COLLATERAL
The hallway seemed endless.
Polished dark wood stretched beneath Runa's feet, gleaming under soft golden lights that cast long, distorted shadows. Portraits lined the walls—generations of Vales with the same piercing blue eyes. Their gazes were cold, assessing, and eternal; they watched her pass like judges carved into the fabric of time. Every step she took echoed too loudly against the silence, every creak of the floorboards sending a sharp jolt of adrenaline through her chest.
A man walked ahead of her—a guard in a suit so sharp it looked like armor. He didn't speak. He didn't look back. He simply led her deeper into the labyrinth of the estate, a place that felt alive with the weight of ancient power and quiet, practiced violence.
Jason's voice drifted from behind her, calm and terrifyingly precise.
"You're no guest here," he said, his footsteps rhythmic and light. "You're… collateral. It's a legal distinction, but a vital one. Treat it with the appropriate gravity."
Runa swallowed hard and nodded. She wasn't sure if she was still allowed to speak, or if her voice had been signed away along with her freedom.
They stopped before a wide, heavy door. Inside, the suite was spacious—elegant in a way that felt entirely impersonal. Dark oak floors, tall windows framing the distant, twinkling skyline of Los Angeles, and a bed draped in silk. It was a bedroom fit for royalty, yet it felt like a cage dressed in luxury.
Jason leaned against the marble mantle, arms crossed, a slow, predatory grin curling his lips. "Well," he said, taking an unhurried step toward her. "Look at you. The infamous Winters debt, personified."
Her stomach churned. He was dangerously handsome, but his beauty felt deliberate—weaponized to make his targets hesitate before he struck.
"Don't touch me," she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
Jason laughed, a soft, dry sound. "Careful, little kitten. You'll learn very fast that in this house, 'don't' is a word reserved for people with last names that end in Vale."
"Jason."
Althea's voice cut through the room like a piano wire. She stood in the doorway, her silhouette sharp and uncompromising.
Jason paused, his grin tightening but not disappearing. "Of course, sister. Just getting acquainted with the merchandise."
"Enough," Althea said coolly. She turned to Runa, her blue eyes like chips of ice. "This will be your room. Breakfast is at seven. Sharp. If you aren't at the table, we assume you've tried to leave. And if you try to leave..." She let the sentence hang, the implication of Leo's death earlier that day filling the silence. "Don't make us wait."
As they turned to leave, Runa noticed Eli. The girl stood by the window, her gaze fixed not on Runa, but on Jason. She was watching him the way a hawk watches a snake—unreadable, unblinking, and entirely focused. When Jason finally followed Althea out, Eli's eyes shifted to Runa for a fraction of a second—brief, sharp, and strangely thoughtful—before she vanished into the hall.
Runa stood alone. The silence of the room was heavy, pressing against her ears. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but she realized with a hollow ache that she didn't even know where away was anymore.
The Next Morning
The dining table was a massive slab of mahogany that looked like it could seat thirty. Every seat was filled, yet the air felt colder than the night before. Crystal glasses caught the morning light, and silver silverware rested untouched beside plates of food that Runa couldn't imagine swallowing.
Roman and Althea spoke in hushed, clipped tones—logistics, shipping routes, "sanitation." Jason stood abruptly, his chair scraping the floor.
"Car just arrived," he said lazily, checking a gold watch.
"So early?" Aurora asked, her red hair vibrant against her pale green silk robe.
"Business won't wait for coffee, Mother." Jason's gaze flicked briefly to Runa, a dark promise in his eyes, before he turned and strode out.
Runa exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She sat stiffly between Althea and Eli. Suddenly, Eli stood up. Without a word or an explanation, she walked around the table and traded places with Toni.
Runa blinked. Now, she was sandwiched between the bubbly, red-haired Toni and the rigid Althea. Warmth and cold. While Eli sat across from her, creating a strange buffer. It didn't feel like a coincidence. It felt like a calculated move.
"Hey," Toni leaned in with an easy, bright smile that felt like a sunbeam in a morgue. "Why aren't you eating? The chef makes the best crepes in the city."
Runa hesitated, her voice small. "Am I… allowed?"
"Of course," Eli answered from across the table. Her voice was even, devoid of the jagged edges the others carried. "There is food in front of you. It would be a waste not to consume it."
Toni nodded, sliding a dish of fruit toward Runa. "Eli's right! Eat up. We have a big day."
Aurora broke in, her voice smooth as glass. "Althea, dear. One of the boutiques in the Heights needs checking. There was a discrepancy in the ledger."
Althea frowned. "Mother, I have the docks to oversee—"
"Bring Runa," Aurora interrupted. "She needs to be useful.Besides, didn't you say you needed an assistant?"
"I need someone competent," Althea snapped. "Not a burden."
"I'll go!" Toni chirped, raising her hand like a schoolgirl. "I can handle the boutique. Eli can come to keep me focused."
"There you go" Althea said.
Roman laughed softly, a sound that made the hair on Runa's neck stand up. He looked at Eli—not casually, but with a deep, unsettling expectation. "Agree, Let the twins handle it. Eli can manage the numbers. Right, Elizabeth?"
