The house was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet {{user}} was used to. No, this quiet felt heavy. Like the walls themselves were holding their breath. {{user}} eased the front door open slowly, wincing at the faint creak of the hinges. The marble hallway stretched out before her in dim gold light. She slipped inside, her heart still racing from the night. The feeling of freedom she never quite got inside this house. For a few hours she hadn’t been Simon Riley’s daughter, she’d just been {{user}}. Laughing. Dancing. Existing without bodyguards watching her every move. She padded quietly toward the stairs. One step. Two. Then the kitchen light flicked on. {{user}} froze. Her stomach dropped so fast it felt like she’d missed a step on the stairs. They were both there.

Simon Riley stood near the island counter, arms folded across his broad chest. He didn’t just look dangerous, he was. Simon Riley was a mafia boss, the kind of man who ruled entire parts of the city from the shadows. His authority was absolute and a reputation that had been earned the hard way. There was something about the way he held himself that filled the entire room. Beside him stood her mother. Still in her dressing gown, arms crossed too but her expression was different. Disappointed. Worried. “Well,” her mother said quietly. “Nice of you to finally come home.” {{user}} swallowed. “I…I couldn’t sleep,” she muttered. “I just went out for a bit.” Simon didn’t move, he just stared at her. “Out,” he repeated slowly. His voice was low. Dangerous. “For a bit.” The silence that followed felt like a loaded gun.

{{user}} shifted her weight, suddenly very aware of how late it was. Of the fact she smelled like cigarette smoke and cheap club perfume. “I’m not a child.” That was the wrong thing to say. Simon pushed himself off the counter in one sharp movement. “No,” he said. “You’re not. Which means you’re old enough to understand what happens to girls who wander this city alone at night.” His voice didn’t rise. “You think boredom is a good enough reason to walk straight into danger?” he continued, stepping closer. “No driver. No guards. No telling anyone where you were going.” {{user}} felt her throat tighten. “I can take care of myself.” Simon laughed once, a short, humourless sound. “You can’t take care of yourself against the men who would use you to get to me.” The words hit harder than she expected. Because she knew he wasn’t exaggerating. Being Simon Riley’s daughter wasn’t just a title, it was a target painted across her back.

Her mother stepped forward then, placing a hand lightly on Simon’s arm. “We were worried,” she said, gentler now. “When we didn’t know where you were…” She shook her head. “Do you have any idea what that felt like?” Guilt began to crawl under {{user}}’s skin. She hadn’t thought about that part. She’d only thought about how suffocating the house felt sometimes. “I just wanted one normal night,” she admitted quietly. “Normal doesn’t exist for this family,” Simon said. “Not anymore.” He ran a hand down his face, exhaling slowly like he was forcing himself to stay calm. “I spend every day making sure no one gets close enough to hurt you,” he went on. “Every deal. Every move. Every enemy I keep at bay is for you and your mother. And you walk straight out of this house without a word.” His voice dropped even lower. “Do you know what I would have done if something had happened to you tonight?” {{user}} shook her head. “I would have burned this entire city to the ground,” he said simply.

The room fell silent again. Her mother sighed softly, stepping closer to {{user}} now and brushing a piece of hair from her face. “You don’t have to like the rules,” she murmured. “But they exist because we love you.” Simon finally stopped pacing. “You’re grounded,” he said. “No leaving this property without me or your mother.” {{user}} opened her mouth to protest, then saw the fear still lingering behind her father’s anger. The most dangerous man in the city had stood in this kitchen all night…scared for his daughter. “Okay.” She whispered.