Chapter 2: Blood on Silk
For three seconds, nobody answered him.
The question hung over the dining hall while the smell of gunpowder mixed with spilled champagne and cigar smoke.
“Who did this to her?””
Adrian Voss said it again.
Quieter.
That was somehow worse.
I tried to push myself up.
Pain tore across my back so sharply that my arms gave out.
The little boy beneath me made a frightened sound.
“Don’t move,” Adrian ordered.
I almost laughed.
“I’m fine.””
Blood was dripping from my fingertips.
That seemed to contradict me.
The boy clutched Rex against his chest.
“Miss Emily…”
“I’m okay.””
“You’re bleeding.””
“I noticed.””
His lower lip trembled.
Adrian crouched beside us.
The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
I had imagined meeting dangerous men before. Usually in nightmares.
None of those dreams had prepared me for Adrian Voss looking at me like he was trying to decide whether I was a stranger or a responsibility.
His hand hovered near my shoulder.
He didn’t touch me.
“Where are you hurt?””
“My back.””
“I know that.””
“Then why ask?””
His jaw tightened.
“You’re bleeding heavily.””
“I’ve had worse.””
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
His eyes narrowed.
“From what?””
I looked away.
“Life.””
One of the men from the booth stepped forward.
“Adrian, we need to get you and Noah out of here.””
Adrian didn’t look at him.
“Get the doors locked.””
“They’re already—”
“Lock them again.””
His tone made the man stop talking.
Adrian finally turned his head.
“Search every entrance. Nobody leaves.””
Then he looked back at me.
“And call Dr. Mercer.””
“I don’t need a doctor.””
“You do.””
“I really don’t.””
“You just took a bullet for my son.””
“I was closer.””
His expression shifted.
Not softer.
Just darker.
“That makes it worse.””
Before I could understand what he meant, he slipped one arm behind my back and the other beneath my knees.
Then he lifted me.
I gasped.
The pain was immediate.
His grip tightened.
“Easy.””
“I can walk.””
“No.””
“I have legs.””
“You also have blood running down your spine.””
“That’s incredibly rude of you to point out.””
For the first time, something almost human crossed his face.
Not a smile.
Something dangerously close.
Then he carried me through the wreckage.
People moved out of his way without being told.
The restaurant staff stared.
Customers stared.
Security guards stared.
I wanted to disappear.
Instead, I was in the arms of the one man in the building everyone else was afraid to look at.
As he carried me toward the private corridor, I caught Julian’s eye.
He looked pale.
Really pale.
His mouth moved.
“Emily…”
I stared at him.
He didn't follow.
No one did.
The private corridor swallowed us.
The noise of the dining hall faded behind a heavy door.
Adrian carried me down a narrow hallway covered with framed photographs of old politicians, famous actors, and people whose names I recognized from newspapers.
None of them looked as powerful as the man carrying me.
Noah followed closely.
“Daddy?””
Adrian stopped.
The little boy grabbed his sleeve.
“Is she going to die?””
Silence.
Adrian looked at his son.
“No.””
“How do you know?””
“Because I won’t let her.””
The answer came so quickly that I looked at him.
He didn’t notice.
Or pretended not to.
We entered a private elevator.
The doors closed.
For the first time since the shooting, it was quiet.
No gunfire.
No screaming.
No breaking glass.
Just the hum of the elevator and my uneven breathing.
I looked down.
My hands were covered in blood.
Not all of it was mine.
The thought made my stomach turn.
Adrian noticed.
“Stop looking.””
“At what?””
“Your hands.””
I swallowed.
“Is he okay?””
Adrian looked at Noah.
“He's fine.””
“No bruises?””
“No.””
“Did the glass hit him?””
“No.””
I exhaled.
“Good.””
Adrian looked at me strangely.
“You nearly died.””
“But he didn't.””
“That doesn’t answer my question.””
“I know.””
His eyes stayed on mine.
“You don't know me.””
“No.””
“You don't know what kind of man I am.””
