2025-12-07 04:28:30
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BULLET AND SMOKE
"Don't." Lily's voice broke on the single syllable. "Don't say that.""Why?" Ethan closed the distance between them to nothing, and his eyes held things that terrified her more than assassins or death threats or any physical danger. "Because it's easier to hate me? Because then you don't have to admit you feel it too? Because if you acknowledge that what's between us is real, you can't keep pretending I'm just another person who destroyed you for profit?"Lily's hand moved before conscious thought—palm connecting with his cheek in a slap that was half fury, half desperation.But Ethan caught her wrist mid-swing this time, fingers closing around hers with gentle firmness that somehow felt more intimate than violence."No." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Not again. I let you hit me once because I deserved it. But I won't let you hurt yourself trying to hurt me."He held her hand between them, and suddenly they were too close—close enough that Lily could feel his breath, could se
IN A BEAUTIFUL CAGE
The cage was beautiful, Lily had to give Ethan that much.Silk curtains. Imported furniture. A bed that probably cost more than her first car. Everything designed to make imprisonment feel like luxury, to make surrender taste like safety.She paced the length of the guest room for the hundredth time in twenty minutes, each circuit bringing her back to the same inescapable truth—the windows were bulletproof glass thick enough to stop artillery, the door was reinforced steel disguised as mahogany, and the only exit led directly to Agent Harrison stationed outside like a very well-armed babysitter."This is insane," Lily muttered to walls that probably had listening devices embedded in the paint.A knock interrupted her spiraling."Ms. Morgan?" Harrison's voice carried through the door with military precision. "Mr. Cross will be here in twenty minutes. I suggest you prepare yourself."Lily stopped pacing, hands clenching into fists against her chest."I don't want to see him.""With resp
MAKE HER SUFFER!!!
"Where—" Lily couldn't help but ask. Trust is a very costly thing these days."Secure location. That's all you need to know right now." Harrison's eyes met Lily's in the rearview mirror, and they were cold but not unkind. "The less you know, the safer you are. Someone wants you dead badly enough to hire Jackson Volkov—that means we assume every detail could be compromised.""Who's Jackson Volkov—""The man Vivian Cross paid to kill you. Professional assassin. Ten confirmed kills across Europe. Never been caught because he's smart, patient, and thorough." Harrison took a corner hard enough that Lily had to brace against the door. "He's also expensive, which means your ex-husband's ex-wife is either very determined or very insane. Possibly both."The city blurred past in streaks of light and shadow, familiar landmarks becoming alien when viewed through the lens of running for your life."Where are we going?" Lily tried again, needing something solid to hold onto when everything felt lik
YOU HAVE TWO CHOICES!
The phone hit the floor like a gunshot in the silence.Lily stared at it lying there on hardwood that suddenly felt too exposed, too vulnerable, like every surface in the penthouse had transformed into a stage where someone invisible was watching her panic and taking notes for the finale.Her hands shook. Her breath came in gasps that tasted like copper and fear. The distorted voice echoed in her head on repeat—forty-eight hours to live, say goodbye to everyone you love—until it became a soundtrack to her own impending death.She lunged for the phone, fingers fumbling across the screen to dial 911.Two rings. Three. Forever compressed into seconds that felt like drowning."Emergency services, what's your emergency?""Someone just threatened to kill me." The words tumbled out in a rush. "I got a call, a man, his voice was distorted—he said I have forty-eight hours to live—""Ma'am, I need you to calm down. Are you in immediate danger? Is the caller in your home?""No, he—the call just
FORTY-EIGHT HOURS TO LIVE
"Give or take. I prefer working around crowds—more confusion, more suspects, easier to disappear." His smile was professional and chilling. "She won't see it coming. They never do."He moved toward the door, paused with his hand on the handle."One more thing. If she's under protection by Friday night—if your ex-husband gets wind of this and moves her somewhere secure—the plan can change and the price can get a little bit higher. I'm nice, but I don't work for little. Understood?""Understood."The door closed behind him with barely a sound, and suddenly Vivian was alone with her mother and the weight of what she'd just purchased.Diane stared at her daughter like she was looking at a stranger."When did you become this?"But Vivian was already at the bar, pulling out champagne she'd been saving for celebration, popping the cork with hands that didn't shake despite having just ordered someone's death."When I realized that playing nice gets you cheated on. Being forgiving gets you div
THE ASSASSINATION CONTRACT
The man who knocked on Vivian's door at midnight wore darkness like a second skin.Not metaphorically. Literally. Black clothes that absorbed light instead of reflecting it, a face obscured by shadow and intention, movements economical in the way that came from years of making people disappear without leaving evidence behind.Vivian opened the door like she'd been expecting him—because she had been, ever since the phone call three hours ago that had cost her more money than most people earned in a decade."Mr. Black."Her voice was steady, businesslike, the tone she'd once used for board meetings before her board had been dissolved along with her company and her dignity and everything else Ethan had systematically destroyed."Ms. Cross."His voice was surprisingly cultured, British accent polished smooth by expensive schools that probably didn't know they'd educated someone who killed for profit. He stepped inside without invitation, closing the door with the kind of care that suggest
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