CHAPTER FIVE – THE FIRST STRIKE
1063 Words
Emily sat stiffly on the edge of a sleek leather couch, staring at the floor-to-ceiling windows of James Sterling’s penthouse. The glittering New York skyline stretched beyond the glass, but she couldn’t enjoy the view.
Not when her entire world was crumbling beneath her feet.
Not when she had just been followed.
Not when a faceless enemy wanted her gone.
Her fingers clenched against the soft fabric of her jeans as she replayed the last few hours in her mind.
The threats.
The SUV parked outside the café.
The way James had pulled her through the alley like he’d done this before.
Her chest tightened.
This wasn’t just about some inheritance. This was bigger.
And James knew it.
She turned to him, standing across the room, pouring himself a drink like they weren’t currently hiding from someone who might want her dead.
"You knew this would happen," Emily accused, her voice sharper than she intended.
James didn’t even blink. "I suspected."
She scoffed, shoving to her feet. "You suspected?" She let out a bitter laugh, throwing her hands up. "You dragged me into this—no warning, no explanation—and now I’m running for my life?"
James sipped his drink, unbothered. "Welcome to the real world, Emily."
Her blood boiled. She marched toward him, shoving a finger against his chest. "No, don’t you dare act like I should’ve known this was coming. You said my father had enemies, James—but you didn’t say they were trying to kill me."
James set his drink down and sighed, rubbing a hand along his jaw. "You were always in danger the second your father’s will was executed. Whether I told you or not wouldn’t have changed that."
Emily’s throat tightened. "Then why the hell am I even here? Why did you bring me to your place instead of letting me go home?"
James hesitated.
For the first time, something flickered in his expression—something restrained.
"Because you wouldn’t have made it through the night."
Emily stilled.
A cold shiver ran down her spine. "What?"
James met her gaze, serious. "The people after you aren’t just sending messages anymore. That SUV? They weren’t just watching you."
Her stomach twisted. "Then what were they doing?"
James picked up his phone and handed it to her.
Her heart pounded as she stared at the screen. A security camera still image.
Of her bookstore.
Her chest squeezed painfully. The lights were off, but the blurry image showed two figures dressed in black, slipping inside through the back door.
Her hands trembled as she zoomed in, her pulse roaring in her ears.
"They broke in?" she whispered.
James nodded. "Looking for something. Or someone."
Emily pressed the phone back into his hands, shaking her head. "No. No, this doesn’t make sense. Why my bookstore? What could they possibly want?"
James leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. "That’s what we need to find out."
Emily swallowed, her thoughts racing.
Someone had been inside her store. Her store. The one place in the world that belonged to her.
She had spent years building that shop from nothing. Scraping together every penny, working endless hours, making sacrifices just to keep it running.
And now…
It had been violated.
Rage bubbled in her chest. "I need to go there."
James let out a humorless chuckle. "Not happening."
She glared at him. "Excuse me?"
James sighed, as if she were exhausting him. "You’re not walking into a crime scene with people who clearly want you dead, Emily. That would be stupid."
Emily’s jaw tightened. "I don’t care if it’s stupid. That store is mine."
James pushed off the counter, stepping closer. "You’re mine to protect."
The words sent a jolt through her.
Not because they were possessive.
But because they sounded so final.
A quiet stretched between them, thick with something Emily couldn’t name.
James was close now. Too close.
She could see the way his dark blue eyes studied her, like he was searching for something beneath the frustration and anger written across her face.
She swallowed hard, pulse hammering. "You don’t own me, James."
His lips twitched slightly. "I know. But that doesn’t mean I’m letting you die on my watch."
Emily exhaled sharply, stepping back to put space between them.
This was dangerous.
Not just the people following her. Not just the inheritance.
James.
The way he moved, the way he spoke. Like he was always one step ahead. Like he had the power to get whatever he wanted.
And she had no idea if that included her.
She turned away, rubbing her temples. "Fine. But I’m not staying locked in here forever."
James smirked, as if he had already won. "We’ll see."
Emily shot him a glare before collapsing onto the couch, mind spinning.
Who were these people? What did they want?
And most importantly—why the hell was her life suddenly a target?
THE ATTACK
The first gunshot shattered the window.
Emily gasped, instinctively ducking as glass exploded around her.
James was already moving, grabbing her wrist and yanking her down behind the couch.
"Stay down!" he hissed.
Emily’s heart was pounding. "What the—"
Another shot.
James grabbed a gun from beneath the coffee table—because of course he had a gun hidden in his penthouse—and pressed himself against the couch.
Emily’s breathing was ragged. "James, what—"
"Shh," he murmured.
They stayed low as the sound of footsteps echoed from the fire escape outside.
James leaned toward the broken window, peering out carefully.
Then, in one smooth motion, he fired.
The footsteps scrambled. A muffled curse. Then silence.
Emily’s pulse roared in her ears. "What the hell just happened?!"
James exhaled, setting the gun down. "Someone just tried to kill you."
Emily let out a hysterical laugh. "Oh, fantastic! Good to know I’m not being paranoid!"
James shot her a look. "We need to move. Now."
Emily swallowed hard, glancing at the shattered glass around them.
This wasn’t just about threats anymore.
This was real.
Someone had actually tried to kill her.
Her entire body trembled.
James grabbed his keys, pulling her up. "We’re leaving."
Emily hesitated. "Where are we going?"
James’s jaw clenched. "Somewhere they can’t find you."
Emily didn’t argue this time.
Because for the first time in her life, she realized—
She wasn’t safe anymore.
- Writer