Eli met her father's gaze and inclined her head a mere inch. "Yes."
Aurora sighed again. "Alright. The twins and Runa."
"I'll assign Albert to guard you," Althea said.
Toni laughed. "Silly. We don't need a guard."
"Not for you," Althea replied sharply, her eyes cutting to Runa. "For her. In case she tries to escape."
Runa's stomach tightened.
The Boutique and the Alley
The boutique was a temple of glass and gold. The name VALE was etched in the door. Inside, Runa felt like a ghost haunting a palace. Albert, a hulking guard with a permanent scowl, stayed exactly three paces behind her.
The energy split the moment they crossed the threshold. Eli went straight for the manager, her face a mask of cold professionalism. "I'm Elizabeth Vale. Show me the logs for the last three shipments."
Runa watched, stunned, as the quiet girl from the breakfast table transformed. Eli didn't just read the reports; she dissected them. Within ten minutes, she had found three "errors"—missing stock that the manager had clearly tried to skim.
"You thought we wouldn't notice," Eli said, her voice terrifyingly flat. "Fix the numbers and return the value by tomorrow, or I'll send Althea to do the audit. Personally."
The manager's face went gray. "Yes... yes, Miss Vale."
Meanwhile, Toni was a whirlwind. "Oh my God, Runa! This red is your color. It matches the blood on the family crest!" She laughed at her own dark joke and pushed Runa into a fitting room with an armful of silk.
For a moment, in the privacy of the velvet-curtained stall, Runa looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a dress that cost more than her father's car. She looked like one of them. She let out a small, startled laugh—a sound of pure absurdity.
From across the store, Eli's eyes caught Runa's in the mirror. For just a second, the coldness in Eli's gaze flickered. She saw Runa smile. Then, she turned back to the terrified manager, the mask sliding back into place.
An hour later, Toni dragged them toward a small dessert shop down a side street. "We need sugar. Albert, wait with the car. Stay with Eli."
The shop smelled of vanilla and burnt sugar. Runa took a bite of a tart and felt a momentary, blissful disconnect from reality. "This is illegal," she murmured.
Toni beamed. "Everything the Vales do is illegal, honey. Well not everything, you know what I mean.Might as well enjoy the parts that taste good."
But as they stepped back out into the cooling afternoon air, the atmosphere shifted. Four men were lounging against the brick walls of the narrow street. They didn't look like Vale men; they looked like sharks who had smelled blood.
"Hey," one called out, his voice thick with a sneer. "Pretty things like you shouldn't be out without a leash."
Toni's grip on Runa's hand became bone-crushing. "Keep walking. Eyes forward."
But the alley came too fast. A hand grabbed Runa's arm—reeking of cheap beer and desperation. She screamed, the sound echoing off the narrow walls.
Toni spun instantly. Her "bubbly" persona vanished, replaced by a fierce, jagged intensity. She drove an elbow into the man's throat with a sickening thud. "Touch her again and I'll break your fingers!" She hit the first one ,pushing him away. Toni knew how to figth. She was able to stood her ground for a few minutes.
But there were four of them. One grabbed Toni's hair, jerking her back, his hand tightening around her throat. "You little bitch—"
Runa froze, her heart stopping. Then, a shadow fell over the alley.
Eli didn't scream. She didn't warn them. She simply moved.
The man holding Toni went down as Eli's fist collided with his jaw in a perfect, surgical strike. He hit the pavement like a sack of stones.
"Don't," Eli said, her voice a low, vibrating growl. "Touch. My. Sister."
She didn't stop. She stomped the man's face into the concrete with a sickening crack. The second attacker lunged, and Eli drove him into the brick wall, her forearm crushing his windpipe until his eyes rolled back. The third pulled a knife. Eli disarmed him in one fluid motion, a blur of silver and motion, followed by the sound of a wrist snapping like a dry twig.
The fourth man turned to run.
Eli didn't chase him. She reached into her blazer, pulled a sleek, silenced pistol, and fired.
One shot. The man collapsed in the mouth of the alley. Clean. Final.
Silence swallowed the street. Toni was breathing hard, a thin trail of blood running from her lip. "Okay," she whispered shakily. "That was... excessive."
Runa's knees buckled, and she hit the ground. Eli was there instantly, catching her with firm, steady hands.
"You're safe," Eli said. Her voice was quiet, but it held a strange, grounding weight. "Look at me, Runa."
Runa looked. She expected to see the cold judge from the portraits. Instead, she saw a protector.
Sirens wailed in the distance— but just before they arrive 3 men including Albert arrive.the Vales' clean-up crew, no doubt. Eli released Runa gently and turned to Toni, cupping her sister's face. "Your lip is broken. We need to get you home and treat that before Father see."
Toni's composure finally shattered, and she burst into tears, clinging to Eli. Eli just shook her head softly, her expression softening into something almost human.
As they walked back to the SUV, Runa looked at Eli. She realized then that Eli wasn't just "The Sniper" because she was good with a gun as she learned. She was the sniper because she stayed hidden, waited for the right moment, and hit exactly where it mattered.
And for the first time, Runa thought: If I survive this house... it's going to be because of her.