Chapter 10

The sound of gunfire echoed through the marble halls as Leo pulled me behind a pillar. The screams from the ballroom grew louder, punctuated by the crash of breaking glass. My hands shook as I gripped the gun, remembering Sofia's lessons.

"Keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot," she'd said. "And remember – hesitation gets you killed."

Leo pressed his back against the pillar, peering around the edge. "Nathaniel's men are blocking the main exits." His voice was calm, controlled. "We need to get to the service corridor."

A bullet chipped the marble inches from my head, sending white dust cascading over my blue gown. I flinched, but kept my grip steady on the weapon. Three days of training couldn't make me a soldier, but it had taught me enough to stay alive.

"Victoria." Leo's eyes met mine. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." The answer came without hesitation.

He pulled something from his jacket – a small remote detonator. "When I trigger this, run for the kitchen. Don't stop, don't look back. Just run."

Before I could respond, an explosion rocked the far end of the ballroom. The chandelier swayed precariously, casting wild shadows as smoke filled the air. Leo grabbed my hand and we ran.

My heels clattered against marble as we sprinted through chaos. Guests in evening wear scrambled for exits, their faces masks of terror. I caught glimpses of armed men – some Nathaniel's, some Leo's – engaged in silent, brutal combat.

We burst through the kitchen doors. The staff had fled, leaving pots bubbling on stoves and appetizers abandoned on silver trays. Leo led me toward the loading dock, but a figure stepped out of the shadows.

The loading dock door was just ahead when a familiar voice froze my blood.

"Going somewhere?" Jessica – Nathaniel's mistress – stood blocking our path. The gun in her hand looked wrong against her sequined dress. "Sorry, Victoria, but Nathaniel wants you to stay."

I raised my weapon, remembering Sofia's lessons about stance and breathing. "Move."

Jessica's laugh was high and brittle. "Or what? You'll shoot me? Please. You can barely hold that thing straight." She stepped forward. "Face it – you're not cut out for this world. You're just a silly little girl playing dress-up."

The gun felt heavy in my hands. She was right – I wasn't a killer. But I thought of my father, of Nathaniel's casual cruelty, of the baby growing inside me. Sometimes survival meant becoming someone else.

"You're right." I lowered the gun slightly. "I'm not cut out for this."

Jessica smiled triumphantly. That's when I kicked off my heel and threw it at her face.

The stiletto caught her in the forehead. As she staggered, I brought my gun back up and fired. The shot went wide, but it was enough to make her dive for cover. Leo grabbed my arm and we ran.

"Not bad for a silly little girl," Leo said as we sprinted through the service entrance.

"Sofia taught me to use everything as a weapon." I stumbled, one foot bare against the cold concrete. "Even designer shoes."

"Remind me to give her a raise."

Cold night air hit my face as we burst onto the loading dock. A black SUV screeched to a halt in front of us, Sofia at the wheel. We dove into the backseat as bullets peppered the vehicle's armored sides.

"Go!" Leo shouted, and Sofia floored it.

I slumped against the leather seat, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. My hands trembled as I set the gun down. One shoe gone, dress torn, hair falling from its elegant twist – I probably looked as shattered as I felt.

Leo's hand found mine in the darkness. "You did well back there."

"I missed."

"But you didn't freeze." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "That's what matters."

Through the bulletproof glass, I watched the city lights blur past. The sound of gunfire faded, replaced by the steady hum of the engine and Sofia's expert navigation through late-night traffic. My heart still pounded against my ribs, the baby fluttering in response to the surge of adrenaline.

The gun lay between us, a cold reminder of how far I'd come from the woman who once arranged flowers and chose paint colors. I'd thrown my shoe at a woman's face. I'd pulled a trigger.

Leo's hand remained steady in mine, an anchor in the chaos. The calluses on his palm told their own story – this wasn't his first night of violence, of split-second decisions between life and death. I wondered how many times he'd sat in cars like this, watching city lights blur past, carrying the weight of what he'd done.

I turned to look at him, really look at him. His tuxedo was torn at the shoulder, a thin line of blood staining the white shirt beneath. Yet he seemed more alive than ever, dark eyes burning with something fierce and wild.

"You're hurt."

"It's nothing." His jaw tightened. "Just a graze."

The SUV swerved around a corner, pressing me deeper into his embrace. The scent of gunpowder clung to his jacket, mixed with expensive cologne and something uniquely Leo. My fingers traced the tear in his sleeve, coming away red.

Sofia's voice cut through the darkness. "Safe house in five minutes. Backup team reports Nathaniel's clearing out of the gala. He'll be looking for us."

I felt Leo nod against my hair. The steady rhythm of his heart grounded me, even as my own thoughts spun wildly. An hour ago, we'd been dancing. Now blood stained my hands and gunfire echoed in my ears.

"I shot at someone tonight," I whispered into his chest.

"I know." His arms tightened around me. "I'm sorry you had to."

"I'm not." The words surprised me with their truth. "She was between us and survival. Just like Nathaniel stands between us and justice."

"Leo." My voice caught. "What happens now?"

He pulled me closer, until I could feel his heart hammering against my cheek. "Now we fight back."