Chapter Ten

The metallic scent of blood clung to the night air, thick and suffocating. Mia's pulse thundered in her ears as she pressed her hands against Ethan's wound, her fingers slick with his blood.

He took a bullet for me.

The realization made her stomach lurch. Ethan Blackwell—the same man who had lied to her, manipulated her, and turned her life upside down—had shielded her with his own body.

His lashes fluttered, pain etched into every line of his face. "Mia…" His voice was hoarse, but that damn smirk still played at the corner of his lips. "You're crying over me. Didn't know you cared."

Mia exhaled sharply, blinking away the sting behind her eyes. "I don't," she snapped, pressing harder against the wound, earning a sharp hiss from him. "But you're not dying on me, Blackwell. Not yet."

The sirens grew louder, flashing red and blue reflecting off the wet concrete of the docks. Nicholas lay motionless a few feet away, his blood pooling around him. Dead or unconscious, she didn't care. Her priority was Ethan.

A black SUV skidded to a halt, and two of Ethan's men rushed out, weapons drawn. One of them, a grizzled man with a buzz cut crouched beside them. "We need to get him out of here, now."

Mia nodded, watching as they hoisted Ethan to his feet. He gritted his teeth, his grip on her wrist tightening as if grounding himself.

Mia, stay with me. He didn't say it out loud, but she heard it in his ragged breath, in the way his fingers curled around hers.

She swallowed, pushing down the unsettling warmth blooming in her chest.

Not now.

Not when Oliver was still in danger.

Ethan's penthouse was eerily quiet when they arrived. The city lights cast long shadows against the sleek marble floors, and the faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with blood.

Mia helped lower Ethan onto the couch, grabbing a medical kit from the bar cart. He leaned his head back, eyes half-lidded, exhaustion evident.

"You should've let me handle Nicholas," she muttered, tearing open a bandage.

Ethan chuckled, though it was strained. "And let you take a bullet? I don't think so."

Mia shook her head, pressing gauze against his wound. He sucked in a sharp breath, his hand snapping out to grip her hip, pulling her closer.

The air shifted.

Heat simmered between them, thick and unrelenting.

Mia's pulse stuttered. His fingers dug into her waist, his dark eyes heavy-lidded with something far more dangerous than pain.

"Careful, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice husky. "Touch me like that, and I might start thinking you like having your hands on me."

She scoffed, trying to ignore the way her skin burned where he touched her. "I'm patching you up so you don't bleed out. Don't flatter yourself."

He smirked. "Too late."

Mia rolled her eyes, pulling back. But before she could step away, her phone vibrated. She frowned, pulling it from her pocket.

A new text.

Unknown Number: You should have listened. Now, you'll pay the price.

Her stomach twisted.

She clicked on the attachment, and her breath caught in her throat.

Oliver's backpack. Lying abandoned in the backseat of a car.

Mia's hands went ice-cold.

Her phone slipped from her fingers, clattering against the floor.

Ethan caught the change in her expression instantly. "What is it?"

She couldn't speak. Just grabbed his phone from the table, pulled up the same message, and showed it to him.

Ethan's face darkened. "Where was this taken?" His voice was deadly calm.

Mia forced herself to breathe. "I don't know. But we need to find him. Now."

Ethan pushed himself up despite the pain, his jaw tight. "Luca," he barked to his security chief. "Trace that number. Find out who's behind this."

Luca nodded, already pulling out his laptop. But Mia's mind was spinning.

The kidnappers had been watching them. Waiting.

And she had no doubt who was responsible.

Nicholas might be dead, but his web of deceit stretched far beyond him.

She turned to Ethan, her voice low and dangerous. "You knew this was coming, didn't you?"

He didn't deny it. His silence was answer enough.

Mia felt the betrayal like a slap. "You knew Oliver was in danger, and you still played your little power games?"

Ethan exhaled, his gaze unreadable. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

Her laugh was humorless. "And yet, here we are."

A ping sounded from Luca's laptop. "Got something. The phone was last traced to an abandoned warehouse on the east side."

Mia didn't hesitate. She grabbed a gun from Ethan's desk.

Ethan stood, his face set in stone. "You're not going alone."

She turned to him, her anger barely contained. "Try and stop me."

And with that, they plunged into the unknown, where enemies lurked in the shadows… waiting.