Chapter 6 - BLOOD AND BANDAGES
The incident at the gala changed everything. The invisible boundary between employer and employee vanished, replaced by a magnetic pull that terrified me as much as it thrilled me. But Vincent’s public display of protection had unintended consequences. The Russian syndicate, Vincent’s biggest rival in the city, realized that the untouchable King of Chicago finally had a weak spot.
Me.
It happened three nights later. I was in the estate’s greenhouse, cutting fresh herbs for the kitchen, enjoying the quiet. The glass shattered before I heard the gunshot.
A bullet grazed my upper arm, tearing through my sleeve. I hit the floor instantly, old survival instincts kicking in. Boots crunched on the broken glass. Three men in tactical gear stepped into the humid air of the greenhouse, their weapons raised.
“Grab the girl,” one of them barked in a heavy accent. “Calder will trade the docks for her.”
Before they could reach me, the heavy steel doors of the greenhouse burst open. Vincent didn’t send his men; he came himself. He moved with a terrifying, predatory grace, firing his sidearm with deadly precision. Two men dropped instantly, blood blooming across their chests. The third lunged at me with a combat knife.
I didn’t wait to be rescued. I grabbed heavy ceramic gardening shears and drove them upward, catching the man in the thigh. He screamed, dropping the knife, and in the next second, Vincent was there. He didn’t shoot the man. He grabbed him by the throat and threw him through the remaining glass wall, leaving him unconscious and bleeding in the dirt.
Vincent dropped his gun and fell to his knees beside me, his hands frantically scanning my body. “Harper. Look at me. Are you hit?”
“Just a graze,” I gasped, clutching my arm.
He pulled my hand away, inspecting the bloody tear in my shirt. The stoic, terrifying boss was gone. In his place was a man unraveling with panic. He ripped off his expensive tie, wrapping it tightly around my arm to stem the bleeding, his hands shaking slightly.
“I’m fine, Vincent,” I whispered, reaching up to touch his face.
May you like
He leaned into my touch, closing his eyes, a ragged breath escaping his lips. “I should have doubled the guards. I should have known they would come for you.” He opened his eyes, and the raw vulnerability in them shattered my heart. “I can’t lose you. I won't survive it.”
Right there, amidst the blood, broken glass, and the smell of gunpowder, Vincent kissed me. It wasn't gentle. It was desperate, fierce, and tasting of ash and adrenaline. And for the first time in my life, I kissed back with everything I had.
