The Father's Pain

The Father's Pain
Iris POV

"Sixty seconds," Enzo said, his thumb over the detonator button. "Starting now."
"Wait!" I grabbed Alex's arm. "We need to think about this!"
"There's nothing to think about," Alex said coldly. "My father is bluffing."
"Am I?" Enzo smiled. "Fifty seconds."
"You'd kill your own men to prove a point?" Alex asked.
"I'd sacrifice pawns to save the kingdom. Forty-five seconds."
My heart pounded. "Alex, what if he's not bluffing?"
"Then we're making the biggest mistake of our lives by giving in to blackmail."
"Or saving lives by making a hard choice."
"Forty seconds," Enzo announced.
Alex looked at me. Really looked at me. "Iris, if we do this—if we get married right now—it's not real. It's just politics."
"I know."
"It doesn't mean anything."
"I know that too."
But we both knew it was a lie. Marriage always meant something.
"Thirty-five seconds."
"There has to be another way," Alex said desperately.
"There isn't," I replied. "Not one that saves everyone."
"Iris—"
"Do it. Marry me. Save your people."
"Our people," he corrected.
"Thirty seconds."
Marco stepped forward. "Boss, we can rush him. Take the detonator before he presses it."
"And if his thumb slips during the fight?" Alex asked. "Everyone dies anyway."
"Twenty-five seconds."
Ian grabbed my other arm. "Iris, you don't have to do this. We can find another solution."
"In twenty-five seconds?"
"We're gifted. We can stop time or something."
"That's not how our powers work and you know it."
"Twenty seconds."
Alex closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were full of pain and resignation.
"Fine. We'll do it. But Father, if this is a trick—"
"No tricks. Just a wedding." Enzo lowered the detonator slightly. "I even brought a priest."
From the shadows, an old man in religious robes stepped forward.
"You planned this," Alex said bitterly.
"I planned for every possibility. Now, shall we begin?"
The next ten minutes felt like a nightmare.
The priest spoke words I barely heard.
Alex held my hands, his grip tight and angry.
I repeated vows I didn't mean.
And just like that, I became Mrs. Alessandro Torrino.
"You may kiss the bride," the priest said.
Alex kissed me. Brief and cold. Nothing like our real kisses.
"Congratulations," Enzo said, putting away the detonator. "Now the Kane and Torrino bloodlines are united. The other families will have to respect that."
"Or they'll see it as two threats becoming one," Alex said.
"Either way, you're both safer than you were before."
"Are we?" I asked. "Or did you just paint bigger targets on our backs?"
Enzo smiled. "Time will tell."
He left with his men, leaving us standing in the empty church.
"I'm sorry," Alex said quietly.
"For what?"
"For this. For all of it. You deserved better than a shotgun wedding in a dark church."
"We both did."
We drove back to the mansion in silence. When we arrived, everyone was still alive.
The bombs had been real after all.
"You married her?" Dad demanded when we told him what happened.
"I didn't have a choice."
"There's always a choice!"
"Not when the alternative is watching everyone die."
Dad looked at me with something like pity. "Iris, are you okay with this?"
"Does it matter? It's done."
"We could get it annulled. Declare it invalid. You were forced into it."
"And then what? Enzo sets off the bombs anyway?"
"He might be bluffing about having bombs."
"Do you really want to test that theory?"
Dad sat down heavily. "This is a mess."
"It's a mess we're stuck in," Alex said. "At least for now."
Elena appeared in the doorway. "You all need to see this. Turn on the news."
We gathered around a TV in the command center.
Dad's face filled the screen.
But not this Dad. This was FBI Director Robert Kane in his official capacity.
He looked terrible. Exhausted. Desperate.
"My fellow Americans," he began. "I'm speaking to you tonight not as your FBI Director, but as a father."
"What is he doing?" I whispered.
"Six days ago, my daughter was kidnapped. Her name is Iris Kane. She's twenty-one years old. She's innocent. And she's caught in a war she never asked to be part of."
The camera zoomed closer to his face.
"I gave up my daughter when she was five years old. I did it to protect her from the dangerous world I lived in. I thought hiding her was the same as loving her."
Tears were running down his face.
"I was wrong. Love isn't hiding someone away. Love is fighting for them. Being there for them. And I failed at that."
He pulled out a photo. It showed me as a little girl.
"This is my daughter. My beautiful, brave daughter who deserves so much better than the life I gave her."
My own tears started falling.
"To whoever is holding Iris right now—whether you're criminals, other government agencies, or foreign powers—I'm making you an offer."
The camera pulled back to show him sitting at a desk.
"I will negotiate with anyone. Anyone. I don't care who you are or what you've done. If you return my daughter safely, I will give you whatever you want."
"He can't mean that," Marcus said.
"Whatever you want," Dad repeated on screen. "Money. Pardons. Information. Access. Name your price, and if it's within my power, I'll pay it."
"He's destroying his career," Elena whispered.
"I know that making this statement will likely end my time as FBI Director. I know it makes me look weak. I know it violates every protocol we have."
He looked directly at the camera.
"But I don't care. Because nothing—not my job, not my reputation, not my pride—matters more than getting my daughter back safely."
The screen showed a phone number.
"This is a direct line to me. It will be monitored 24/7. Call anytime. We'll talk. We'll find a solution."
He stood up.
"Iris, if you're watching this, I want you to know something. I'm sorry. Sorry for leaving you. Sorry for lying to you. Sorry for not being the father you deserved."
His voice broke.
"But I'm done hiding. I'm done letting fear control me. I'm coming for you, sweetheart. And I won't stop until you're safe."
