Chapter 2 - The Bullet and the Pact
The sound of gunfire shattered the night.
Glass cascaded onto the floor like falling ice as two men in dark tactical gear burst through the shattered storefront, weapon muzzles glowing in the dim light. They weren't looking for money; their eyes were locked directly on the little girl in Viktor’s arms.
“Get down!” Viktor roared, spinning around to shield Sophie with his own body as his bodyguards immediately drew their weapons, returning fire with deafening precision.
The bakery erupted into absolute chaos. Customers shrieked, diving under wooden tables, while the bakery manager bolted toward the kitchen doors.
Amidst the blinding chaos, one gunman managed to flank Viktor’s blind side from near the counter. He raised a silenced pistol, aiming directly at the exposed back of Sophie’s head as Viktor was occupied suppressing the gunman near the entrance.
Emma didn't calculate the risk. She didn't think about her bakery, her quiet life, or the terrifying reputation of the men in the room. She only saw the little girl who had laughed at her joke five minutes ago.
Emma threw herself forward, wrapping her body entirely around Sophie and pushing the child under the heavy oak counter.
A sharp, burning tear exploded across Emma’s left shoulder.
She gasped, the impact knocking the wind from her lungs as she slumped against the wooden floorboards, shielding Sophie beneath her body. Blood quickly bloomed across her green sweater, dark and warm.
Viktor turned just in time to see Emma absorb the bullet meant for his daughter.
A sound escaped Viktor’s throat—a guttural, ancient rage that chilled the room to absolute zero. In two blinding steps, he closed the distance, grabbed the gunman by the throat, and dispatched him with a single, brutal movement before his guards eliminated the remaining attacker.
The firing stopped as quickly as it had begun. The bakery was silent save for the smell of cordite, rain, and fresh blood.
Viktor dropped to his knees beside the counter. His hands, usually so steady when holding a weapon or signing death warrants, trembled slightly as he reached out.
Sophie was crying silently, her hands moving frantically against Emma’s chest: Emma! Emma! Help her, Papa! Help her!
Emma lay on her side, breathing in short, shallow gasps. She looked up at Viktor, her vision swimming slightly, but her eyes were still focused entirely on the child.
“Is she... is she hit?” Emma whispered, her face pale.
Viktor checked Sophie with practiced speed—no blood, no injury. He looked down at Emma, taking off his silk necktie and pressing it forcefully against the bleeding wound on her shoulder. Emma winced, a soft moan escaping her lips.
“She’s unharmed,” Viktor said, his voice raw with an emotion he hadn't felt in five years. “Because of you.”
“Good,” Emma murmured, her eyes fluttering shut. “That’s... that’s good.”
“Stay awake, Emma,” Viktor commanded, his grip tightening on her shoulder as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms, ignoring the blood staining his coat. He looked at his lead guard. “Call Dr. Vance. Lock down the estate. She comes with us.”
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“Boss,” the guard hesitated. “Bringing a civilian to the compound—”
“She took a bullet for my daughter!” Viktor shouted, his voice echoing off the broken walls. “She is under my protection now. Move!”
