in a world of blood and silk, forced to play the role of Kaelen's devoted fiancée. He's cold, scarred, and dangerous, yet he treats her like a priceless treasure he's been waiting years to reclaim. As the lines between her fear and her desire begin to blur, Ivy realizes that Kaelen isn't just protecting her from the Mafia-he's hiding a secret about her past that could shatter her world. In the Volkov empire, loyalty is everything and debt is paid in blood. But for Ivy, the highest price might be her heart.
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Chapter 8

The study was dark, lit only by a fire crackling in the hearth and a single lamp on the Don's obsidian desk. Viktor Volkov sat there, a glass of dark liquid in one hand and a manila folder in the other. He didn't look up when we entered. He just stared at the papers, his face unreadable.

My heart was beating so hard I was sure he could hear it. I felt the weight of the gun against my hip, a small comfort in a room that felt like a tomb.

"Sit," Viktor said. It wasn't a request.

Kaelen led me to one of the leather chairs. He didn't sit. He stood behind me, his hands resting on the back of my chair. I could feel the tension radiating off him. He was a predator waiting for the signal to strike.

Viktor finally looked up. He tossed the folder onto the desk. It slid across the polished wood, stopping right in front of me.

"I'm an old man, Kaelen," Viktor began, his voice raspy. "But I didn't get this old by being stupid. You thought you were clever, swapping the blood samples at the lab. You forget that I own the doctors, but I also own the men who watch the doctors."

I felt the blood drain from my face. Kaelen's grip on the chair tightened until I heard the wood creak.

"Father-" Kaelen started, his voice a low warning.

"Silence!" Viktor roared, slamming his fist on the desk. He stood up, leaning over the table to glare at me. "I knew the moment I saw her neck. That star. It haunted my dreams for fifteen years. Silas Thorne was my brother in everything but blood, and I watched his house burn to ash. I thought I had erased his line forever."

He opened the folder. Inside was a lab report with a red "MATCH" stamp across the top.

"The DNA doesn't lie," Viktor hissed. "She is his. She is the Thorne heir. The 'Little Bird' I let slip through the cracks."

The air in the room turned ice-cold. I reached for the gun under my blazer, my fingers brushing the grip. One shot. That was all I needed. But if I missed, Kaelen and I were dead.

"So what now?" I asked. My voice didn't shake. I surprised myself with how steady I sounded. "You killed my father. You burned my home. Are you going to finish the job, or are you going to keep talking?"

Viktor's eyes widened slightly. A twisted, yellow-toothed smile grew on his face. "She has his fire. Silas was always too brave for his own good."

He turned his gaze to Kaelen. "And you. My own son. You've been lying to me for fifteen years. You saved her. You fed her. You hid her right under my nose. Do you have any idea what the penalty for treason is?"

Kaelen stepped around the chair, putting himself between me and his father. He didn't draw his weapon, but he looked ready to tear the room apart. "I didn't save her for treason, Father. I saved her because she is the key. You want the Thorne loyalists to stop fighting us? You want the city to finally accept the Volkov name? Then you need her."

Viktor paused, his eyes narrowing. "Explain."

"The streets still scream for the Thornes," Kaelen said, his voice cold and calculating. "If you kill her, you make her a martyr. The war will never end. but if she marries into this family? If the Thorne heir becomes a Volkov? Then the Thorne legacy belongs to us. The city will finally be silent."

I stared at Kaelen's back. Was this the plan? Was I just a political tool to him? My chest ached at the thought.

Viktor looked from Kaelen to me, then back again. He picked up his drink and took a slow sip. "A marriage of blood. To unite the two greatest houses this city has ever known."

He walked around the desk, stopping in front of us. He reached out and tilted my chin up with his cold, dry fingers. "You will marry him. Not for love, and not for a 'fake' show. You will marry him in the cathedral, in front of the whole city. You will give him an heir. And if you ever try to run, I won't kill you, Ivy. I'll kill that brother of yours in his hospital bed while you watch."

He let go of me and looked at Kaelen. "The wedding is in two weeks. Until then, she doesn't leave this house without a dozen guards. If she disappears, Kaelen, I'll have your head on a pike."

Viktor turned his back on us, a signal that we were dismissed.

We walked out of the study in silence. My head was spinning. I was no longer a witness. I was a bride-to-be in a wedding that was actually a death sentence.

When we got back to my room, Kaelen shut the door and locked it. I turned on him immediately, my heart full of hurt and anger.

"Is that all I am?" I demanded. "A 'key' to your father's empire? Was that why you saved me fifteen years ago? Just to wait until I was old enough to be a pawn?"

Kaelen grabbed my shoulders, his eyes desperate. "Ivy, look at me. I had to say that. It was the only way he wouldn't kill you the second he saw that report. I gave him a reason to keep you alive."

"By selling me into a life I never wanted?" I shouted, tears stinging my eyes. "I'm a prisoner, Kaelen! Just with a more expensive ring!"

Kaelen didn't argue. Instead, he did the one thing I didn't expect. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. It wasn't the slow, teasing kiss from before. It was hard, desperate, and full of a hunger that terrified me.

For a second, I fought him. Then, my strength gave out, and I melted into him. I gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, letting out a sob against his lips. In this world of lies and blood, his touch was the only thing that felt like home.

He pulled back just an inch, his forehead resting against mine. "We have two weeks," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. "Two weeks to find a way to kill him before we reach that altar. Are you with me?"

I looked into his eyes-the eyes of the boy who saved me, and the man who was ready to burn the world for me.

"I'm with you," I whispered. "Until the end."

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