Chapter 5 - The First Time Nadia Pulled the TriggerDarian taught Nadia to shoot on a Sunday.
She hated every second of it.
The private range beneath the estate smelled of metal, oil, and burned powder.
Darian placed a compact pistol on the counter.
Nadia stared at it.
“I don’t like guns.”
“Good.”
“That’s an unusual response.”
“People who enjoy guns too much usually shouldn’t have them.”
He showed her how to check the chamber.
How to hold it.
How to stand.
How to breathe.
Nadia’s first shot missed the target entirely.
Darian said nothing.
Her second hit the outer edge.
Her third moved closer.
By the twentieth, she was furious.
“This is ridiculous.”
“You’re anticipating recoil.”
“I’m anticipating an explosion happening six inches from my face.”
“Reasonable.”
“Thank you.”
“Still wrong.”
She glared at him.
Darian stepped behind her.
His hands settled over hers.
“Relax.”
“Your solution to someone holding a loaded gun is ‘relax’?”
His mouth moved near her ear.
“You trusted me when I was holding one.”
“I was stupid.”
“You were.”
She elbowed him.
He laughed.
Then his voice became serious.
“Front sight.”
Nadia focused.
“Breathe.”
She breathed.
“Squeeze. Don’t pull.”
The gun fired.
The bullet struck near the center.
Nadia lowered the weapon.
Darian looked at the target.
“Again.”
By the end of the afternoon, Nadia could place five rounds inside a circle the size of her palm.
She did not feel powerful.
She felt responsible.
That distinction mattered.
Four days later, she needed the gun.
It happened outside her old diner.
Nadia had insisted on returning.
Not to work.
To resign properly.
Marta, the night manager, had covered shifts for her when she was sick and slipped free meals into takeout containers when Nadia had been too broke to buy groceries.
Nadia refused to disappear without saying goodbye.
Darian objected.
Nadia went anyway.
With security.
Two men remained outside.
She spent forty minutes inside.
Marta cried.
Nadia nearly did.
Then she walked into the alley behind the diner because Marta wanted help carrying boxes to the dumpster.
The first security guard went down before Nadia understood what was happening.
A suppressed shot.
A body collapsing.
Marta screamed.
Nadia grabbed her and dragged her behind the dumpster.
Another bullet struck brick.
Dust exploded.
“Nadia Costa!”
A man’s voice.
She almost laughed despite the terror.
Wrong surname.
She pulled the pistol Darian had insisted she carry.
Her hands shook.
“Nadia,” Marta whispered.
“Stay down.”
Footsteps.
Nadia remembered Darian.
Front sight.
Breathe.
Squeeze.
A man rounded the corner.
Gun raised.
Nadia fired.
He dropped.
She stared.
Everything became silent.
Then another man grabbed her from behind.
The pistol fell.
An arm crushed her throat.
Nadia clawed at it.
“Alive!” someone shouted. “Pendleton wants her alive!”
Nadia drove her heel backward.
The man cursed.
She bit his forearm.
Hard.
He screamed.
Nadia twisted free.
Then the alley erupted.
Darian’s men arrived from the street.
Gunfire.
Shouting.
A black SUV accelerated away.
Someone pulled Nadia behind a concrete wall.
Leo.
“Are you hit?”
“I don’t know.”
“Check.”
Her hands moved over her body.
No blood.
Across the alley, the man she had shot lay motionless.
Nadia stared at him.
“I killed him.”
Leo looked.
“No.”
“What?”
“He’s moving.”
The man groaned.
Relief hit Nadia so hard her knees buckled.
Leo caught her.
Then a car stopped at the mouth of the alley.
Darian emerged.
Nadia had never seen murder on a human face before.
Not metaphorical anger.
Not rage.
Murder.
He crossed the alley.
“Where is she?”
Leo moved aside.
Darian saw Nadia.
His expression shattered.
He grabbed her.
Hands over her face.
Her shoulders.
Her arms.
Checking.
“Nadia.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He pulled her against him.
Then saw the blood on her dress.
“It isn’t mine.”
His eyes moved to the wounded attacker.
“Who?”
“I shot him.”
Darian looked at her.
Something complicated passed through his face.
Pride.
Fear.
Grief.
He turned toward Leo.
