Some things are meant to be admired from a distance.
Fire.
Storms.
Women like her.
Because the closer you get… the harder it is to walk away.
---
The shot cracked through the night.
Time slowed.
My body moved before my mind could catch up—grabbing her, twisting us sideways as the bullet sliced through the space where she'd been standing.
Too close.
Always too damn close.
We hit the ground hard.
Her breath slammed out of her chest as I pinned her beneath me, shielding her with my body.
"Don't move," I ordered.
"I wasn't planning to," she shot back, but her voice was tighter now.
Good.
At least she understood the danger.
Another shot rang out.
Closer.
Adjusted.
The sniper had eyes on us again.
"Stay down," I said, scanning the darkness, tracking angles, distance, elevation.
"Where?" she whispered.
"High ground. East side. Two hundred meters."
"You saw that?"
"I don't miss."
A beat.
Then—
"Of course you don't," she murmured.
Not admiration.
Recognition.
That was worse.
---
I moved fast, pulling her with me as we rolled behind a low concrete barrier.
The next bullet slammed into it, sending chips flying.
Too accurate.
Too patient.
This wasn't random.
This was planned.
"He's not rushing," I said. "He's waiting for a clean shot."
"Then don't give him one."
I almost smirked.
"Working on it."
She shifted beside me, peeking just slightly.
I grabbed her instantly, pulling her back down.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" I snapped.
"I was trying to see."
"You don't need to see. That's my job."
"And what's mine?" she challenged.
"Staying alive."
Her eyes flashed.
"I'm not useless."
"I didn't say you were."
"You implied it."
"I implied you're the target."
Silence.
Then—
"Same thing," she muttered.
I didn't argue.
Because right now, survival mattered more than pride.
---
Another shot.
Closer.
The barrier wouldn't hold forever.
I needed to move.
Needed a distraction.
Needed—
"On my signal," I said.
She looked at me sharply. "For what?"
"We run."
"Run where?"
"Anywhere but here."
"That's not a plan."
"It is when the alternative is getting your head blown off."
She hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then nodded.
"Fine."
I counted the rhythm of the shots.
The pause.
The breath.
The pattern.
There.
"Now!"
We moved.
Fast.
Low.
The shot fired—
Missed.
Barely.
We sprinted toward the shadows, cutting across open ground before diving behind another structure.
Safe.
For now.
---
Her breathing was heavier this time.
Not fear.
Adrenaline.
Alive.
"You do this often?" she asked.
"Dodge bullets?" I replied. "Only on bad days."
"And this is a bad day?"
I glanced at her.
Covered in ash.
Hair wild.
Dress torn.
Eyes sharp and burning with something fierce.
"…Yeah," I said quietly. "It is."
She smiled.
Actually smiled.
"You're still alive."
"Barely."
"Still counts."
I shook my head slightly.
"You're unbelievable."
"I've been called worse."
"I don't doubt that."
Another pause.
Then—
"Why did you take the job?"
The question caught me off guard.
I didn't answer immediately.
Didn't want to.
But she was watching me again.
Too closely.
"Does it matter?" I said.
"It does to me."
"Why?"
"Because you're risking your life for someone you don't know."
"I know enough."
Her gaze didn't waver.
"What do you think you know?"
"That you're trouble."
She laughed softly.
Low.
Dangerous.
"Only trouble?"
"No," I said, before I could stop myself.
She tilted her head slightly. "What else?"
I held her gaze.
Longer than I should have.
"You don't break," I said finally.
Something flickered in her eyes.
Gone too fast to read.
"Everyone breaks," she replied quietly.
"Not you."
"You don't know that."
"I do."
Silence settled between us again.
Different this time.
Heavier.
Charged.
---
A distant engine cut through the moment.
Both of us turned.
Another vehicle.
Approaching fast.
Too fast.
"More of them?" she asked.
"Probably."
"Great."
I scanned the area, calculating.
Too exposed.
Too many angles.
Not enough cover.
"We need higher ground," I said.
"There's a ridge ahead," she replied quickly. "About fifty meters."
I glanced at her.
"You know the area well."
"It's my land."
Right.
"Then lead."
She didn't hesitate.
---
We moved again, faster this time, keeping low as we made our way toward the ridge.
The sniper didn't fire.
Not yet.
Waiting.
Watching.
Smart.
I didn't like smart enemies.
They lasted longer.
---
We reached the ridge just as the vehicle came into view below.
Three men jumped out.
Armed.
Scanning.
"They're spreading out," she whispered.
"I see them."
"And the sniper?"
"Still out there."
Watching.
Waiting.
For the perfect moment.
---
I turned to her.
"You stay here."
She rolled her eyes. "We've been over this."
"This isn't a discussion."
"It never is with you."
"Good."
She stepped closer.
Too close again.
"You don't get to decide everything," she said softly.
"I do when it comes to keeping you alive."
"And what if I don't want that?"
The words hit harder than they should have.
I frowned.
"What?"
"What if I'm tired of being protected?" she continued. "Of being controlled. Of being treated like something fragile."
"You're not fragile."
"Then stop acting like I am."
I stared at her.
At the fire in her eyes.
The defiance.
The strength.
And something else.
Something dangerous.
"You're not fragile," I said slowly. "You're reckless."
"And you're controlling."
"Because you keep doing things that get you killed."
"And you keep acting like you can't lose."
A beat.
Then—
"Maybe I can't," I said quietly.
Her breath hitched.
Just slightly.
Then she smiled again.
That dangerous, reckless smile.
"I guess we'll find out."
Before I could stop her—
She grabbed the spare gun from my side and moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
"Valentina—"
Too late.
She stepped into the open—
Raised the gun—
And fired.
One shot.
Clean.
Precise.
One of the men below dropped instantly.
The others scattered.
Confused.
Distracted.
Perfect.
I moved instantly, using the chaos to take down the second.
Then the third.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Complete.
---
When I turned back, she was still standing there.
Gun lowered.
Breathing steady.
Eyes on me.
"You're insane," I said.
She shrugged slightly.
"Worked, didn't it?"
I exhaled sharply.
"You don't follow orders."
"I never said I did."
"No," I muttered. "You didn't."
A pause.
Then—
"You're welcome, by the way."
I almost laughed.
Almost.
---
The night fell quiet again.
Too quiet.
I didn't like quiet.
Not after everything.
"Something's wrong," I said.
She nodded slowly.
"I feel it too."
A second passed.
Then—
A red dot appeared again.
Not on her.
On me.
Sniper adjusted.
Target switched.
Smart.
Very smart.
My body tensed—
Too late.
The shot fired.