Is she hurt
1393 Words
Vivian POV
People say time heals everything.
They’re wrong.
Sometimes, time doesn’t heal.
It simply teaches you how to smile while carrying a wound no one else can see.
Five days had passed since Damien looked me in the eyes and told me he wasn’t married.
Five days since the man who had once memorized every little thing about me had asked me the cruelest question imaginable.
“Who are you?”
I should have been broken.
Maybe a part of me was.
But life had an annoying habit of refusing to stop simply because your heart had.
So neither did I.
The newsroom buzzed with its usual chaos. Phones rang without pause, keyboards clicked relentlessly, and reporters hurried from one desk to another, chasing deadlines that waited for no one.
I buried myself in work.
It was easier than thinking.
Easier than remembering.
Every interview I conducted.
Every article I edited.
Every story I chased.
It all became an excuse not to think about the man who had forgotten I existed.
I had always believed the truth could save people.
Now, I wasn’t even sure it could save my own marriage.
I glanced at the clock mounted on the newsroom wall.
7:48 p.m.
Almost everyone had gone home.
Only a handful of us remained, determined to finish one last story before calling it a night.
I stretched my aching shoulders and reached for the stack of documents on my desk when my phone suddenly vibrated.
The screen lit up.
Unknown Number.
I frowned.
Very few people had my private number.
For a moment, I considered ignoring it.
Something told me not to.
I answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
The only sound was slow, uneven breathing.
“Hello?” I repeated, my voice firmer this time.
Still nothing.
Then…
A distorted voice spoke.
“You should’ve stayed away from the DeLucas.”
Every muscle in my body tensed.
“Who is this?”
The caller chuckled.
It was low.
Cold.
Almost amused.
“You’ve always been curious, Vivian.”
“But curiosity gets people killed.”
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone from my ear.
My heartbeat had quickened.
How did they know my name?
More importantly…
How did they know about the DeLucas?
Before I could process it, someone knocked lightly on my desk.
“Still here?”
I looked up.
It was my editor, folding his jacket over one arm.
“You’ve been working nonstop for five days,” he said. “Go home before I start thinking you actually enjoy paperwork.”
Despite everything, I managed a small smile.
“I’ll leave in a minute.”
“You’d better.”
He pointed toward the door.
“And don’t forget the weather forecast. They’re expecting one hell of a storm tonight.”
I glanced through the large glass windows overlooking the city.
Dark clouds had swallowed the evening sky.
Lightning flashed in the distance.
Moments later, thunder rolled across the city.
Something about tonight didn’t feel right.
And for reasons I couldn’t explain…
I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was already waiting for me outside.
I stared at my phone for several seconds before slipping it into my handbag.
A prank call?
No.
Whoever it was had known my name.
They had known about the DeLucas.
That wasn’t a coincidence.
“Vivian?”
I blinked, forcing myself back to reality.
My editor frowned. “You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine.” I offered a small smile that even I didn’t believe. “Just a strange phone call.”
He studied me for a moment but didn’t press further.
“Well, lock up before you leave. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
The newsroom gradually fell silent as the last few employees packed up and left.
Within minutes, I was alone.
I exhaled slowly.
Maybe I was overthinking everything.
After everything that had happened over the last five days, it wouldn’t be surprising if my mind was simply looking for danger where there wasn’t any.
I shut down my laptop and carefully arranged the files scattered across my desk before slipping them into my leather satchel.
As I reached for my coat, another flash of lightning illuminated the windows.
The rain had started.
Not the gentle kind.
Sheets of rain hammered against the glass as thunder shook the building.
I sighed.
“Perfect timing.”
Pulling my coat tighter around me, I switched off the office lights and stepped into the hallway.
The elevator doors opened almost immediately.
I stepped inside.
The ride down felt unusually long.
When the doors finally slid open, the lobby was almost deserted.
The receptionist looked up from her desk.
“Heading home, Miss Carter?”
“Looks like it.”
She glanced toward the entrance where rain lashed against the glass doors.
“You might want to wait until the storm eases.”
I smiled politely.
“If I wait for this storm to end, I’ll be sleeping here.”
She laughed softly.
“Drive safely.”
“I will.”
Pushing through the revolving doors, I was immediately greeted by a blast of cold wind.
Rain soaked the pavement, reflecting the city lights like shattered mirrors.
I opened my umbrella and hurried toward the parking lot.
Most of the cars were gone.
Only a handful remained.
The sound of my heels echoed across the wet concrete.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Then…
Another sound.
Footsteps.
I stopped walking.
The footsteps stopped too.
My grip tightened around the umbrella.
Slowly, I turned around.
Nothing.
The parking lot was empty.
Just rows of parked cars glistening beneath the rain.
I let out a quiet breath.
“Get a grip, Vivian,” I muttered to myself.
“You’ve been working too hard.”
I turned back around—
And froze.
A black umbrella stood several yards away.
Someone was beneath it.
Completely still.
The rain concealed every detail except the outline of a tall figure dressed entirely in black.
I couldn’t see the person’s face.
Only darkness beneath the umbrella.
A chill ran down my spine.
For reasons I couldn’t explain…
The stranger wasn’t watching the building.
He was watching me.
The stranger stopped.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.
Rain hammered against the pavement, soaking us both as thunder rumbled overhead.
I couldn’t see his face.
Only the shadow beneath the hood.
Slowly…
He slipped a gloved hand inside his coat.
Every instinct in my body screamed at me to run.
But before I could move—
He drew a pistol.
Matte black.
Fitted with a suppressor.
My breath caught.
The barrel rose with terrifying precision…
Until it was aimed directly at my forehead.
Time froze.
The rain.
The thunder.
The city.
Everything disappeared.
There was only the man…
And the gun.
His finger tightened around the trigger.
I took an involuntary step backward.
My heel caught against the curb.
I lost my balance and stumbled onto the wet pavement.
The assassin didn’t hesitate.
He adjusted his aim.
Ready to finish the job.
Then—
The deafening roar of engines shattered the silence.
Blinding headlights swept across the parking lot.
A convoy of black SUVs burst through the entrance at full speed, tires screeching across the rain-soaked asphalt.
The assassin reacted instantly.
He fired.
The bullet whistled past my face, grazing a strand of my hair before burying itself in the concrete behind me.
The lead SUV drifted sideways, blocking the assassin’s line of sight.
Doors flew open before the vehicles had even stopped moving.
Men in black tactical suits poured out with military precision, rifles already raised.
“Move!”
“Cover the perimeter!”
“Don’t let him escape!”
Gunfire erupted.
The assassin fired twice in rapid succession before disappearing into the storm, using the darkness and pouring rain as cover.
Within seconds…
He was gone.
I remained on the ground, unable to move.
My heart pounded violently against my ribs.
I had almost died.
Heavy footsteps approached through the rain.
Slow.
Measured.
Authoritative.
The armed men immediately lowered their weapons.
Someone had arrived.
Someone important.
A deep voice cut through the storm.
“Is she hurt?”
For reasons I couldn’t explain…
The sound of that voice made my heart skip.
I looked up slowly.
And froze.
Damien DeLuca.
- Writer