“Take him alive.”
The attacker laughed weakly from the pavement.
“Julian sends his regards.”
Darian started toward him.
Nadia grabbed his hand.
“No.”
The wounded man smiled.
“He says thanks for proving the girl matters.”
Darian stopped.
Nadia stepped forward.
She was shaking.
But she looked down at the attacker.
“Tell Julian something.”
The man laughed.
Nadia crouched.
“Tell him he sent four men to kidnap a former maid.”
She glanced at the blood on his shirt.
“And they failed.”
The smile disappeared.
“Tell him next time he should send someone competent.”
Darian stared at her.
Later, in the penthouse bathroom, Nadia vomited.
She sat on the floor afterward.
Darian waited outside the door.
He did not enter.
“Nadia?”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Apparently I say that too much.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
She opened the door.
Darian was sitting on the floor outside.
The sight almost broke her.
This man owned buildings.
Judges returned his calls.
Men disappeared when he asked.
Yet he was sitting on marble outside a bathroom because she had asked for space.
Nadia sat beside him.
“I thought I killed him.”
“I know.”
“I was relieved when I didn’t.”
“Good.”
“What if next time I do?”
Darian looked straight ahead.
“Then you live with it.”
“That’s all?”
“No.”
He turned.
“You remember why you pulled the trigger.”
Nadia looked at her hands.
“I was scared.”
“That’s a reason.”
“Marta was behind me.”
“That’s another.”
“He was going to kill us.”
“Yes.”
Darian reached for her hand.
“You don’t have to become me to survive my world.”
“What if your world makes me like you?”
His expression changed.
“Then leave.”
Nadia stared.
“What?”
“If you ever look in the mirror and don’t recognize yourself because of me, leave.”
His voice was rough.
“I won’t stop you.”
She searched his face.
“Would you let me?”
“No.”
The honesty startled her.
“I’d want to lock every door.”
A humorless smile.
“I’d probably have Leo disable your car.”
Nadia almost laughed.
“But I wouldn’t.”
He squeezed her hand.
“Because you were right.”
“About what?”
“Protection without choice is a cage.”
Nadia leaned her head against the wall.
After a moment, Darian did the same.
They sat shoulder to shoulder.
Two exhausted people on a bathroom floor.
“I want Julian destroyed,” Nadia said.
Darian turned.
“But not because he came after me.”
“Why, then?”
“Because he thinks people are objects.”
Darian raised an eyebrow.
“That sounds familiar.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him deliberately.
“It should.”
He accepted the blow.
Nadia continued.
“Julian bought Martin. He uses people’s fear and greed. He thinks everyone has a price.”
“Most people do.”
“I did.”
Darian frowned.
“The gala. Triple my wages.”
“That wasn’t buying you.”
“It was.”
Nadia looked at him.
“But you made a mistake.”
“What?”
“You thought money bought obedience.”
Her eyes hardened.
“It only bought my time.”
Darian smiled slowly.
“And Julian?”
“We sell him the same mistake.”
The plan formed over the next hour.
Nadia would appear frightened.
She would withdraw from meetings.
Darian would publicly tighten security.
Rumors would spread that they were fighting.
Julian would believe pressure was working.
Then Nadia would contact Martin.
Officially, Martin was still Darian’s prisoner.
Unofficially, they would allow Julian to believe Martin had escaped.
A channel would reopen.
And through it, Nadia would feed Julian exactly what he wanted.
A weakness.
At two in the morning, the plan was finished.
Nadia stood by the windows.
Darian approached.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I won’t.”
“Neither will I.”
He stopped beside her.
The city stretched beneath them.
“You could still walk away.”
Nadia looked at him.
“So could you.”
“From this life?”
“From me.”
His expression hardened.
“No.”
“Then stop asking me.”
Darian’s hand touched her cheek.
This time Nadia did not pull away.
The kiss was nothing like the first.
The first had been collision.
This was choice.
Slow.
Careful.
Almost frightening in its restraint.
Nadia placed her hand against his chest.
His heart was pounding.
The discovery made her smile against his mouth.
Darian Costa was nervous.
She kissed him again.
May you like
And somewhere across the city, Julian Pendleton was waiting for fear to separate them.
Instead, fear had finally taught them how to stand together.
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