CHAPTER…..SEVEN
991 Words
CHAPTER SEVEN
(Lina’s POV)
It happened because I wanted to see the city.
That was the excuse I gave him.
“I’ve been in your house for days,” I said softly, standing in front of him while he fastened his watch. “I want to write about something real.”
His eyes lifted from his wrist to my face.
“Nothing outside is real,” he said.
“Then let me see the lie,” I whispered.
He hesitated.
That should have warned me.
We drove with two of his men in front of us and two behind. The city looked different from inside his car smaller, quieter, like it knew who was passing through.
He took me to a café by the river. Expensive. Empty.
He sat across from me while I drank tea I didn’t need and pretended to write in my notebook.
“Do you always bring guards?” I asked.
“Always,” he said.
“Because of me?”
“Yes.”
The word warmed and frightened me.
When we left, the sky had begun to darken. He held my hand as he guided me toward the car.
That was when a man stepped out from between two parked vehicles.
He looked ordinary.
That was the most dangerous thing about him.
“Mr. Sokolov,” he said calmly. “You made an agreement with my employer.”
Adrian didn’t release my hand.
“I ended that agreement,” he replied.
“You can’t,” the man said. “You don’t get to walk away.”
I felt Adrian’s grip tighten.
“Get back in the car,” he told me quietly.
I didn’t move.
The man’s eyes flicked to me.
“And this?” he asked. “Is this what made you careless?”
Adrian shifted, placing himself in front of me without touching me.
“Leave,” he said.
“You brought her to a business place,” the man said. “That was your mistake.”
Time slowed.
I saw the gun before I understood it.
I screamed.
Not because I was afraid for myself.
Because I saw Adrian’s face.
Not angry.
Not surprised.
Certain.
He moved.
Fast.
There was no struggle. No drama.
Only a sharp sound that made my ears ring.
The man fell.
I didn’t look down.
I couldn’t.
Adrian turned to me immediately.
“Look at me,” he said.
I did.
His hands were warm on my arms.
“Are you hurt?”
I shook my head.
My teeth chattered.
“I told you to stay in the car,” he said, not harshly. “You don’t listen well.”
“I didn’t know...” My voice broke. “I didn’t know he would.."
“I did,” he said.
I stared at him.
“You knew?”
“There are always men waiting for me.”
“But you brought me anyway.”
“Yes.”
The word landed heavy.
The guards moved around us. One of them spoke into a phone. Another stood between me and the body.
Adrian didn’t let go of me.
“You killed him,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“For me.”
“For you,” he agreed.
My stomach turned.
I had wanted evidence.
I had wanted to watch him from a distance.
I had not wanted this.
We were back in the car before my hands stopped shaking.
I pressed my forehead against the glass.
I had trained for danger.
Not devotion.
Back at the house, he didn’t take me to his study.
He took me to his room.
“Sit,” he said.
I did.
He knelt in front of me.
Not like a king.
Like a man.
“Look at me,” he said again.
I did.
“You don’t have blood on you,” he said. “That’s what matters.”
“Why did you do it?” I asked.
His gaze didn’t leave my face.
“Because he was going to scare you.”
“He was going to shoot you.”
“He was going to look at you like you were nothing.”
My chest tightened.
“I don’t belong in your world,” I said.
“No,” he said. “My world doesn’t deserve you.”
The words made something inside me crack.
“You didn’t have to kill him,” I whispered.
“Yes,” he said simply. “I did.”
Silence.
Then: “Do you know what you are?”
I shook my head.
“You are a weakness,” he said. “And I do not have weaknesses.”
“But you do now.”
“Yes.”
He stood and turned away from me.
“I warned you I ruin things.”
“You didn’t ruin me,” I said.
“You will remember this,” he said. “And you will leave.”
“I don’t want to leave.”
He turned back slowly.
“That is the problem.”
I saw something I hadn’t seen before.
Fear.
Not of death.
Of caring.
That night, I washed my hands until my skin burned.
Not because they were dirty.
Because they weren’t.
I had stood behind him while he killed a man for me.
I should have felt powerful.
I felt small.
Later, he lay beside me without touching me.
“You won’t write about this,” he said.
“I will,” I whispered.
“Then write this,” he said. “I didn’t kill him because he threatened me.”
“Why did you kill him?”
“Because he made you afraid.”
I turned my face into the pillow so he wouldn’t see me cry.
Because that was the moment I knew:
I was no longer collecting evidence.
I was collecting blood.
And the man I was meant to destroy had just proved
he would destroy the world for me instead.
- Writer
