Chapter 11 - The First Threat

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Viktor Volkov looked at Ellie with casual amusement, the way a butcher might look at a lamb.

“You must be the heroic Ellie,” Viktor purred, a thick Russian accent coloring his words. “Such a brave girl. It is a shame about the violence at the gala. Children should be kept safe.”

It wasn’t a pleasantry. It was a direct, unapologetic threat.

Jack stepped slightly in front of Ellie, blocking Viktor’s line of sight. “My son is perfectly safe, Viktor. You should worry about your own assets. I hear the shipping lanes on the East side have been quite volatile lately.”

Viktor’s smile tightened. Jack had clearly retaliated against his business.

“Volatility is part of the game, Jack. But games eventually end.” Viktor nodded politely to Ellie. “A pleasure, Mrs. Callahan. I hope your recovery is... permanent.”

As Viktor walked away, Ellie felt her knees threaten to buckle. Jack caught her instantly, his strong arm holding her completely steady against his side.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered fiercely. “He won’t touch you.”

“He ordered it,” she breathed, looking at the retreating figure. “He tried to kill a six-year-old.”

“And I am going to bury him for it,” Jack promised, his voice carrying a lethal certainty that made Ellie shiver. “But not tonight. Tonight, we smile.”

For the rest of the evening, Jack didn’t leave her side for a single second. He introduced her to senators, business moguls, and socialites. He played the deeply in-love husband flawlessly, brushing his lips against her temple, his hand always touching her.

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But as they rode back to the penthouse in the silent, armored SUV, Ellie looked at him in the dim streetlights. The facade had dropped. Jack looked exhausted, carrying the weight of a war he was desperately trying to keep her out of.

She reached across the leather seat and, for the first time, took his hand voluntarily. Jack looked down at her fingers intertwined with his, a strange, vulnerable look crossing his hardened features. He didn’t pull away.