Nikolai Pov
The moment I heard the gunshots, I didn’t think—I just acted.
My hand shot out, grabbing Alex’s wrist, and I yanked her in front of me.
Not as a shield, never that—just to keep her moving.
The shots hissed past us, far too close. Were they aiming for her? For me? My chest tightened with the unspoken dread.
“Move!” I barked, dragging her through the chaos of the kitchen.
“Get down!” I shouted at the stunned kitchen staff.
They obeyed without question, scrambling to the floor like their lives depended on it—because they did.
The main exit loomed ahead, and Antonio was already there, waiting.
“Marlo and Cash are inside. They’re handling it,” he said, his voice sharp and steady.
As we burst out into the street, I wrapped my arm around Alex’s waist, keeping her glued to
