The first thing the bleeding man did after stumbling into my arms was beg me to keep the cops away.

I woke up wrapped in Julian’s arms, the morning sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a fleeting, blissful moment, everything was perfect.

Then the proximity alarm shattered the silence.

The blaring red lights flooded the bedroom. Julian was out of bed in a millisecond, throwing on tactical pants and a black t-shirt, tossing me a pair of sweatpants and one of his hoodies.

“What is it?” I asked, panic rising.

Marco’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Boss! It’s the Bratva. They’ve brought everyone. Fifty men, heavy artillery. They’re breaching the front gates. Lorenzo was their golden goose; they want payback.”

Julian’s face turned into a mask of pure, lethal calm. He walked to the walk-in closet, pressed a hidden button, and a wall panel slid back to reveal a massive armory. He strapped on a tactical vest and handed me a small Glock.

“Do you know how to use this?” he asked.

“Point and pull the trigger,” I said, my hands shaking as I took the cold metal.

“Clara, listen to me.” He grabbed my shoulders, looking deep into my eyes. “There is a panic room beneath the library. It is reinforced with titanium. You take this, you lock yourself inside, and you do not open it for anyone but me.”

“I am not leaving you!” I screamed, tears welling in my eyes. “I’m not hiding in a box while you fight an army!”

“You have to!” Julian roared, the fear in his voice cracking his stoic facade. “If I lose you, Clara, I have nothing left to fight for! You are my heart. Go. Now!”

An explosion rocked the estate, shattering the reinforced glass of the bedroom window. Julian shoved me toward the hallway. “Go!”

I ran. I sprinted down the grand staircase as gunfire erupted outside the front doors. Men were shouting, glass was shattering, the smell of gunpowder filled the air. I reached the library, pulled back the rug, and typed the code Julian had given me on a hidden keypad. The floor hissed, revealing a steel hatch.

I climbed down into the panic room and locked the heavy vault door. Inside, there were monitors displaying the security cameras of the estate.

I sat in front of the screens, clutching the gun to my chest, crying as I watched Julian and Marco turn the foyer into a warzone. Julian was a force of nature. He moved with lethal precision, taking down men twice his size. But there were too many of them.

On the camera, I saw a Bratva sniper on the balcony line up a shot directly at Julian’s back while Julian was suppressing fire at the front door.

Julian didn't see him.

I couldn't stay in the box.

I threw the vault door open, sprinting up the stairs into the library. The sniper was stepping through the shattered window.

I raised the Glock. My hands were shaking. I remembered Julian’s voice. Point and pull the trigger.

I fired.

The recoil bruised my wrist, but the bullet caught the sniper in the shoulder. He screamed, dropping his rifle, spinning toward me. Julian whipped around at the sound of the gunshot. Seeing the sniper aiming his sidearm at me, Julian let out a roar of pure rage and unloaded his clip into the man, dropping him instantly.

The sirens began to wail in the distance. The Seattle police were finally arriving. The remaining Bratva thugs scattered like roaches.

Julian sprinted across the library, dropping his weapon, and crashed into me, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms around my waist.