Eric and Elena ran down the narrow street toward the pawn shop.
Elena was ahead, driven by pure desperation. Eric struggled to keep up, gripping tightly the heavy backpack filled with gold coins that clinked dangerously with every step. He feared that with one wrong movement, the zipper might burst open and scatter the coins across the street like glittering confetti—
A complete disaster.
When they turned the corner, both of their hearts sank.
The shop was wrapped in thick black smoke pouring out of the shattered windows like the breath of a beast. The flames were no longer visible, but the smell of fire lingered—strong, recent, violent.
Elena covered her mouth and let out a broken sob.
"No… no… oh God…!"
Fortunately, a volunteer fire brigade—trained for small fires—was already at work. The flames had been contained before consuming the entire building. Smoke still rolled out in dense waves, but the worst had passed.
Elena ignored the warnings and rushed inside.
"Miss, the area could still be hot!" one firefighter called.
"I need to see it!" she cried, pushing past them.
Eric followed right behind, breathless, the heavy backpack swinging on his shoulders.
Inside, the damage was clear.
Part of the ceiling was scorched. Walls blackened. Display cases shattered. The floor was covered in ash and charred wood.
But what brought Elena to her knees…
Was something far more personal.
A pile of old books—her father's books—was partially burned.
Some were gone entirely.
Reduced to black dust.
"No… Dad… why…?"
Eric clenched his fist as he took in the destruction.
One of the firefighters approached, removing his helmet.
"We don't know what caused the fire yet," he said, his voice firm but sympathetic. "Police and investigators are on their way. But judging by the burn pattern…"
He paused.
"I'd say it was intentional."
Elena looked up, pale as wax.
"I-intentional? But why? Who would do this?"
"We asked nearby shop owners," the firefighter continued, "but no one saw anything."
He hesitated.
"Or they don't want to talk."
Eric exchanged a glance with Elena.
They both knew exactly who could be responsible.
He guided her to a less damaged part of the shop, away from the firefighters. Elena was trembling, tears streaming uncontrollably, unable to speak.
Eric grabbed her shoulders.
"Elena," he said, low but firm. "Tell me what you haven't told me. Why did they do this?"
She stepped back.
Shook her head.
Said nothing.
For a moment—
Eric lost control.
He slammed his fist against a scorched wall, startling even the firefighters.
"TELL ME THE TRUTH!"
Elena broke down, choking on her words.
"They… they said my debt doubled…"
"Doubled? What do you mean doubled?" Eric demanded.
"They want my house as payment… since I couldn't repay what my father owed…"
Eric inhaled sharply, his face hardening with anger.
"So that's why you didn't want help?"
She nodded, head lowered.
"You really think paying them will make them stop?" he pressed.
She shook her head, crying harder.
"So you've been dealing with this alone? From the beginning? No help? No police? Nothing?"
At that, Elena collapsed completely.
She fell to the floor, sobbing so violently her voice echoed through the ruined shop.
It was desperation—
Stripping away her last defense.
It was the truth—
Raw and exposed.
Eric hesitated, unsure how to comfort her.
Then a memory surfaced—a scene from an old movie, someone extending a hand to someone who had fallen.
He repeated the gesture.
He reached out his hand.
Elena looked up, tears still streaming, surprised.
"My offer still stands," Eric said.
She swallowed, trying to steady herself.
"Even after this?"
"Especially after this," he replied. "But I'm adding a condition."
"What condition?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"A formal contract. You agree to work exclusively for me. Do you accept?"
It was what he had wanted from the beginning.
Now—
He had a reason.
Elena looked around.
The shop was partially saved—
But the fear of another attack lingered like a blade pressed against her chest.
The debts.
The threats.
Her entire life on the brink of collapse.
She wiped her tears with her sleeve and forced herself to stand.
She lifted her chin.
Looked him in the eyes.
And took his hand.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"I am," Eric replied. "But first, you're going to do something for me, Elena."
She blinked, anxious.
"What?"
"Set up a meeting with the idiots who did this."
Her face turned pale—like melted silver.
"Are you insane?" she asked, horrified.
Eric smiled.
A strange smile.
This wasn't madness.
It was a plan.
A bold, dangerous plan—
Fueled by a newfound confidence.
The kind that only someone carrying gold in their pocket could have.
"No," he said. "I've never been more clear in my life."
He turned toward the firefighters.
From his backpack, he discreetly pulled out two gold coins and tossed one to each of them.
"What is this?" the brigade leader asked, confused.
"A reward for your quick response," Eric said.
They examined the coins—
And went pale.
"This is… gold? We can't accept this!"
Eric smiled again.
A smile Elena had never seen before.
"You already have," he said calmly. "The real question now is… what should we do about people who think a human life is worth less than gold?"
The firefighters exchanged stunned glances.
Elena didn't fully understand either.
But she felt something—
A chill.
As if something had awakened inside Eric.
Something dangerous.
Eric was already walking out when he stopped at the door.
He turned slowly toward Elena.
"Don't forget," he said, his tone somewhere between concern and command. "Set up the meeting and tell me where. As soon as possible… or our deal is off."
Then he left—
Leaving Elena standing in the smoke-filled ruins—
And the gold coins gleaming in the firefighters' hands.