The Ghost Gets Orders

Rook's POV

The knife sliced through the air, missing Rook's face by an inch.

He twisted sideways and grabbed his attacker's wrist. One quick snap. The man screamed and dropped to his knees. Rook kicked him in the chest, sending him flying backward into the brick wall.

"That's what happens when you don't pay on time," Rook said quietly.

The man writhed on the ground, clutching his broken wrist. "Please... I have kids..."

Rook stared down at him with empty eyes. He had heard that excuse a thousand times. Kids. Family. Love. None of it mattered in his world.

His phone buzzed. Only one person had this number.

"Job's done," Rook answered without looking at the caller ID.

"Good. I need you back here. Now." Enzo Rossi's voice was sharp with panic.

Rook frowned. The boss never panicked. Ever. "What's wrong?"

"Not over the phone. Get to the warehouse. Alone."

The line went dead. Rook looked down at the man still groaning on the ground. "You're lucky," he said. "I have somewhere to be."

He walked away, leaving the man alive. That was new for him. Usually, there were no survivors.

The warehouse sat in the worst part of the city. Broken windows. Rust everywhere. Perfect for meetings that needed to stay secret. Rook parked his motorcycle and walked through the shadows.

Enzo waited inside, pacing like a caged animal. The powerful crime boss looked older than his fifty years. Gray hair. Deep lines around his eyes. Tonight, he looked scared.

"Boss." Rook stepped into the light.

"My daughter's in trouble."

Rook's stomach twisted. He had hoped never to hear those words. "What kind of trouble?"

"The dangerous kind." Enzo stopped pacing and faced him. "Someone tried to kill her tonight."

"Did they succeed?"

"No. She's safe. For now." Enzo's eyes were hard as stone. "I need you to keep her that way."

Rook shook his head. "Find someone else."

"There is no one else. You're the best."

"I don't do protection jobs."

"You do now."

Rook clenched his fists. "I kill people, Enzo. I don't save them."

"Same skill set, different goal."

"No." Rook turned to leave. "Get Marco to babysit your princess."

Enzo's voice cracked like a whip. "Stop."

Something in that tone made Rook freeze. He had worked for Enzo for eight years. He had never heard the boss sound desperate before.

"She found something," Enzo said quietly. "About her mother."

The words hit Rook like bullets. His chest got tight. Hard to breathe. "What did she find?"

"I don't know. But someone's willing to kill her for it." Enzo walked closer. "The same someone who killed my wife."

Rook's hands started shaking. He shoved them in his pockets so Enzo wouldn't see. "That case is closed."

"Is it?"

The question hung in the air like smoke. Rook remembered that night three years ago. The job that changed everything. The job that broke something inside him that could never be fixed.

"Why me?" Rook asked. "You have twenty other guys."

"Because you're the only one I trust with her life." Enzo's voice got softer. "And because you owe me."

"I don't owe you anything."

"Don't you?"

Rook knew what Enzo meant. The boss had found him when he was sixteen. Starving. Beaten. Left for dead in an alley. Enzo had given him food, shelter, purpose. He had made Rook into a weapon.

But weapons weren't supposed to have feelings.

"She hates me," Rook said.

"Good. Hate will keep her sharp. Keep her alive."

"What if I can't protect her?"

Enzo grabbed Rook's shoulders. "You will. Because if anything happens to Selena, I'll hunt you to the ends of the earth."

"And if I refuse the job?"

"Then I'll kill you right here."

Rook looked into Enzo's eyes and saw the truth. The boss wasn't bluffing. Family meant everything to him. More than money. More than power. More than the life of his best assassin.

"Fine," Rook said. "I'll take the job."

Enzo smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "There's more."

"More what?"

"Information you need to know." Enzo walked to a table covered with photographs. Pictures of dead men. Lots of them. "These men all died in the last week."

Rook studied the photos. He recognized some faces. Small-time criminals. Drug dealers. Informants. "What connects them?"

"They all worked for Detective Webb."

Rook's blood went cold. Webb was the cop who had investigated Selena's mother's murder. The cop who had found nothing. The cop who had been paid to stay quiet.

"Webb's dead too," Enzo continued. "Shot three times. Professional job."

"Who did it?"

"That's what I want you to find out. While you're protecting my daughter."

Rook picked up one of the photos. A young man with kind eyes. Someone's son. Someone's brother. "Why kill them all now? It's been three years."

"Because Selena's been asking questions. Getting close to something." Enzo's jaw tightened. "And someone doesn't want her to find it."

"What if she already found it?"

"Then we're all dead."

The warehouse suddenly felt colder. Rook had faced death a hundred times, but this was different. This wasn't about him anymore.

"Where is she now?" Rook asked.

"Safe house across town. Marco's watching her."

Rook's heart stopped. "Marco? You left her with Marco?"

"He's my underboss. I trust him."

"You shouldn't."

"What does that mean?"

Rook pulled out his phone and dialed Marco's number. It rang once. Twice. Three times.

No answer.

"Call her," Rook said, panic creeping into his voice.

Enzo tried Selena's phone. Straight to voicemail.

"Maybe they're sleeping," Enzo said, but his voice shook.

Rook was already moving toward the door. "Marco never turns off his phone. Ever."

They ran to Enzo's car. Rook drove while Enzo kept trying to call. No answer from Marco. No answer from Selena. No answer from any of the guards.

"Faster," Enzo whispered.

Rook pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The city blurred past them. Too slow. Everything was too slow.

They reached the safe house in ten minutes. It should have taken twenty. Rook parked and they ran to the door.

It was open.

Blood pooled on the floor just inside. Marco's blood.

"Selena!" Enzo screamed.

No answer.

They searched every room. Empty. All of them. But in the bedroom, they found something that made Rook's stomach turn to ice.

A message written on the mirror in blood:

"WE HAVE THE GIRL. WAREHOUSE DISTRICT 9. COME ALONE OR SHE DIES."

Enzo stared at the message, his face white as paper. "District 9. That's where..."

"Where her mother died," Rook finished.

"This is a trap."

"I know."

"They'll kill you both."

Rook checked his gun and grabbed extra bullets. "Probably."

"Then why go?"

Rook looked at his reflection in the bloody mirror. For eight years, he had been Enzo's ghost. A killer without a soul. But somewhere deep inside, buried under all the violence and pain, something else lived.

Something that remembered a woman with kind eyes who had tried to save him once.

Something that couldn't let her daughter die.

"Because," Rook said quietly, "some debts can only be paid in blood."

He walked toward the door, ready to face whatever waited in the darkness.

Behind him, Enzo called out: "Rook! What if you can't save her?"

Rook stopped but didn't turn around.

"Then I'll die trying."

The door closed behind him with a sound like a coffin lid.

In District 9, Selena was waiting.

And so was the truth about her mother's murder.