Sera's POV
Glass crunched under my feet as the gunfire stopped.
The four dangerous men crouched around me like human shields, their guns pointed at the shattered windows. My ears rang from the noise. Smoke filled my flower shop, making everything look like a nightmare.
"Clear," the quiet one whispered.
"For now," the tall man said. His gray eyes scanned the street through the broken glass. "Move. Now."
"Wait!" I grabbed his arm. "Who was shooting at us?"
He looked down at my hand on his expensive suit, then back at my face. "Someone who wants you dead more than we want you alive."
The words hit me like ice water. "Dead? Why would anyone want to kill me?"
"That's what we're going to find out," he said. "After we get somewhere safe."
"I'm not going anywhere with you people!"
The Russian one laughed, but it wasn't funny. "Little flower girl thinks she has a choice."
"My name is Sera, not flower girl," I snapped.
"Feisty," the big Italian one said. "I like that."
The tall man held up his hand. "Enough. We don't have time for games." He turned to me. "My name is Alexander Moretti. These are my associates."
He pointed to the Russian. "Nikolai Kozlov."
The big Italian. "Valentino DeLuca."
The quiet one who moved like a ghost. "Phoenix Sterling."
"Great," I said. "Now I know who's kidnapping me."
"We're not kidnapping you," Alexander said calmly. "We're collecting what's owed to us."
"I don't owe you anything!"
"Your father does."
The words made my stomach twist. "How much?"
"One million dollars."
I laughed. Actually laughed. "That's crazy. My dad sells insurance. He drives a fifteen-year-old Honda. He clips coupons from the Sunday paper."
"He also gambles," Nikolai said, his smile getting wider. "High-stakes poker. Horse racing. Sports betting."
"You're lying."
"Two hundred and fifty thousand to each of us," Valentino said. "All borrowed in the last six months."
My legs felt weak. "For what?"
"Bad bets," Phoenix said quietly. "Very bad bets."
I sank onto my shop stool, my head spinning. Dad gambling was nothing new. Five dollars on a football game. Ten dollars on a horse race. But a million dollars?
"He wouldn't," I whispered.
"He did," Alexander said. Not mean, just factual. "And then he disappeared."
"What do you mean disappeared?"
"Three days ago," Nikolai explained. "Supposed to meet us with the money. Never showed up. Phone goes straight to voicemail."
That's when everything clicked. Dad's weird goodbye. The way he hugged me too long. The fear in his eyes.
"He knew," I realized. "He knew you were coming for him."
"Smart girl," Valentino said.
"But he left me here!" Anger burned in my chest. Hot and bright. "He knew you'd come for me, and he left me here anyway!"
The four men exchanged looks.
"Family loyalty isn't what it used to be," Alexander said softly.
I wanted to hit something. Scream. Cry. Instead, I just sat there feeling stupid and abandoned and scared.
"So what happens now?" I asked.
"Now you come with us," Alexander said. "Until your father pays what he owes."
"And if he doesn't pay?"
The silence that followed was worse than any threat.
"I could call the police," I said.
Nikolai laughed again. "And tell them what? That your father borrowed money from us legally and now owes a debt?"
"Kidnapping isn't legal!"
"Who's being kidnapped?" Phoenix asked quietly. "You're coming with us willingly to help resolve your father's debt."
"I am not coming willingly!"
"Then we'll make it look like you are," Valentino said simply.
My heart hammered against my ribs. These weren't normal criminals. These were professionals. Smart ones.
"How long?" I whispered.
"Thirty days," Alexander said. "Your father has thirty days to come up with the money."
"And if he doesn't?"
Another terrible silence.
I looked around my flower shop. The broken glass. The scattered lilies. The life I'd built for myself after Mom died. All of it was about to disappear because of Dad's lies.
"I need to pack some things," I said.
"No time," Phoenix said, looking out the window. "We need to move. Now."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"More cars," he said quietly. "Black ones. Coming fast."
Alexander cursed under his breath. "How did they find us so quickly?"
"Find who?" I demanded.
Instead of answering, he grabbed my arm. "Back exit. Move."
We ran through my shop toward the rear door. Behind us, car doors slammed in the street. Footsteps. Shouting.
"This way," Valentino said, pushing open the back door.
The alley was empty except for trash cans and a stray cat. We rushed toward the street at the other end, but more black cars blocked our path.
We were trapped.
"Warehouse," Nikolai said, pointing to a fire escape ladder. "Up."
Alexander pushed me toward the ladder. "Climb. Fast."
My hands shook as I grabbed the rusty metal rungs. Behind me, I could hear the four men arguing in whispers.
"They knew exactly where to find us," Phoenix said.
"Inside information," Valentino agreed.
"Which means we have a problem," Alexander concluded.
I reached the roof and turned back to help them up. "What kind of problem?"
Alexander's gray eyes met mine, and I saw something that scared me more than the guns or the threats or the million-dollar debt.
I saw fear.
"Someone in our organization," he said quietly, "is working with our enemies."
"What enemies?"
Before he could answer, the sound of helicopters filled the air. Military helicopters. Big ones. Coming straight for us.
"Run," Alexander said.
But there was nowhere left to run.
That's when I saw them. Men rappelling down from the helicopters. Dressed in black. Carrying weapons I'd only seen in war movies.
They weren't here to arrest us.
They were here to kill us.
"I don't have a million dollars," I whispered as we backed toward the edge of the roof.
"We know," Phoenix said quietly, raising his gun toward the helicopters. "That's why you're coming with us."
The first helicopter opened fire.
And I realized that my father's debt was the least of my problems.
Someone wanted me dead.
The question was: who?