Chapter 5 Blood Debts

The first assassination attempt came three hours after the marriage.

Ava felt it before she saw it-the faint pressure change in the air, the way the night seemed to hold its breath. Years of combat had trained her nervous system to recognize death approaching long before it arrived.

She stopped mid-step on the balcony of Drake Tower.

"Down," she said quietly.

Lucien moved without question. The crack of a suppressed rifle split the dark a heartbeat later, the round slicing past where his head had been a fraction of a second earlier. Ava was already in motion. She pivoted, rolled, and came up with her pistol drawn, eyes locked on the opposing rooftop.

She caught the glint of the scope.

One controlled breath.

She fired.

The sniper dropped instantly, the body tumbling over the ledge and vanishing into the void below. Ava didn't wait to confirm the kill. She was already moving again.

"Second shooter," she said into her comm. "South stairwell. Professional."

The stairwell door exploded inward as Ava kicked it open. The assassin inside barely had time to raise his weapon before Ava closed the distance. She broke his wrist with a sharp twist, disarmed him, and drove her elbow into his throat. Bone cracked. He collapsed.

Ava knelt beside him, eyes cold.

"Who sent you?" she asked.

He spat blood.

Ava shot him through the knee.

"Wrong answer."

Lucien appeared behind her, his presence steady and lethal. "Enough," he said. "He won't survive interrogation."

"He doesn't need to," Ava replied.

She ended it with a single shot.

More gunfire erupted below. Lucien's guards engaged a third team attempting to breach the perimeter. Ava moved like she belonged there-issuing commands, redirecting units, sealing exits. Within minutes, the assault was over.

Bodies lay scattered.

Silence returned.

Lucien studied the aftermath with calm satisfaction. "They wanted to test you."

Ava wiped blood from her knuckles. "Then they failed."

Lucien took her hand-not gently, but with unmistakable possession.

"This was your wedding night," he said. "And you chose war."

Ava met his gaze, unwavering.

"I always do."

Far below, sirens wailed.

The underworld had just learned a new rule.

Touch Lucien Drake's wife-and die.