The broadcast ended.
The room was completely silent.
"He just committed career suicide on live television," Marcus said finally.
"He did it for me," I whispered.
"He did it because he loves you," Alex said quietly.
"All those years I thought he didn't care. That he'd abandoned me because I wasn't worth keeping."
"You were always worth keeping," Dad said. "I was just too scared to admit it."
I looked at my father—my real father, standing right here—with new eyes.
"You gave up everything for me when I was five. And now you're giving up everything again."
"Some things are worth any price."
I hugged him. Really hugged him. For the first time since learning he was my father.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For fighting for me."
"Always, sweetheart. Always."
But our moment was interrupted by a phone ringing.
Not just any phone. The direct line Dad had advertised on TV.
"That was fast," Marco said.
Dad answered it on speaker. "This is Director Kane."
"Hello, Robert." It was a woman's voice. Cold and professional. "I saw your touching speech."
"Who is this?"
"Someone who knows where your daughter is. Someone who can help you get her back."
"What do you want?"
"A meeting. Just you and me. Tomorrow at noon. Navy Pier."
"And if I come?"
"Then we discuss terms for Iris's safe return."
"How do I know you really have her?"
"You don't. But you're desperate enough to take the chance. Aren't you, Robert?"
Dad looked at me. I nodded slightly.
"I'll be there," he said.
"Come alone. No FBI backup. No weapons. No tricks."
"Agreed."
"Oh, and Robert? Bring your checkbook. Daughters aren't cheap these days."
The line went dead.
"Who was that?" I asked.
"I don't know. But whoever it is, they think they have leverage."
"Maybe we should—"
Before I could finish, every screen in the command center lit up.
Every single one.
Showing the same message.
"TICK TOCK, LITTLE KANE. THE REAL GAME BEGINS AT MIDNIGHT."
"What does that mean?" Ian asked.
The screens changed. Now they showed live feeds from around the city.
Federal buildings. Police stations. Hospitals. Schools.
All with bombs attached.
"Oh my God," Elena whispered.
The message changed again.
"AT MIDNIGHT, IRIS KANE SURRENDERS TO US. OR ONE BOMB EXPLODES EVERY HOUR UNTIL SHE DOES. YOUR CHOICE, LITTLE PRINCESS."
I stared at the screens, my blood turning to ice.
"How many bombs?" Marcus asked.
"Twenty-three," Mom said, appearing in the doorway with a tablet. "Twenty-three locations across Chicago. All of them crowded. All of them deadly."
"Can we evacuate them?"
"In six hours? Impossible. There'd be mass panic."
Alex grabbed my hand. "We're not giving you up."
"They're going to kill thousands of people!"
"They're bluffing."
"Are they?"
As if to answer, one of the screens went dark.
Then showed an empty parking garage exploding.
"That was a warning," I said quietly. "The next one won't be empty."
Dad's phone rang again.
Different number this time.
He answered. "What?"
A mechanical voice spoke. "Did you see our demonstration, Director Kane? That's what happens to the next twenty-three locations if we don't get Iris by midnight."
"Who are you?"
"We're the people who've been hunting your bloodline for three hundred years. And tonight, the hunt ends. One way or another."
"I won't let you have her."
"Then thousands of innocent people die. Their blood will be on your hands. And hers."
The line went dead again.
Everyone looked at me.
"We have six hours," I said. "Six hours to figure out how to stop this."
"Or six hours to decide if I'm worth thousands of lives."
"You are," Alex said fiercely.
"Am I? I'm just one person. They're thousands."
"You're not just one person. You're the key to ending this war. If they capture you, they win everything."
"And if I don't surrender, innocent people die."
It was the worst choice yet. My life versus thousands of others.
"There has to be another way," Ian said.
"There isn't. Not in six hours."
Mom stepped forward. "Actually, there might be."
"What?"
"The bombs are controlled remotely. If we can find whoever's controlling them—"
"We shut them down," Marcus finished.
"Can we do that in six hours?" Dad asked.
"We can try."
Everyone started moving at once. Tracking signals. Analyzing bomb components. Searching for the people controlling this nightmare.
But I knew the truth.
We wouldn't find them in time.
Which meant in six hours, I'd have to make the hardest choice of my life.
Surrender and save thousands.
Or hide and watch them die.
I walked out to the balcony where Alex and I had kissed.
He followed me.
"Don't even think about it," he said.
"Think about what?"
"Surrendering. Playing hero. Sacrificing yourself."
"Alex—"
"No. We'll find another way."
"In six hours?"
"In six minutes if we have to."
I looked at the city below. Millions of lights. Millions of people.
All of them living their lives, not knowing bombs were hidden among them.
"I can't let them die," I said quietly.
"And I can't let you go."
"Then we're at an impasse."
We stood there in silence, watching the clock tick toward midnight.
Toward my choice.
Toward whatever came next.
"Iris?" Alex said finally.
"If you do this—if you surrender—I'm coming with you."
"No."
"Yes. We're married now, remember? Whatever happens to you happens to me."
"That's not how marriage works."
"It's how this one works."
And somehow, despite everything, I smiled.
Maybe we'd find a solution.
Maybe we wouldn't.
But at least I wouldn't face it alone.
The city stretched out below us, beautiful and doomed.
And somewhere in those lights, someone was counting down the minutes until midnight.
Until I had to choose who lived and who died.
But as I stood there with Alex's hand in mine, I realized something.
I wasn't the scared college girl anymore.
I was Iris Kane-Torrino.
Wife. Daughter. Sister. Warrior.
And I wasn't going down without one hell of a fight.