Chapter 7 - THE SHADOWS LENGTHEN
The ride back to my apartment was silent.
I spent the entire night tossing and turning in bed.
Mikhail’s words echoed in my mind repeatedly.
I will not let them touch a single hair on your head.
Part of me was terrified.
Involving myself with a man like Mikhail Volkov was walking directly into a storm.
He was dangerous.
He was powerful.
He was a man who lived by the gun and the blade.
Yet, when I remembered how tenderly he held his son...
How gently he had touched my hair...
I felt a dangerous pull toward him.
The next morning, I arrived at the diner early.
The sun was barely rising over the Chicago skyline.
I unlocked the front door, turned on the lights, and started brewing fresh coffee.
Around eight in the morning, Marco arrived.
"How was your night?" he asked nervously, looking around as if guards were hiding in the corners.
"It was... surprising," I answered truthfully.
Before I could explain further, the heavy glass door rattled loudly.
Someone was banging on it from the outside.
I looked up.
Standing outside were three men in heavy leather jackets.
My heart sank.
It was Liam O'Connor's men.
The loan sharks.
Marco immediately took a step back, his face draining of color.
"Elena... don't open it," he whispered in a panic.
I swallowed my fear and walked over to unlock the door.
The heavy door swung open.
The leader of the group, a burly man with a scarred neck named Frank, pushed his way inside.
"Morning, sweetheart," Frank sneered, looking around the empty diner.
"You're late on this month's interest."
"I have two more days," I said, keeping my voice firm despite my pounding heart.
"The agreement was the fifteenth."
"Agreement changed," Frank said, stepping closer and leaning over the counter.
"Boss wants the full payment."
"Not just the interest."
"He wants fifty grand by tonight."
"Fifty thousand?!" I exclaimed. "That’s impossible! That wasn't our deal!"
Frank grinned wickedly, revealing a yellowed tooth.
"Deals change when you start getting visits from black SUVs, Elena."
"We saw Volkov's men hanging around here yesterday."
"If you're doing business with the Russians, you can afford to pay us."
"Or maybe..." Frank reached out, his heavy hand reaching toward my chin.
"Maybe you can pay us in other ways."
May you like
"Don't touch her," a cold, sharp voice echoed from the doorway.
---