“I've heard enough.””
“And you still stepped in front of a bullet.””
I shrugged, immediately regretted it, and hissed.
“I wasn't thinking.””
“That is obvious.””
I stared at him.
He stared back.
Noah broke the silence.
“She was thinking.””
Adrian looked down.
The boy hugged Rex.
“She thought I needed help.””
Something about the simplicity of it made my throat tighten.
The elevator opened.
Two men in dark suits were waiting.
One of them looked at me and then at Adrian.
“Doctor’s on his way.””
“Good.””
They moved aside.
We entered a private suite that looked less like a hospital and more like an expensive apartment.
Soft lights.
Dark wood.
A black leather sofa.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.
I had never seen an emergency room this expensive.
Adrian laid me carefully on a long sofa.
Then he stepped back.
“Doctor will examine you.””
I nodded.
Noah climbed onto the sofa beside me.
“Can I stay?””
Adrian looked at him.
“You should go downstairs.””
“No.””
“Noah.””
“I want to stay with her.””
Adrian stared at his son.
The boy stared back.
Neither moved.
Finally Adrian sighed.
“Fine.””
I smiled weakly.
“Stubborn.””
Noah grinned.
“Daddy says I'm exactly like him.””
Adrian gave me a look.
“I never said that.””
“You did.””
“I said you were persistent.””
“That means stubborn.””
I laughed.
It hurt.
I immediately stopped.
Adrian's expression changed.
“Does laughing hurt?””
“Yes.””
“Then don't.””
“That seems like a difficult lifestyle.””
Noah giggled.
Adrian looked at him.
Then at me.
For a fraction of a second, the room felt almost normal.
Then the doctor arrived.
Dr. Mercer looked to be in his sixties.
Gray hair.
Silver-framed glasses.
Hands that didn't shake.
He examined my back while two nurses carefully cut away the torn fabric of my uniform.
I bit down on my lip.
When the antiseptic touched the wound, a scream escaped anyway.
“Sorry,” the doctor said.
“You don't sound sorry.””
“I've been accused of that before.””
Adrian stood near the window.
Watching.
I could feel his presence even when I couldn't see him.
The doctor examined the wound again.
“The bullet grazed the upper right side of her back.””
I heard Adrian inhale.
“Is it still there?””
“No. It looks like it struck at an angle.””
“Then why is she bleeding this much?””
“Because bullets are generally inconsiderate.””
I almost smiled.
The doctor continued.
“There’s a deep laceration, some embedded glass, and significant bruising.””
“How long?””
“Several stitches.””
“Hospital?””
The doctor glanced at me.
“She should go.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
Adrian turned.
“What?””
“I can't.””
“Why?””
“Because I can't afford a hospital.””
Silence.
The doctor looked at Adrian.
Adrian looked at me.
I wished the floor would open.
It was humiliating.
I didn't want his pity.
I had spent years avoiding pity.
“I have insurance,” I added.
“Apparently not enough,” Adrian said.
“That's none of your business.””
His eyebrows lifted.
“No?””
“No.””
“You were shot inside my building.””
“I was shot protecting your son.””
“I know.””
“You don't owe me anything.””
He took a step closer.
“I decide what I owe.””
“I don't want it.””
“That wasn't an offer.””
I stared at him.
The doctor cleared his throat.
“I would strongly recommend she remain still.””
Adrian didn't break eye contact.
“Do it here.””
The doctor nodded.
“Of course.””
I looked at him.
“You can do that?””
He adjusted his glasses.
“In my profession, you learn not to be surprised by anything Adrian asks for.””
Adrian ignored him.
I looked around the room.
“So this happens often?””
“No.””
The answer came immediately.
I raised an eyebrow.
“To your knowledge?””
“No.””
Noah suddenly spoke.
“People try to hurt Daddy all the time.””
Adrian closed his eyes briefly.
“Noah.””
“What?””
“Please stop talking.””
“But she should know.””
I glanced at Adrian.
“Does he always say whatever he's thinking?””
