Chapter 6- Public warning
679 Words
Chapter 6 — Public Warning
By morning, the broken chess piece had vanished from my desk.
I didn’t remove it—Ethan did. He claimed it was for “evidence,” but I knew it was also so no one else would see it and start asking questions I couldn’t answer.
The day’s schedule was packed: a press conference announcing the final phase of the Draycott merger negotiations. I’d argued with Ethan about canceling it, but he said pulling out now would only invite more suspicion.
“You need to be seen,” he told me in the car. “If they’re watching, they need to think you’re in control.”
“And if they’re watching, won’t that just paint a bigger target on me?”
He gave me a sidelong glance. “That’s why I’m here.”
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The conference was held in the grand ballroom of the Regal Tower Hotel—crystal chandeliers, gold accents, enough velvet curtains to smother an army. The room was already buzzing with reporters and flashing cameras when we arrived.
Ethan scanned the crowd like a soldier stepping into enemy territory, one hand brushing the inside of his jacket where I knew a weapon rested.
“Stay close to me,” he murmured.
I took my place at the podium, the Cross Enterprises logo gleaming behind me. My speech was short, rehearsed to perfection in the mirror until it felt like second nature. Smile when you need to, lower your voice for emphasis, don’t blink too long.
It was going smoothly—until the lights flickered.
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It lasted only a second, but it was long enough to freeze the room. Cameras clicked erratically, murmurs rippling through the audience.
I pushed on, refusing to let my voice waver. “As we move into the final stage of negotiations—”
BANG.
A sharp c***k split the air. My first thought was a blown lightbulb. My second was far worse.
Ethan was moving before I even processed what happened, stepping in front of me, one hand pushing me back from the podium. The ballroom erupted into chaos—reporters shouting, people scrambling for the exits.
The sound came again, this time unmistakable. Not a bulb. Not even close.
Gunfire.
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Ethan pulled me behind the heavy velvet curtain, his body shielding mine. “Stay down,” he ordered, voice low but fierce.
“What’s happening?” I whispered, my pulse hammering in my throat.
“Two shots. No one’s hit. Likely a warning.” He glanced toward the service exit. “We’re leaving—now.”
Security swarmed, ushering us through a maze of back hallways and into a waiting car. Only once the doors shut and the engine started did Ethan speak again.
“They’re getting bold,” he said, eyes still scanning the street. “First threats, then sabotage, now this. They’re trying to rattle you.”
“Mission accomplished,” I muttered, my hands still trembling.
His gaze finally met mine, and there was nothing casual about it. “You don’t get to rattle, Lena. You’re in the middle of a war you didn’t start, and every time you flinch, they win.”
“Easy for you to say—you’re not the one standing there pretending to be someone else.”
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous softness. “You think I don’t know what that’s like? I’ve spent my entire career being exactly who people needed me to be. That’s how you survive in this game.”
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The car stopped in front of Lucas’s penthouse, but neither of us moved right away.
Finally, Ethan spoke. “From now on, we double your security. No public appearances without my clearance. And Lena—”
I looked at him.
“If they ever fire at you again, you don’t freeze. You move. Understand?”
I swallowed hard. “Understood.”
But as we stepped out into the cool night air, one thought kept echoing in my mind:
They weren’t warning Lucas.
They were warning me.
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- Writer
