Chapter 7 Stolen Moments
1050 Words
*(Morning Scene)*
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**Golden Hour**
The first brush of sunlight painted Daniel's bare chest in molten gold as Emma traced idle patterns across his skin. The ocean whispered beneath their villa, a lazy rhythm that matched the slow rise and fall of his breathing. She'd woken before him—a rare occurrence—and took these stolen moments to memorize the way his dark lashes fanned against his cheeks, the slight part of his lips, the faint scar along his collarbone from a childhood accident he'd never explained.
Her fingertip grazed that scar now, feather-light.
Daniel's hand snapped up, catching her wrist. His eyes remained closed, but his mouth curved into that arrogant smirk she both loved and hated. "Staring, Parker?"
"Admiring my handiwork," she murmured, leaning down to kiss the scar. His heartbeat jumped beneath her lips.
A low hum vibrated in his chest as his fingers slid into her hair. "That's not where you left your marks last night."
Heat flooded her cheeks at the memory—his teeth on her inner thigh, her nails down his back. She pressed another kiss higher, along the column of his throat. "Maybe I want to make new ones."
Daniel's breath hitched when her tongue flicked over his pulse point. His grip tightened, tugging her up until their lips brushed. "You're playing with fire."
Emma smiled against his mouth. "Then burn me."
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**Slow Surrender**
The kiss started soft—just the barest press of lips, a tease. Daniel's hands roamed her bare back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. When she nipped at his lower lip, he growled, flipping them over in one fluid motion. The sheets tangled around their legs as he pinned her wrists above her head.
"Tell me what you want," he demanded, his voice rough with sleep and desire.
Emma arched beneath him. "You know."
"I want to hear it." His mouth trailed down her neck, teeth scraping where her pulse fluttered wildly. "Say it."
She gasped when his free hand slid between them. "Daniel—"
"Say. It."
The world narrowed to his touch, his scent, the way his hips pressed hers into the mattress. "You," she breathed. "I want you."
Daniel's control snapped.
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**The Fall**
Afterward, they lay tangled in the wreckage of sheets, limbs intertwined. Daniel's lips brushed her shoulder as he traced nonsense patterns on her stomach. Outside, the ocean glittered like shattered diamonds, but Emma only had eyes for the way the sunlight caught in his tousled hair.
"You're beautiful," he murmured against her skin.
She laughed, swatting his chest. "Now I know you're lying."
Daniel caught her hand, pressing it over his heart. Its frantic rhythm matched hers. "I don't lie about important things."
The raw sincerity in his voice stole her breath. In that moment, she almost said it—those three dangerous words burning in her chest.
Then—
The crash of shattering glass.
Daniel was on his feet before the echo faded, naked and lethal. "Stay behind me."
A crash echoed from the living area.
Both of them froze.
Daniel was out of bed in an instant, naked and lethal, grabbing the iron poker from the fireplace. Emma yanked on his discarded shirt, her pulse roaring in her ears.
Then the bedroom door burst open.
Three men in black tactical gear stormed in, guns raised.
Emma barely had time to scream before Daniel moved—fast as a striking snake. He swung the poker, catching the first man across the jaw with a sickening crack. The second lunged, but Daniel twisted, driving his elbow into the man’s throat.
The third man grabbed Emma, wrenching her arms behind her back.
"Daniel!"
He turned, eyes wild—just as the first man recovered, slamming the butt of his pistol into Daniel’s temple.
Blood sprayed across the white sheets as Daniel crumpled.
Emma fought like a wildcat, nails raking down her captor’s face. "Let me go!"
A sharp prick in her neck.
The world blurred.
The last thing she saw was Daniel’s unconscious body sprawled on the floor, blood pooling beneath his head.
Then—nothing.
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### **The Aftermath**
Daniel came to with a roar, surging upright—only to be met with the barrel of a gun pressed between his eyes.
"Easy, Mr. Sterling," a cool voice said.
The man was new—older, with a military bearing and a scar cutting through his eyebrow. Behind him, the villa was trashed, the glass doors shattered.
Daniel’s vision swam, but his voice was steel. "Where is she?"
"Safe. For now." The man holstered his gun, tossing Daniel a phone. "Your father wants to talk."
The screen flickered to life. Charles Sterling’s face filled the display, his expression unreadable.
"Daniel."
Daniel saw red. "You son of a b***h—"
"Listen carefully," Charles interrupted. "Emma’s unharmed. She’ll stay that way—if you comply."
Daniel’s hands shook with the urge to strangle someone. "What do you want?"
"the Files, The ones you stole from our private servers." Charles leaned forward. "You bring them to me, and Emma walks away."
A lie. Daniel knew it. But he also knew he had no choice.
"Where?"
"New York. Tonight."
The call ended.
The scarred man tossed Daniel a set of keys. "Your plane leaves in an hour."
Daniel didn’t move. "If she’s hurt—"
"She won’t be." The man smirked. "Unless you f**k this up."
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### **Emma’s Prison**
Emma woke in a sterile white room, her wrists cuffed to a chair. Her head throbbed, her mouth cotton-dry.
The door opened.
Sophia Vasquez strolled in, heels clicking, a file tucked under her arm.
"Welcome back, darling."
Emma spat at her feet.
Sophia sighed, wiping her shoe with a tissue. "Charming." She flipped open the file, revealing surveillance photos—Daniel and Emma at the villa, in the pool, in bed.
Emma’s stomach twisted.
"Your boyfriend has a choice to make," Sophia purred. "His company… or you."
Emma laughed, the sound raw. "He’ll burn Sterling Media to the ground before he lets you win."
Sophia smile turned knife-sharp. "Oh, I’m counting on it."
Then she left, locking the door behind her.
Emma sagged in the chair, her mind racing.
Somewhere, Daniel was coming for her.
And hell was coming with him.
- Writer