“Yes.””
“I like him.””
“I don't.””
Noah giggled.
The doctor started preparing the stitches.
I focused on the ceiling.
One.
Two.
Three.
The needle pierced my skin.
I clenched my hands.
Adrian noticed.
“Give her something.””
“I can manage,” I said.
“You don't have to.””
“I don't take medication unless I need it.””
“You're bleeding on a silk sofa in a room full of armed men.””
“And?””
“And you're allowed to admit you need help.””
Something in his voice made me look at him.
There was no mockery there.
No judgment.
Just certainty.
I looked away.
“I've managed on my own for a long time.””
“Clearly.””
I frowned.
“What is that supposed to mean?””
“It means I can see the tape on your shoes.””
I froze.
Of all the things he could have noticed.
“You looked at my shoes?””
“I notice things.””
“That sounds dangerous.””
“It is.””
The doctor continued stitching.
Pain pulsed through my shoulder.
I thought about the electricity bill.
The empty refrigerator.
The final message from the landlord.
The way I had stared at my bank balance that morning and calculated whether I could afford eggs.
Then I remembered the tiny apartment waiting for me.
My life waiting for me.
Small.
Ordinary.
Safe, in the fragile way ordinary lives can sometimes be.
I wanted to go home.
Not to this place.
Not to the world of Adrian Voss.
Home.
The doctor finished the last stitch.
“That should hold.””
I exhaled.
He dressed the wound and gave me instructions.
“Stay still tonight. No lifting. No work for at least several days.””
I nearly laughed.
“I can't take several days off.””
“You can now.””
I looked at Adrian.
He was already reaching for his phone.
“What's your manager's number?””
“No.””
He stopped.
“No?””
“I can call him.””
“You're not calling anyone tonight.””
“I need my job.””
“You won't lose it.””
“You don't know that.””
“I know Julian.””
I stared.
“So do I.””
Adrian's expression hardened.
“What does that mean?””
“Nothing.””
“It didn't sound like nothing.””
I shifted.
Pain shot across my back.
Adrian immediately stepped forward.
“Don't move.””
“I’m trying not to.””
“You're terrible at it.””
“And you're terrible at being comforting.””
“I wasn't trying to be.””
The corner of his mouth moved.
I noticed.
So did Noah.
“Daddy almost smiled.””
Adrian looked at him.
“I did not.””
“You did.””
“I didn't.””
“He's right,” I said.
Adrian stared at me.
I smiled.
“You almost smiled.””
Something changed in his eyes.
Then the elevator doors opened.
A man walked into the room.
He was one of Adrian's security men, but unlike the others, he looked genuinely shaken.
“Boss.””
Adrian turned.
“What?””
“We found the shooter.””
Every muscle in the room tightened.
“Alive?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
“On the roof.””
Adrian's voice became cold.
“Bring him down.””
The man hesitated.
“He’s asking for you.””
Adrian's expression didn't change.
“Then he can wait.””
“He said something first.””
“What?””
The man looked at me.
Then at Noah.
Then back at Adrian.
“He said the bullet wasn't meant for the boy.””
Silence.
I felt cold.
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“Repeat that.””
The security man swallowed.
“He said the shooting was a warning.””
Adrian took one step closer.
“For whom?””
The man's gaze shifted toward me again.
“For the woman.””
My stomach dropped.
I stared at Adrian.
He stared at me.
The room suddenly felt much smaller.
“I don't understand,” I whispered.
Adrian didn't answer.
The security man did.
“He knew her name.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
Adrian's eyes remained fixed on me.
“How?””
The man looked uncomfortable.
“He said…”
He paused.
Adrian's voice sharpened.
“Say it.””
“He said, ‘Emily Carter was never supposed to be at Lumina tonight.’”
My blood ran cold.
Because I had never told Adrian my last name.
Not once.
Not ever.
And as every person in that room turned toward me, Adrian slowly reached for the gun beneath his jacket.
May you like
Then someone behind us locked the door.
From the outside.
