Beyond The Ethics:

Chapter 3: First blood

Sarah's POV

My hands wouldn't stop shaking as I stepped out of the elevator. The image of Frank's cold smile was burned into my mind, David knew he knew everything.

I needed to hear Chloe's voice immediately. My phone felt slippery in my sweaty hands as I dialed the school.

"Please pick up, please pick up." I chanted, my heart beating against my ribcage.

"Maple Creek Elementary, how may I help you?" a cheerful voice answered.

"This is Sarah Vance, Chloe's mother." My voice came out too fast, too panicked.

"I need to speak with her teacher immediately."

"One moment, Mrs Vance."

Every second felt like an hour. What if David had already done something? What if he'd taken her?

"Mrs Vance? This is Mrs Dale, Is everything alright?" Chloe's teacher asked, sounding concerned.

"Is Chloe there? Is she safe?"

"She's right here in class, Mrs Vance. She's perfectly fine."

The relief made my knees weak, i leaned against the cold marble wall. "Thank you, please... please don't let anyone else pick her up today, not even her father."

There was a pause. "Mrs Vance, is there something we should know?"

"Just... please." I hung up, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

My phone buzzed immediately. A text from Marcus.

My office. Now. Back entrance.

When I slipped through the private entrance, Marcus was already waiting, his face grim.

"We need to talk Sarah, I just got a complete info on David.." he said, leading me to his office.

"David knows you were here. He'll make his move soon."

"He already has." I said, my voice trembling. "His driver was waiting for me, he took pictures."

Marcus's eyes darkened. "That wasn't just surveillance, it was a warning." He began pacing.

"We need to act fast, David will use every dirty trick he knows."

We spent the next hour going through documents, building our case. Marcus was brilliant, his mind moving quickly through complex legal strategies. But every time our hands brushed reaching for papers, that old electricity sparked between us.

"We need to be prepared for anything," Marcus said, his voice serious. "David won't fight fair. He'll—"

Suddenly a loud gunshot, rang out shattering the atmosphere, a second one followed shattering the window behind Marcus's desk.

"Get down!" Marcus shouted, his body slamming into mine as he shoved us both to the floor. Glass rained down around us like deadly rain.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I could feel was the hard weight of Marcus on top of me, his arm cradling my head, his breath hot against my neck. The world narrowed to the smell of his cologne, the sound of shattering glass, and the beating of my own heart.

"Stay down." he growled into my ear, his body tensing with every shot.

When the shooting stopped, the silence felt heavier than the noise. We lay there for a long moment, tangled together on the floor. His heart pounded against my back, a frantic rhythm that matched my own.

Slowly, he shifted. His face was inches from mine, his blue eyes dark with adrenaline. A shard of glass was caught in his dark hair, without thinking I reached up and brushed it away, my fingers trembled against his temple.

He caught my wrist, his grip firm but not painful, his eyes was thick with emotions. The professional distance between us evaporated in the heat of survival.

He was going to kiss me. I saw it in the dilation of his pupils, in the way his gaze dropped to my lips. And God help me, I wanted him to, after the terror, the shock, the violation I needed to feel something real, something alive.

But he pulled back, his lawyer's discipline proving itself.

"We need to get out of here, now." His voice was rough, stripped of its usual polished control.

He helped me up, his arm strong around my waist as my legs threatened to buckle. For one searing moment, every line of his body was pressed against mine.

I felt the hard lines of his chest, the solid strength of his thighs, my breath hitched, my n****e hardened beneath my blouse.

His eyes burned into me. The warning was there the ethics agreement, the professional boundaries but it was drowned out by the roar of blood in my ears.

Then he was moving, pulling me toward a private elevator.

"We're going to a safe house."

The safe house was a modest apartment in a quiet neighborhood, completely different from Marcus's sleek office.

The safe house door clicked shut, sealing us in the dim silence. Marcus didn't turn on the lights, his broad shoulders blocking what little light filtered through the blinds. I could feel his gaze burning through me in the darkness.

"Still shaking," he noted, his voice low as he took my trembling hands in his.

"Adrenaline," I breathed, though we both knew it was more than that.

His thumb stroked my wrist, right over my pounding pulse. "We almost died today."

The words hung between us, heavy and undeniable. My eyes stung with unshed tears, that was when his mouth crashed down on mine.

This wasn't the gentle kiss of lovers reuniting, this was raw desperate kiss, filled with lustful hunger.

His hands framed my face, holding me still as he invaded my mouth stealing my breath. When he finally broke away, we were both panting.

"Please tell me to stop Sarah." he pleaded, his forehead pressed against mine.

I couldn't, my fingers were already working the buttons of his dress shirt, revealing the strong abs of his chest. His expensive suit jacket hit the floor with a soft thud.

He backed me against the wall, his hands sliding under my blouse. "I've wanted this since you walked into my office." he growled against my neck, his teeth scraping my sensitive skin.

"Wanted to see if you'd still taste the same."

We stumbled toward the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing. When we fell onto the bed, there was no more pretense of gentleness.

His hands were everywhere in my hair, on my breasts, between my thighs as if he needed to memorize every inch of me through touch alone.

"Look at me." he commanded teasing my boobs.

His eyes were dark with desire and lust.

"Tell me who owns you baby?" He asked teasing my entrance, with his massive d**k.

"Marcus Throneeeeeee." I moaned shamelessly.

"Very good my naughty girl." He beamed

"Now I want you to remember who's inside you."

Suddenly he entered me with a sharp, deliberate thrust that made me cry out.

He paused, watching my face with an intensity that should have frightened me. Instead, it only made me wetter wanting him more.

"More, please oh Marcus." I moaned, my nails digging into his shoulders.

A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips.

"Greedy, naughty girl" he murmured, but he gave me what I wanted, grounding my honeypot in a way that was both punishing and perfect.

This wasn't making love, this was a claiming. Every thrust was a reminder that he once owned me.

The bed slammed against the wall with our frantic movements, but neither of us cared.

When my orgasm ripped through me, I screamed his name, my body arching off the bed.

He followed moments later with a manly rich groan, collapsing against me but careful to keep his weight on his elbows.

We lay tangled together, our sweaty naked body cooling in the dim room. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back.

"That shouldn't have happened," he said finally, though he made no move to pull away.

I lifted my head to meet his gaze. "Are you sorry?"

The discussion was broken by the buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He picked it up, and I saw his body go rigid.

"What is it?" I asked, anxiously.

Without a word, he showed me the screen. There was a photo of us moments before, caught in our passionate embrace. The message below was simple.

"Drop the case or this goes public."