Chapter 7 - THE BLOOD ON THE CARPET
Daniel lowered his pistol, his chest heaving slightly beneath his cashmere sweater.
He looked at the fallen intruder near the kitchen, then turned his gaze toward me.
“Are you hit?” he asked, rushing over and grabbing my shoulders.
“I’m fine,” I breathed, lowering my revolver.
“Are you?”
“I’m untouched,” Daniel said, his eyes scanning my face for any sign of injury.
“You saved my life, Emily.”
“You taught me how to shoot straight,” I joked weakly, though my hands were shaking.
Marcus walked into the living room, stepping over the debris.
“All neutralized, Boss,” Marcus reported, checking his tablet.
“Morena is getting desperate. This is the third hit this month.”
“Morena is signing his own death warrant,” Daniel said, his voice dropping into a terrifying, icy register.
“Clean up this mess, Marcus.”
“And get the cleaners in here before dawn.”
“What about her?” Marcus pointed toward me.
“She stays here,” Daniel said instantly, leaving no room for argument.
“She is not going back to that apartment on Dupont Street.”
“Daniel, my bookstore—,” I started.
“Your bookstore is closed until further notice,” Daniel interrupted, taking my hand.
“You are staying in this penthouse under armed guard.”
“You can't place me under house arrest!” I protested.
“I am keeping you alive,” Daniel corrected me gently, his thumb brushing across my knuckles.
“You’re a target now, Emily.”
“Because of you,” I whispered.
May you like
“Because of us,” he corrected, looking deep into my eyes.
“There’s no going back to normal now.”
