bullets between lies

The shot cracked the night air like a whip.

Olivia's body jolted before Damon yanked her backward, both of them crashing to the floor as the glass balcony doors exploded into glittering shards.

"Down!" he barked, rolling on top of her, shielding her with his body as another bullet slammed into the wall behind them.

Breathless, shaking, Olivia looked up at him, eyes wide. "Sniper?"

Damon's jaw was clenched tight. "Professional. Silencer. But he missed."

Only because Damon had pulled her down in time.

He moved like a machine—checking her limbs for blood, ignoring his own scraped shoulder.

"We're not safe here anymore." He hauled her to her feet, grabbing a hidden firearm from the drawer beneath the bar. "We leave. Now."

"But—" she started, but he was already moving, sweeping the penthouse in sharp, controlled movements. "There's a back elevator. It's shielded. We go down, get in the car, and disappear."

She didn't ask where. She didn't argue. Her instincts screamed at her to trust him.

He was already her only lifeline.

Thirty Minutes Later — Abandoned Warehouse, Lower Manhattan

The car screeched to a halt as Damon guided them into a dark warehouse—metal doors shutting behind them with a deafening clang.

Olivia stared at the space, breathless. "What is this place?"

"A fallback," he said. "I had it prepared months ago."

She turned to him, voice trembling. "How did they find us?"

"Someone inside Vespera is working faster than we thought. Or Jackson sold you out."

She flinched. "I don't think he would—"

"You don't know what he would do," Damon snapped, then paused, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm sorry. That shot…it almost took you from me."

That vulnerability—the crack in his control—startled her more than the bullet.

"I'm still here."

"Yeah," he whispered. "But they're getting desperate. Which means we're close."

She sat heavily on a makeshift bench. "Tell me everything you haven't told me yet."

He hesitated only a moment.

The Truth

"The ledger isn't just a list. It's a map. To an account—a shadow fund worth over half a billion dollars. The money your father laundered for Vespera. It was the reason they trusted him. And the reason they killed him."

Her breath hitched. "And I inherited it."

He nodded. "The vault is biometric. Only you can open it. Your DNA, your prints, your voice. That's why they didn't kill you first."

"Because they need me."

"Yes. But once you open it… you're expendable."

"And you?" she whispered.

Damon's eyes darkened. "I'm the one they never expected."

She stood, facing him. "What are you not saying?"

He hesitated, then stepped closer.

"I used to work for them."

Silence rang like a siren in the empty warehouse.

"I was a cleaner. The guy they sent to fix problems. Silence witnesses. Make bodies disappear. Before I left… before I became someone else."

Her breath caught.

"I didn't know who your father was then. But when I did, I knew I had to stop them."

Her voice cracked. "Did you… ever kill for them?"

He didn't lie. "Yes."

And still, she didn't move away.

Instead, she whispered, "And now you protect me."

His voice was gravel. "I'd die for you."

Later That Night

The warehouse was cold. Makeshift bedding was the only comfort. But Olivia didn't sleep.

She lay awake, watching Damon in the corner, cleaning his weapon, muscles taut.

"Do you regret it?" she asked softly.

He looked up. "What?"

"Saving me. Getting involved with me."

His eyes burned into hers. "You're the only thing I don't regret."

She stood, crossing to him. "Then stop pushing me away."

"I'm dangerous."

"You were. You're not anymore."

"You don't know that."

"I know you shielded me with your body when a bullet could've killed you." Her hand found his chest. "That counts for something."

She was close. Too close. He couldn't breathe.

"Olivia," he warned.

But she leaned up and kissed him anyway.

Not soft. Not gentle.

It was need. It was fire. It was survival.

And he kissed her back like he'd waited years for that moment.

Clothes hit the floor. The chill of the warehouse forgotten.

And for a few hours, the danger didn't matter.

There was only them.

The Next Morning

Damon was already up, dressed, when she woke. He was staring at his phone, grim.

"They made their move."

She sat up. "What happened?"

"They took your mother."

Her blood ran cold. "No."

"They're sending a message. Give them the key. Or your family dies."

Olivia shot to her feet. "We have to go to them."

"We can't. It's a trap."

"She's my mother!"

"And you're mine," he said hoarsely. "I won't lose you."

Tears blurred her eyes. "Then what do we do?"

He looked up, jaw set.

"We fight back."