flash
The glass paperweight had missed Luke’s head by an inch, shattering against the mahogany bookshelf and raining razor-sharp crystal shards across the Persian rug. I sat in my custom, leather-upholstered titanium wheelchair, chest heaving, the phantom pain in my shins flaring like a blowtorch. / Chapter 5 / 20

Chapter 5 - Unmasked

The intruder groaned, clutching his shattered kneecap against the Persian rug. Emma dropped the brass poker with a metallic clatter, her knees suddenly giving out. She slid down the doorframe, gasping for air, her hands trembling violently.

I wheeled my chair forward, stopping right beside her. I reached down, grabbed her trembling hand, and pulled her up into a standing position, steadying her against the armrest of my wheelchair.

"You're out of your damn mind," I breathed, staring down at her with a mix of fury and fierce admiration. "What if he had turned around and shot you?"

"He was looking at you," she whispered, her voice cracking as tears finally spilled over her lashes. "Nobody was looking out for you."

Before I could answer, the side doors burst open. Luke rushed in, blood smeared across his cheek, followed by three heavily armed members of our inner security team. They took in the scene instantly—the restrained assassin on the floor, the broken glass, and Emma leaning against my knee.

"Boss, perimeter breached by a splinter cell from the West Side," Luke panted, checking his sidearm. "We cleared the grounds, but—"

"Clean this trash up," I interrupted, my voice dropping back into its absolute, unyielding authority. "Take him to the basement holding cell. I want to know who let them through the secondary sensor grid by morning."

"Yes, Boss," Luke said, his eyes lingering on Emma with a completely new expression of profound respect.

Emma pulled back, wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweater, suddenly looking embarrassed. "I... I should go check the guest room. Or clean up the poker."

"Forget the cleaning, Emma," I said, reaching out to catch her wrist. Her skin was warm, vibrant, and entirely real. "Stay here. We need to talk about who's really running this city."

She looked down at my hand on her wrist, then up into my eyes. For the first time, a small, genuine smile broke through the exhaustion on her face.

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"You're going to pay me overtime for this, right, Mr. Vance?"

"Double," I replied.

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