Baptism of fire
471 Words
Morning broke over the Moretti estate, but the heavy clouds refused to let sunlight through.
It felt fitting — like the calm before a storm.
Aira stood in the courtyard, wearing black leggings and a fitted top Damien had sent for her, facing a row of armed trainers — men who looked like they had seen real wars.
Damien stood to the side, his arms crossed, watching her with a quiet intensity that unsettled her more than any weapon could.
"You're not here to impress me," he said.
"You’re here to survive."
Aira nodded, swallowing her fear.
Aira decides to survive on her own terms.
The first lesson was brutal.
How to break free from a chokehold.
How to disarm an attacker.
How to run when running was the smartest choice.
Her muscles screamed. Her palms bled when she fell onto the gravel during a rough takedown.
But she didn’t stop.
Damien’s men exchanged surprised glances — most women broke after the first hour.
But Aira Sharma?
She stood up again and again, gritting her teeth against the pain.
From the shadows, Damien watched, something tightening in his chest.
Damien realizes she’s stronger than he thought
When the session ended, Aira dropped onto a bench, breathing hard, her body trembling.
Damien walked over, a towel in his hand.
She expected a lecture.
Instead, he knelt in front of her, pressing an ice pack gently to her scraped knuckles.
"You did good," he said softly, his voice rough around the edges.
Aira blinked at him, stunned.
For a moment, the walls between them cracked — just a little.
"Don't get used to it," she muttered, trying to hide the strange flutter in her chest.
Damien chuckled, low and dangerous. "Wouldn’t dream of it, bella."
Before either could say more, a loud crack echoed through the air.
Gunshot.
Aira froze.
Damien reacted instantly, pulling her behind him, his gun already drawn from inside his jacket.
From the treeline at the far end of the courtyard, a dark figure darted away — gone before anyone could catch them.
"Who the hell was that?" Aira whispered, her heart racing.
Damien didn’t answer immediately.
His jaw clenched, his body coiled with silent fury.
Finally, he turned to her, his voice grim.
"This is your new reality, Aira," he said.
The first direct threat to Aira’s life.
"You’re not just my wife.
You’re the biggest target in this war now."
Aira met his gaze, fear swirling in her stomach.
But under the fear, something stronger began to burn — anger.
She wouldn’t live her life hiding in shadows.
Straightening her shoulders, Aira stared at the place the gunman had disappeared.
"Then teach me faster," she said coldly.
Damien’s eyes gleamed with something almost like pride.
"Careful, cara mia," he murmured.
"You're starting to sound like a Moretti
- Writer
