The Heiress and the Hitman

Chapter Five:THE MAN WITH THE GUN

The world narrows to the black circle of the muzzle aimed straight at my heart.

I can’t move. Can’t breathe. The gun isn’t even that close, maybe two feet but it might as well be pressed cold against my sternum. My vision tunnels; the edges blurry and dark. Suddenly I’m not in the penthouse anymore. I’m back in the Hudson mansion's driveway from three months ago, asphalt warm from the day’s sun. The sharp crack of gunfire... My father’s body jerking once, twice, then folding slowly, blood blooming dark across his white shirt. The way his eyes found mine... wide with concern for me even while dying.The scream that tore out of me wasn’t even human.

A high, thin whine starts in my ears. My hands lift on instinct, palms out, trembling so violently the motion looks like surrender. Or prayer.

“Nicolai…” My voice cracks, barely a whisper. “Please.”

He doesn’t lower the gun. His face is unreadable again, that dangerous calm settling over him like a second skin. The man who was grinding me against the counter minutes ago is gone. In his place is the assassin...

“I don’t remember you,” he says quietly. Each word is measured.“I don't trust you. So start talking. Who are you really, Aria? And why the hell should I believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?”. The gun doesn’t waver.

My knees threaten to give. I lock them, forcing air into my lungs. “I've told you I'm your wife! We... we got married secretly four months ago. Just us and a small ceremony in Lisbon.." My voice fades out. His cold grey eyes narrow at me.

"How convenient... so we're the only ones who know about this supposed marriage then." His eyes darken again. His fingers tighten around the gun. "I see."

"No one else could know! My mother was never going to approve. My family is complicated... And you told me you didn’t want anyone else there because the world already took too much from you.” The lie spills out smoother than it should, greased by panic. His jaw tightens. Maybe I wasn't too far from the truth.

His eyes flicker to the ground, then back to my face. Still no movement from the gun.

“How did we meet?" His voice is gruff.

I swallow hard. "We met during a business trip, You were a security agent assigned to me by the agency. I was so alone... and you were there. We fell in Love..."

"I was a bodyguard?" His eyes drops to the gun in his hand. "That's why you have the gun..." I add quickly "You also did other jobs on the side. You never told me details because you said it was safer that way. But you always came back to me. Always.” My voice starts to shake.

The barrel stays trained on me. "Love?" He echoes quizzically "You fell in love with me?"

"It's why we got married." My hands are trembling now. "Nicolai..."

Something hot and wet slides down my cheek. I didn’t even realize I was crying.

“Please,” I whisper again. “Put the gun down.”

For the first time, something flickers in his eyes. Uncertainty, maybe. Or recognition of the raw terror now rolling off me in waves. He doesn’t lower the weapon.

My chest heaves. The whine in my ears turns into a roar. I see the muzzle flash again, hear the shots, smell copper and cordite. My father’s blood on my hands as I tried to press it back inside him uselessly. I can’t...

A sob rips out of me. My whole body starts shaking, violent tremors I can’t control. My legs finally give. I slide down until I’m sitting on the cold marble, arms wrapped around myself, rocking slightly. Tears stream hot and fast. I can’t look at the gun. Can’t look at him.

The clatter of metal on marble is sudden and sharp.

He’s put it down. On the counter. Far from my reach, but out of his hand.

He drops to one knee in front of me instantly, his movements careful, almost hesitant. “Aria?" His voice is different now, low, urgent, stripped of menace. “Hey... Look at me.”

I can’t. I’m shaking too hard. My teeth chatter.

He reaches out slowly, palms open. When I don’t flinch away, he cups my face with careful hands, thumb brushing the tears from my cheeks. “I'm Sorry." he says, softer than I’ve ever heard him.

“My father.” I choke out. Desperate to let out this burning in my chest. “Three months ago...They shot him right in front of me. I couldn’t… I couldn’t save him.” Another sob wrenches free. “I’ve been terrified ever since. The paranoia drives me crazy... most nights I have to drink myself to sleep. Every loud noise. Every shadow. I thought... I thought I was getting better…”

His thumb goes still on my cheek. His whole body goes rigid.

