Chapter 17 #2
Broken glass crunches under my feet as I move further in. The crystal vase she’d used to destroy my cameras lies shattered near an overturned end table. Books are torn and scattered across the floor.
My hands curl into fists as I survey the deliberate destruction. What the hell was she trying to accomplish? The fires are positioned to create smoke without spreading—meant to trigger alarms and create chaos rather than true destruction.
Unless…
Ice slides down my spine as darker possibilities surface. Was this a distraction or something more sinister? The thought of her trying to hurt herself, pushing boundaries to see how far I’d go to stop her, sends rage coursing through my veins.
“Eve!” My voice bounces off smoke-filled walls. “Where are you?”
The silence that answers twists something sharp in my chest. How far will she go to defy me? To prove she’d rather destroy herself than accept my protection?
The smoke thickens, carrying the bitter scent of burning fabric and shattered control.
The smoke burns my lungs as I push deeper into the penthouse. “Eve!” Another cough tears through my chest. “Damn it, answer me!”
Marcus’s voice crackles in my earpiece. “Sir, the fire department’s three minutes out. You need to evacuate now.”
“Not without her.” I scan the haze-filled space, fighting the rising panic. The smoke has thickened, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead.
“Sir…”
“I said no.” The words come out as a growl. Each second that passes without finding her feels like a knife twisting in my gut.
Movement catches my eye—a flash of pale skin through the smoke near the elevator. My heart stops.
Liv lies crumpled on the marble floor, one arm outstretched toward the elevator doors. She’s not moving.
“Eve!” I rush to her side, dropping to my knees beside her still form. My hands shake as I press my fingers to her throat, searching for a pulse. The steady thrum under my touch sends relief flooding through me.
“I found her.” My voice sounds foreign to my own ears, raw with something darker than fear. “She’s unconscious.”
Marcus says something else, but I barely hear him. All I can focus on is Eve’s face, peaceful in unconsciousness. The sight of her like this—vulnerable, completely at my mercy—awakens something possessive and primal in my chest.
I gather her into my arms, cradling her head against my shoulder. The urge to lock her away somewhere safe, somewhere she can never put herself in danger again, nearly overwhelms me.
Smoke stings my eyes as I carry her toward the exit. Each step feels like a victory and a revelation. She pushed me to this—forced my hand with her reckless determination to destroy herself. The thought sends equal parts terror and dark satisfaction through me.
“Status?” Marcus demands in my ear.
I tighten my grip on Eve’s limp form, shielding her face from the thickening smoke. “Getting her out. Have medical standing by.”
Her breath comes in shallow gasps against my neck as I navigate through the smoke-filled penthouse. Even unconscious, she fights against my protection. But this time, she doesn’t have a choice.
I cradle Liv against my chest as Marcus holds the service elevator doors. The descent feels endless, each floor ticking by too slowly while Liv remains unconscious in my arms. Her skin is cool, and her breathing is shallow.
“Sir, this is against protocol—” Marcus starts.
“I don’t give a damn about protocol.” My voice comes out raw from the smoke. “Status on the ground floor?”
“Emergency response is here. They’re evacuating the building.” Marcus’s phone chirps. “Chief Andrews wants a statement.”
“He can wait.”
The elevator doors open to chaos. Red and blue lights strobe through the lobby, casting harsh shadows across panicked faces. The acrid stench of smoke follows us out as evacuees crowd the exits.
“Over here!” An EMT waves us toward a waiting gurney. Every muscle in my body tenses as I lay Liv down, my hands lingering longer than necessary.
“What happened?” The EMT attaches monitors to Eve’s chest while her partner checks her vitals.
“Smoke inhalation. She was unconscious when I found her.”
“Sir, we need space to work.” The EMT tries to push me back, but I hold my ground.
“I’m not leaving her.”
“Remy.” Chief Andrews appears at my shoulder, his expression grim. “A word.”
“Not now.”
“Now.” He gestures to where the fire crew assembles near the entrance. “We need to discuss what triggered those alarms.”
My jaw clenches as I watch the EMTs work. Liv hasn’t stirred, her face pale against the stark white gurney. “Marcus, stay with her. If she wakes up—”
“I’ll alert you immediately.”
The fire chief leads me toward his team, but my attention remains fixed on the ambulance. Every second away from Liv feels like a physical ache.
“Multiple ignition points.” Andrews flips through his notes. “Deliberate placement to maximize smoke production while minimizing structural damage. Care to explain?”
“No.”
His eyebrows rise at my tone. “This wasn’t an accident, Remy.”
“Handle the smoke.” I turn back toward the ambulance. “Send the report to my office, and I’ll pay for the inconvenience and overtime.”
“We’ll need statements—”
“Later.”
Marcus intercepts me halfway back, his expression tense. “Sir, the EMTs want to transport her to Chicago General.”
Ice slides down my spine. “No. Call my doctor. Have him meet us at the west tower.”
“She needs a hospital—”
“She needs to be somewhere I can protect her.” My fists clench as I watch the EMTs prepare for transport. “Get Reynolds here. Now.”
Marcus nods, already dialing. Around us, the chaos continues—evacuees huddle in groups while firefighters sweep the building.
I finish answering the fire chief’s questions through gritted teeth, my patience wearing dangerously thin. When I turn back toward the ambulance, something’s wrong. The EMTs are packing their equipment, and there is no sign of Liv on the gurney.
My stride lengthens as acid burns through my veins. “Where is she?”
The younger EMT barely glances up, continuing to wrap cables. “Oh, the woman? She woke up about five minutes ago.”
“And?” The word comes out as a growl.
He shrugs, maddeningly casual. “Mumbled something about being fine and bolted. We can’t force treatment if a patient refuses—”
My fist slams into the ambulance door, the metal reverberating with a hollow boom. The EMT jumps back, finally showing appropriate concern.
Ice spreads through my chest as the realization hits. Liv played me perfectly—used the fire as a distraction, knowing I’d rush in to save her. The unconsciousness, the shallow breathing—all an act to get past my security.
“Fuck.” The curse tastes bitter. She’s outsmarted me again.
I force air through my lungs, stepping away from the chaos of flashing lights and concerned voices. My fingers dig into my palm until pain cuts through the rage. Think.
My phone is already in my hand as I stride toward the quiet corner of the parking garage. Each step steadies my racing thoughts, replacing fury with cold purpose. I don’t have any more options.
I dial the number I swore I’d never use. It rings twice before his gravelly voice answers.
“Montoni? It’s Harding. I’m in.”