Morning sunlight slipped through the tall windows of the Vector mansion, painting soft gold across the marble floor. The house was quiet — too quiet — until quick footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Bella paused outside the study door, fixing a loose strand of her light brown hair. She took a small breath, then knocked.
"Come in," came the calm voice from inside.
She pushed the door open. Alex sat behind his desk, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, eyes focused on a file. He looked up the moment he sensed her, his expression softening almost instantly.
"Good morning, big brother," Bella said, smiling.
Alex leaned back slightly. "You're up early."
"I couldn't sleep," she admitted, stepping closer. "I wanted to talk to you."
He closed the file carefully, giving her his full attention — something he rarely did for anyone else. "What is it?"
Bella clasped her hands together, excitement flickering in her light blue eyes. "I want to start working… with you."
For a moment, silence filled the room.
Alex's gaze sharpened, though his voice remained gentle. "Working… with me?"
"I graduated a month ago," she continued quickly. "I don't want to just stay at home. I can help in the office. I'll learn fast, I promise."
He watched her carefully — the hopeful expression, the innocence she still carried. His jaw tightened slightly, but he hid it well.
"Bella," he said calmly, "you don't need to rush. You should enjoy your time. Travel. Rest. There's no need to burden yourself."
"But I want to," she insisted softly. "I don't want to be useless. And… I want to be close to you too."
His eyes darkened for a fraction of a second.
"You are not useless," he replied, voice firm but warm. "And you're already close to me. That won't change."
She frowned slightly. "So… that's a no?"
He stood up, walking around the desk. He stopped in front of her, gently placing a hand on her head — a familiar, protective gesture.
"It's a no," he said quietly. "For now."
Bella sighed, disappointed but not angry. "You're always overprotective, big brother."
"Maybe," he answered.
She looked up at him. "You'll think about it?"
"…I will."
That was enough for her. She smiled again, her mood lifting quickly. "Okay. I trust you."
He nodded. "Have breakfast before you leave the house."
"I will." She turned, then paused at the door. "Don't work too hard."
When she left, the smile on Alex's face faded.
He stood still, eyes fixed on the closed door, fingers slowly curling into a fist.
The mansion fell silent again.
Hours passed.
Night came.
At midnight, Alex's phone vibrated on the bedside table.
He answered without speaking.
A voice murmured something from the other end.
Alex's expression changed instantly — all warmth gone, replaced by something cold and unreadable.
"I'll handle it," he said quietly.
Minutes later, a black car disappeared into the empty streets.
A dimly lit warehouse.
The air felt heavy, suffocating. Even the guards standing near the walls avoided breathing too loudly. The large metal doors creaked open, and Alex stepped inside.
Every man in the room straightened immediately. No one dared greet him.
Someone knelt in the center of the floor, trembling, barely able to hold himself upright.
Alex walked forward slowly, each step echoing. The sound alone made the kneeling man shake harder.
He stopped in front of him.
Silence.
One of the guards wiped sweat from his forehead. Another lowered his eyes. No one wanted to meet Alex's gaze.
The man on the floor tried to speak. "I— I didn't—"
Alex didn't respond. He simply looked down at him, calm… too calm.
That calmness was more terrifying than anger.
He tilted his head slightly, voice low, controlled, almost gentle.
"No one touches what belongs to me."
The words hung in the air.
No one moved.
A single gunshot echoed through the warehouse.
Several men flinched instinctively.
Alex lowered his hand, already turning away, as if nothing important had happened.