CHAPTER 4 - THE PENTHOUSE AMBUSH
796 Words
The city never really slept not when Adrian Voss ruled half of it from the top of his glass tower.
Elena had spent the last two days memorizing every inch of the penthouse the floor plan, escape routes, pressure sensors, even the pattern of the night lights along the terrace. If VossTech was a fortress, this suite was its heart. And she, the new bodyguard, was its reluctant pulse.
Adrian’s world was all precision and control.
Every door opened by facial recognition. Every security code changed hourly. Every second of silence felt deliberate like even the air obeyed him.
“Observe everything, Miss Rivers. I don’t hire blind eyes.”
Now, as the city glittered below, Elena stood in the living room her eyes scanning the glass walls that turned night into a mirror. Adrian sat at his desk, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled, pen dancing across a file. The quiet hum of his focus was almost hypnotic.
But she didn’t trust quiet.
Silence, she had learned, was where death hid best.
The elevator beeped softly behind her.
Her hand instinctively brushed the concealed pistol at her waist.
Adrian didn’t look up. “Relax,” he said without glancing her way. “It’s just room service.”
Room service never arrived without calling first.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Step back,” she murmured, moving toward the door.
But the second she reached it the lights flickered.
Then died.
Darkness swallowed the penthouse whole.
“Adrian, get down!” she shouted.
A silenced bullet sliced through the glass, inches from his head.
He didn’t flinch he smirked.
Within seconds, she flipped the marble table for cover, yanked Adrian down behind it, and drew her gun. The night outside flashed with faint muzzle bursts from a nearby rooftop.
“Two shooters. Northeast,” she calculated aloud.
“How can you”
“Reflections,” she snapped. “Don’t move.”
Her voice was all steel now the calm of a woman who’d danced with death before. She moved through the dark like a shadow, rolled across the floor, and pressed her back to the wall. A laser dot blinked across the glass again.
She aimed.
One shot. One kill.
The laser disappeared.
The second attacker tried to reposition she fired again, shattering the glass in a rain of diamonds. Silence returned. The storm passed as quickly as it came.
Elena stood still for three breaths, waiting for the world to settle.
Behind her, Adrian’s calm voice broke the quiet.
“You saved my life. Again.”
She turned. “That’s my job.”
He rose slowly, dusting glass from his sleeve, his gaze cutting through the dim emergency light.
For a moment, there was something human there admiration, curiosity, and a flicker of déjà vu.
“You’re fast,” he said. “Too fast for a regular bodyguard.”
Her jaw tightened. “I’m trained.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” he murmured, stepping closer. “But trained by whom?”
Her silence was answer enough.
He stopped just in front of her, the city lights painting gold along his cheekbones. “You’ve got secrets, Miss Rivers. Dangerous ones.”
“And you’ve got enemies,” she countered. “Tonight wasn’t random.”
Adrian’s gaze dropped to the shattered window. “No, it wasn’t. And whoever sent those men wanted to test me. Or… test you.”
That unsettled her.
She looked toward the skyline, scanning rooftops. “You think this was a setup?”
“I think,” he said softly, “someone wanted to see how far you’d go to protect me.”
When she turned back, he was studying her really studying her like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. The corner of his mouth curved slightly, half amusement, half challenge.
“You’re hired, Miss Rivers,” he said finally. “But understand this” he leaned in just enough for his breath to brush her ear,
“Don’t ever lie to me.”
Her pulse stumbled.
Then the moment was gone he turned away, already calling security, voice cool and controlled.
Elena holstered her weapon, heart still pounding.
In the reflection of the dark glass, she caught her own eyes cold, sharp, but beneath that… something else. Something that hadn’t been there in years.
Fear.
Not of death but of recognition.
He didn’t remember her yet.
But if he ever did…
She glanced at the single bullet hole in the glass and whispered under her breath,
“You should’ve let me die the first time, Adrian.”
Security sweeps the area, finding nothing no shooter, no drone, no trace. But on the broken balcony railing, Elena finds a red feather a mark from her old syndicate.
Someone knows exactly who she is.
- Writer