Then he pulls me forward gently and crushes me against his chest. His arm bands around my back, then cradles the back of my head. He tucks me under his chin, shielding me from the world, from the gun still lying silent on the counter.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into my hair. “God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

I’m trembling against him, but his warmth starts to seep in, steady and solid. He rocks us slightly, the way someone might soothe a frightened child. His heartbeat thuds strong under my cheek. I melt into him.

“You’re telling me the truth, aren't you?” he says quietly. It's not really a question. He seems to be talking more to himself. "About us. About everything.”

I nod against his chest, guilt twisting sharp in my gut. He believes me now. Because of my tears. Because of my father’s blood.

“I swear,” I whisper, voice muffled against his shirt. “You’re all I have left in the whole world.”

Something possessive and fierce flashes through his hold. His arm around me tightens. "I don’t remember the past.." His voice drops, rough with conviction. “But I remember this feeling. Protecting what’s mine. And you... You are Mine.” He pulls back just enough to tilt my face up, grey eyes burning into mine. “I will never let you feel that kind of fear again. I swear it on whatever’s left of my soul. Anyone who tries to hurt you… I’ll end them. Slowly.”

The promise should terrify me. Instead it wraps around the raw, hollow place inside my chest like armor.

He leans in and kisses me... Soft this time. Not claiming. Just comforting. Slow presses of lips, tender sweeps of tongue, until my shaking eases into something quieter. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine.

“I’ll never leave your side again,” he murmurs. “Not for a second.”

I'm not sure I want him to either. That’s the worst part.

Guilt burns hotter, but I swallow it down. I slide my arms around his neck, pull him closer, and kiss him again, deeper this time. His hands roam my back, reverent now, cradling me like I’m glass. Heat builds again, slower, sweeter. My fingers curl into his hair. His slide under the hem of my nightgown, tracing my spine.

We’re rising, bodies pressing closer, when the intercom next to the security panel buzzes... sharp and insistent.

Nicolai stills.

I freeze too.

The screen on the panel flickers to life automatically, showing the security feed. Marcus, My Ex, stands in the lobby, disheveled. “Is it connected now?... Aria? Aria, it’s Marcus. Are you okay? I was so worried. I got here about an hour ago but I couldn't access the private elevator. I can't reach your phone either. The guards are telling me the Penthouse's on lockdown. What the hell’s going on? Are you okay?”

His voice pours through the speaker, familiar and worried.

My stomach drops.

Nicolai freezes against me. His arms, so gentle a second ago, lock tightly, possessively, almost painful. I feel the shift in him instantly: the way his spine straightens, the way his breath changes from warm to edged. He doesn’t let go of me, but his head turns slowly toward the wall-mounted screen where the security feed has auto-populated.

Shit! I'd totally forgotten about Marcus. I had called him after the gala. Like I do most nights when I need quick s*x to take off the edge. No strings attached. We dated briefly in college before I broke things off. Now we were just friends. Well friends with benefits.

"She isn't answering... Are you sure it's connected?" His hair is mussed, jacket half-zipped, He's snapping at the guards, gesturing at the camera like he’s trying to will me to answer. He looks frantic.

Nicolai’s gaze stays locked on the screen. His jaw clenches so hard I hear the faint grind of teeth. A muscle ticks in his cheek. The tenderness from moments ago is gone; what’s left is something darker and colder. Jealousy so raw it borders on violence. His fingers flex against my waist, digging in like he’s staking territory.

Marcus’s voice cuts through again, softer now, almost pleading. “Aria, come on. I know you’ve been struggling since… everything. Just let me up. I’m worried about you.”

I can’t breathe. I’ve just barely gotten Nicolai to believe me... to cradle me like I’m the only thing keeping his fractured world together and now Marcus is thirty seconds from blowing the entire lie apart.

"Aria? Please answer me... I'm losing my damn mind here."

I'm frozen in place.

Nicolai’s head snaps back to me. His grey eyes are stormy, searching my face for something confirmation, denial, anything. A sliver of doubt creeps in behind the possessiveness; I can see it flicker there, sharp and dangerous. His hold on me doesn’t loosen, but it changes... Less cradle, more cage.

He leans in close, voice dropping to a low, venom laced whisper that vibrates against my skin.

“Who… Is that?”