Protection isn't about strength.
It's about choice.
The choice to stand between danger and someone who doesn't even trust you.
The choice to take the hit… even when it isn't your fight.
And the worst part?
When that choice stops feeling like a job.
---
"Step away from her."
The command cut through the night—cold, controlled, final.
Weapons aimed.
Multiple.
Precise.
Professionals.
I didn't move.
Couldn't.
Because she was still in my arms.
Still too quiet.
Still too still.
"Last warning," the voice added.
I shifted slightly, positioning my body over hers, shielding her without thinking.
Instinct.
Not strategy.
Not smart.
But necessary.
"You take another step," I said, my voice low and lethal, "and this ends badly."
A pause.
Then—
A figure stepped forward.
Tall. Clean. Calm in a way that didn't match the situation.
Not rushed.
Not tense.
Like he knew something I didn't.
"We're not here to kill you," he said.
"Then lower your weapons."
"No."
I almost smiled.
"Then we have a problem."
He studied me for a moment, eyes sharp, calculating.
Then his gaze shifted—to her.
Everything about him changed.
Subtle.
But I saw it.
Interest.
Recognition.
Danger.
"Is she alive?" he asked.
"None of your concern."
"It is if you want her to stay that way."
My grip tightened.
"You're not touching her."
"I don't need to," he replied calmly. "But if she bleeds out while you argue, that's on you."
That hit.
Hard.
I looked down at her.
Her breathing—barely there.
Her pulse—weak under my fingers.
Damn it.
---
"What do you want?" I asked.
The man stepped closer, slow enough not to trigger a reaction.
"Take her," he said. "Stabilize her. Keep her alive."
"And in return?"
His lips curved slightly.
"You don't die tonight."
I didn't like that answer.
Didn't like him.
Didn't like any of this.
But—
Time was running out.
Fast.
---
"She doesn't leave my sight," I said.
"She won't."
"No tricks."
He raised a brow.
"You're not in a position to make demands."
"Try me."
Silence.
Heavy.
Then—
"Fine," he said. "You stay."
I didn't relax.
Didn't trust it.
But it was enough.
For now.
---
"Move," he ordered his men.
They did.
Efficient.
Disciplined.
Not like Adrian's.
Better.
That made them worse.
---
I carried her to the vehicle myself.
Didn't let go.
Didn't let anyone else touch her.
Even when one of them tried to assist—
I shut it down with a look.
"Back off."
He did.
Smart.
---
Inside the vehicle, the world narrowed again.
Just me.
Her.
And the sound of her fading breath.
"Stay with me," I muttered, pressing harder against the wound.
Blood soaked through my hand.
Too much.
Still too much.
"You're stubborn," I added quietly. "Don't quit now."
No response.
Not even a twitch.
My chest tightened.
Unfamiliar.
Unwanted.
---
"Driver," I snapped. "Move."
The engine roared to life instantly.
We sped off into the night.
---
Minutes passed.
Too slow.
Every second felt like it was slipping through my fingers.
Like she was slipping through my fingers.
"Stay with me," I said again, lower this time.
Her lashes fluttered faintly.
"…still… bossy…"
Relief hit harder than it should have.
"Yeah," I muttered. "You noticed."
Her lips moved slightly.
"Don't… let them…"
Her voice faded before she could finish.
"Let them what?" I pressed.
No answer.
Just silence again.
Damn it.
---
The vehicle came to a stop.
Fast.
Sharp.
"Out," the man said.
I didn't wait.
I stepped out immediately, carrying her inside before anyone could offer help.
---
The building was clean.
Too clean.
Private.
Secure.
Not a hospital.
Better.
Or worse.
---
"Here," someone said, opening a door.
I entered without hesitation.
Laid her down carefully.
Stepped back—
Only when I had to.
---
"Move aside," a voice said.
I didn't.
"She needs treatment," they added.
"I'll do it."
"You're injured."
"I'm not the one bleeding out."
A pause.
Then—
"Fine," the man said again. "But if she dies, that's on you."
"Not happening."
---
I worked fast.
Cutting fabric.
Cleaning the wound.
Stopping the bleeding.
Focused.
Controlled.
No room for error.
No room for hesitation.
Because hesitation—
Got people killed.
---
"You care," the man said from the doorway.
I didn't look up.
"Wrong."
"Then why risk everything for her?"
"Because she's my responsibility."
"Is that all?"
"Yes."
Lie.
Again.
I ignored it.
---
Time blurred.
Minutes.
Hours.
Didn't matter.
All that mattered—
Was her breathing.
Her pulse.
Still there.
Still fighting.
---
Finally—
She moved.
A small shift.
A breath.
Then—
Her eyes opened.
Slowly.
Unfocused at first.
Then—
Locked on me.
"You're… still here…"
"Yeah."
Her gaze softened slightly.
"You didn't… leave…"
"Not my style."
A faint smile.
Weak.
But real.
"Good…"
Her eyes closed again.
Not unconscious.
Just resting.
Alive.
---
I exhaled slowly.
For the first time since this started.
---
"You're lucky," the man said behind me.
I didn't turn.
"She's strong."
"I know."
"And you?" he asked.
"What about me?"
"Why are you still here?"
I finally looked at him.
"Because I said I would be."
He studied me.
Longer this time.
Deeper.
Then—
"That's not the real reason."
I didn't respond.
Because the truth?
Was getting harder to ignore.
---
Behind me, Valentina shifted slightly.
Closer.
Even in sleep.
Like she knew I was there.
Like she needed me there.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
---
I looked down at her.
At the fire that hadn't burned out.
At the fight that refused to fade.
At the woman who had turned a job into something else entirely.
---
And for the first time—
I realized something I shouldn't.
Something I couldn't afford.
Something that would get us both killed if I wasn't careful.
---
She wasn't just under my protection anymore.
---
I was under hers too.
---
The door creaked open.
Another man stepped in.
Different.
Colder.
More dangerous.
His eyes landed on her—
Then on me.
And something in his expression shifted.
Recognition.
Not good.
Not good at all.
---
"…So it's true," he said quietly.
I straightened slightly.
"What is?"
His gaze didn't leave her.
"The heiress survived."
My grip tightened.
"Who are you?"
A slow smile spread across his face.
"The next problem you won't see coming."
---
The lights flickered.
Then—
Cut out completely.
Darkness swallowed the room.
---
And somewhere in that darkness—
A gun clicked.