The morning after my first job for the syndicate, I woke with an unfamiliar heaviness in my chest. The knowledge of what I had done—and what I had agreed to do—clung to me like a shadow. It wasn't just the job itself that haunted me; it was the realization that this was my new reality. The only way to protect Rose was to keep stepping deeper into their world.
Elise, as usual, was cheerful and unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. She prepared breakfast, humming softly to herself. "Daniel, can you help set the table?" she called out.
"Sure," I said, forcing a smile. I moved mechanically, my mind elsewhere, until Elise's voice pulled me back.
"Where's Rose?" she asked, looking toward the hallway. "She hasn't come out yet."
"She probably had a late night," I said quickly, hoping to deflect.
Elise frowned. "She needs to start taking care of herself. I know she's been through a lot, but this isn't healthy."
I nodded, not trusting myself to say more. Elise's concern was genuine, but she had no idea how deep Rose's troubles ran—or how far I was willing to go to keep her safe.
Rose finally emerged later in the day, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion. She poured herself a cup of coffee, avoiding Elise's probing gaze.
"You didn't join us for breakfast," Elise said gently.
"I wasn't hungry," Rose replied curtly.
Elise sighed, her patience wearing thin. "Rose, I know you're struggling, but shutting us out isn't the answer. We're family."
Rose's lips pressed into a thin line. "Family," she echoed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Right."
"Rose—" I started, but she cut me off with a sharp look.
"Don't," she said. "Just don't."
She stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Elise looking hurt and confused. I wanted to go after her, to say something that would ease the tension, but I knew it wouldn't work. Rose was carrying too much, and I was just starting to understand the weight of it.
That evening, Leo called again. "Got another job for you," he said, his tone brisk. "You up for it?"
"Do I have a choice?" I replied.
He chuckled. "Not really. Meet me at the usual spot."
This time, the task was more complex: retrieve a briefcase from a hotel downtown and deliver it to a different contact. Leo's instructions were clear—don't ask questions, don't draw attention, and don't screw up.
As I walked through the grand lobby of the hotel, the weight of what I was doing hit me again. I was playing a dangerous game, and every step I took felt like another crack in the life I'd once known. But I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.
The briefcase exchange went smoothly, but as I left the hotel, I noticed a black car idling at the curb. The windows were tinted, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I felt eyes on me. I quickened my pace, ducking into a nearby alley and taking a roundabout route back to my car.
When I finally delivered the briefcase, my contact—another imposing figure with a no-nonsense demeanor—gave me a curt nod. "You're efficient," he said. "We'll keep that in mind."
Back at home, I found Rose sitting on the porch, staring out into the night. She didn't look up as I approached.
"Long day?" I asked, sitting beside her.
She scoffed. "That's one way to put it."
We sat in silence for a while, the tension between us thick but unspoken. Finally, she broke the quiet.
"Why are you doing this, Daniel?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"For you," I said simply.
She turned to face me, her eyes searching mine. "You shouldn't have to. This isn't your fight."
"It is now," I said firmly. "You're not alone in this, Rose. Whether you like it or not, I'm not letting you face this on your own."
Her expression softened, and for a moment, I thought she might argue. But instead, she nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.
That night, I couldn't sleep. The weight of my choices pressed down on me, and for the first time, I wondered if I was strong enough to see this through. The syndicate was ruthless, and every move I made felt like walking a tightrope over a pit of fire.
But as I lay awake, I thought of Rose—of the fear she tried so hard to hide, and the vulnerability she only showed when she thought no one was looking. She deserved a chance to start over, free from the shadows of her past. And I was willing to risk everything to give her that chance.
I just hoped it wouldn't cost me my soul.