He reached across the table. For the first time, he took her hand fully in his. His skin was rough, calloused from years of violence, but his touch was gentle.
«I need you to understand the danger you are in, Evelyn. This isn’t just a jealous ex-boyfriend anymore. This is a syndicate war. The Petrovs are ruthless. They don’t care about collateral damage.»
«So what do we do?» Evelyn asked. She was surprised to find that her voice didn’t shake. «Do I run? Do you send me away?»
Lucas’s thumb brushed over her knuckles. He looked at her with an intensity that made her toes curl.
«I don’t send away things I value,» he said, his voice dropping to a rough growl. «And I don’t run.»
«Then what?»
«We fight,» Lucas said. «But I need to know if you are ready. If you stay here with me, you are a target. If I send you to Europe, I can give you a new name, a new life. You will be safe. But you will be alone.»
He squeezed her hand. «The choice is yours, Evelyn. The plane is fueled on the tarmac. You can leave tonight.»
Evelyn looked at him. She looked at the man who had kicked down a door to save her. The man who had sat by her bedside. The man who looked at her not as a victim, but as someone dangerous.
She thought of Marcus out there in the dark, hunting her. If she ran, she would spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.
«I’m tired of being afraid,» Evelyn said softly. She tightened her grip on Lucas’s hand. «I’m not going anywhere.»
Lucas let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for a long time. He stood up, pulling her up with him. He didn’t let go of her hand.
«Good,» he murmured, stepping closer until she could feel the heat radiating from his chest. «Because I wasn’t sure I could let you go.»
He leaned in. His lips brushed her forehead, a chaste, protective kiss that felt more intimate than anything she had ever experienced.
«Boss!»
The moment shattered. Luca, Lucas’s head of security, stood in the doorway. His face was pale, his earpiece blinking.
«What is it?» Lucas asked, not moving away from Evelyn.
«The perimeter sensors,» Luca said, his voice tight. «They didn’t trip.»
Lucas frowned. «What do you mean?»
«I mean they’re offline. Hard cut. Someone hacked the system from the inside.»
The lights in the dining room flickered once. Twice. Then the entire estate plunged into darkness.
«Down!» Lucas roared, shoving Evelyn beneath the heavy oak table just as the sound of shattering glass echoed from the front hall. Red emergency lights bathed the room in a sinister, bloody glow.
Luca burst in, his rifle raised. «Perimeter is gone, boss! They hacked the system. They’re inside.»
«The panic room,» Lucas commanded, hauling Evelyn up. He moved with terrifying speed, a gun appearing in his hand. «Move.»
They sprinted into the hallway. Shadows danced on the walls, distorted by the flashing red lights. Gunfire erupted from the foyer, deafening rapid bursts that shook the floorboards.
«They cut the power to the basement elevators!» Luca shouted, firing back at a group of shadowed figures swarming the stairs. «We’re cut off!»
«The roof,» Lucas decided instantly. «Get the chopper. Now.»
They ran toward the service stairs. Evelyn’s breath came in ragged gasps, her healing ribs throbbing with every step. But she didn’t slow down.
Suddenly, the house intercom crackled to life.
«Evelyn…» The voice was distorted, slurred, but unmistakably Marcus. «I know you’re in there, sweetheart. Come out. The Russians just want him. I just want to take you home.»
«Don’t listen,» Lucas growled, pushing her up the stairs.
«Did you think you could trade up?» Marcus laughed, a manic, wet sound. «He can’t save you. He’s just a thug in a suit.»
They burst onto the third-floor landing. The wind howled through a shattered window, bringing the rain inside. Three men in tactical gear turned the corner at the end of the hall.
«Contact!»
Lucas shoved Evelyn into an alcove and opened fire. The hallway became a wind tunnel of noise. Bullets shredded the drywall above Evelyn’s head. She covered her ears, screaming silently.
She felt Lucas jerk violently against her, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. He fired two more shots, dropping the lead attacker, then slumped back against the wall.
«Lucas!» Evelyn gasped. A dark stain was spreading rapidly across the white dress shirt at his side.
«I’m fine,» he lied through gritted teeth, his face pale in the strobe light. «Go. The roof access is ten yards.»
«I’m not leaving you!»
«Evelyn, go!»
«No!» She grabbed his arm, her nurse’s instinct overriding her fear. «Stand up, Lucas Moretti. You promised to protect me.»
Using her own body as a crutch, she hauled him up. Together, they stumbled toward the heavy steel door. They burst out onto the roof.
The storm was a physical force here, rain stinging like needles. But above the howling wind was the rhythmic thump, thump, thump of a helicopter banking hard toward them.
«Almost there!» Evelyn yelled.
«Stop!»
The scream tore through the wind. Standing between them and the helicopter was Marcus Thorn. He looked deranged. He was wearing a hospital gown tucked into jeans, his hands encased in heavy plaster casts. Behind him stood a massive Russian enforcer holding a shotgun.
«Look at you,» Marcus spat, his hair plastered to his skull. «Dragging a dying man.» He nodded to the Russian. «Kill him.»
Lucas tried to raise his gun, but his arm wavered. He was losing too much blood.
«No!» Evelyn stepped in front of Lucas.
«Move, Evelyn!» Marcus shrieked. «Get over here!»
The Russian racked the shotgun slide. Evelyn looked at the helicopter hovering just feet away. She looked at Lucas’s trembling hand. Then she looked at the tactical flashlight clipped to Lucas’s belt.
She grabbed it.
«Lucas,» she whispered, leaning back against him. «Do you trust me?»
«With my life,» he wheezed.
«On my signal.»
Evelyn turned to the Russian. She raised the heavy flashlight. «Hey!» she screamed.
The Russian looked at her. Evelyn flicked the strobe to maximum brightness and aimed it directly into his night-vision goggles. The effect was blinding. The Russian roared, tearing at his face as the amplified light scorched his retinas. He fired the shotgun blindly into the sky.
«Now!»
Evelyn dropped to the deck. Lucas fired. He didn’t aim for the men. He aimed for the industrial propane tank next to the heating unit behind them.
Boom.
A fireball erupted, throwing Marcus and the Russian backward into the darkness.
«Go!» Lucas roared.
They scrambled toward the helicopter. Strong hands reached out—Silas, the pilot—and dragged them inside. The chopper lurched upward instantly, the sudden G-force pinning them to the floor. Evelyn slammed the door shut, sealing out the storm.
She crawled over to Lucas. He was lying on his back, his eyes fluttering shut. The blood was pooling beneath him.
«Stay with me,» she sobbed, pressing her hands hard against the wound. «You don’t get to die. Not after all that.»
Lucas looked up at her. A faint, bloody smile touched his lips.
«You,» he whispered, his voice fading. «You blinded him.»
«I improvised,» she said, tears mixing with the rain on her face.
«I told you,» Lucas breathed, his eyes closing. «I don’t… run.»
As the helicopter sped toward the sanctuary of the North Woods, Evelyn looked down at her hands, stained with the blood of the man she loved. The fear was gone. In its place was a cold, hard resolve.
Marcus had survived the roof; she felt it. But the next time they met, she wouldn’t be the victim. She would be the war.