der through the quiet office. Her mind was still ringing with Teddy's words-Take the money and disappear... I'll see you in court-his accusations cutting deeper than any i

at a roadside stall tucked between a laundromat and a convenience store, the kind that sold cold drinks and packaged snacks out of a small metal cart. The vendor-a kind-faced old man she'd known since she was a child-handed her a cold bottle of soda without being asked, his eyes filled with concern. "Rough day, little one?" he asked softly. Mira nodded, pulling out a few crumpled bills from her pocket. He waved her off, shaking his head. "On the house," he said. "Sometimes we all need something cold to steady us." She took a long sip, the sharp fizz burning her tongue and throat, hoping the sensation would steady her nerves. It didn't. The cold only made her feel more hollow inside. She kept walking, turning down a narrow alley that cut through to the main road-shorter than going around, and she just wanted to be anywhere but where she'd been. The alley was dark and quiet, lined with dumpsters and stacked cardboard boxes, the only light coming from a single flickering streetlamp at the end. "Mira Sharma." Her steps froze. The voice was low, gravelly, and dangerous-she'd know it anywhere. It had haunted her dreams for over a year, waking her up in cold sweats with the weight of her father's debt pressing down on her. Slowly, she turned. The man standing a few feet away was unmistakable-six feet tall, broad-shouldered, with a scar cutting through his left eyebrow and eyes that were cold as stone. He was dressed in dark jeans and a leather jacket, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared at her with a look that made her skin crawl. Her father's creditor. Viktor Kozlov. Panic surged through her, hot and sharp. She immediately turned to go the other way- Only to find another man stepping out from behind a stack of pallets, blocking her path. This one was bigger, bulkier, with knuckles scarred from fights and a smile that promised nothing good. Her heart began to race, beating so hard she was sure they could hear it. "Didn't you say you'd pay me back?" Viktor said, his tone turning harsh as he stepped closer, his boots crunching on the gravel beneath his feet. "Three months ago, you promised me half by now. Where's my money?" "I-I'm still trying to raise it," Mira stammered, her voice shaking as she pressed herself against the brick wall behind her. "Please... just give me a little more time. I'm so close-I just need another month-" "Time?" he scoffed, laughing a sound like breaking glass. "You think I run a charity? Your father owed me five hundred thousand dollars-money he borrowed to fund his stupid little business that never stood a chance. He's dead, his wife's dead-so the debt falls to you." "I've taken part-time jobs," she continued quickly, her eyes darting between them as the second man moved closer, cutting off any chance of escape. "I work at the café on weekends, I do freelance data entry at night-I'm doing everything I can. As soon as I have enough, I'll pay you back-I promise." The men exchanged looks. Then they smiled. But there was nothing kind in it. "You won't earn that kind of money with part-time jobs, sweetheart," Viktor said slowly, stepping closer until she could smell the cigarettes and whiskey on his breath. "Why don't you come with me instead? I know some gentlemen who'd pay good money for a girl like you." His accomplice chuckled darkly, cracking his knuckles as he moved to stand beside him. "Let the guys have some fun. You'll clear that five hundred thousand debt in no time-maybe even have some left over for yourself." Mira's back hit the wall, cold brick pressing against her shoulders as the man reached out and grabbed her arm, his grip tight enough to bruise as he pinned her in place. "No-please-let me go!" she cried, struggling against his hold but unable to break free. "I'll get you the money-I swear-" "Let her go." The voice cut through the alley like a blade-clear, sharp, and unmistakable. All three turned. From the shadows at the end of the alley, a figure stepped forward. Tall. Composed. Impeccably dressed in a dark navy suit that looked expensive even in the dim light, his tie perfectly knotted, his shoes polished to a high shine. Teddy. Mira's eyes widened in shock, tears welling in them as she stared at him. She'd thought she'd never see him again-not after what he'd said, not after how he'd accused her. The creditor narrowed his gaze, letting go of Mira's arm as he stepped back slightly. "Who the hell are you?" Teddy didn't answer. He simply walked forward-his movements calm, deliberate, each step carrying the weight of someone who was used to being obeyed- And threw a punch. It landed hard, square on Viktor's jaw, sending him staggering back with a grunt of pain. He crashed into his accomplice, knocking