POV: Dominic
The gun changed everything.
Three months. That's how long I'd kept my distance from Sienna Cross. No texts. No calls. No secret drives past her apartment to make sure she was safe. James called it healthy boundaries. I called it survival.
Because one look at her and I'd forget every reason we couldn't work.
I threw myself into work instead. New deals. Hostile takeovers. Building my empire higher while trying to forget the girl who'd turned my world upside down in seven minutes.
But I thought about her constantly.
Every. Single. Day.
Saturday afternoon found me at Morrison's Rare Books in the Village. It was my escape—the one place in Manhattan where no one cared about money or power. Just ideas. Just quiet.
I was browsing philosophy when I heard her voice.
Excuse me, do you have any recommendations for economic game theory? I need something beyond the textbook.
My hand froze on the book I was holding.
I knew that voice. It haunted my dreams.
Slowly, I turned my head.
Sienna Cross stood three feet away, completely focused on the bookshelf. She looked different. Her designer labels were gone, replaced by jeans and a Columbia sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. Glasses perched on her nose. She looked younger. More real. More herself.
She hadn't seen me yet.
I should leave. Should walk away before this got complicated again.
Instead, I reached past her for a book on the top shelf.
Try this. Schelling's work on strategic conflict. More insightful than Nash, less complicated than Morgenstern.
Her head snapped up. Those green eyes went wide.
Mr. Sterling.
The formal address felt like a knife. Like these three months had erased everything between us.
Miss Cross. I kept my voice neutral even though my heart was pounding. Columbia?
She touched the sweatshirt, almost nervous. Full scholarship. Turns out scandal doesn't matter if your grades are perfect.
Pride hit me hard. I'd known she'd get in. Known she was brilliant.
Congratulations.
Thank you.
We stood there in awkward silence. She should walk away. I should let her.
Instead, I pulled the Schelling book from the shelf and handed it to her. Our fingers brushed. Electricity shot up my arm.
Chapter seven is particularly relevant for what you're studying. Schelling argues that conflict isn't about destroying your opponent—it's about changing their expectations.
Her eyes met mine. Is that what you do? Change people's expectations?
When necessary.
And what were your expectations three months ago? When you sent me away?
The question hung between us like smoke.
That you'd be better off without me, I said quietly. That you'd be safe.
From what?
From me. From my family. From a man who wanted you so badly he couldn't think straight.
Her breath caught. And now?
Now I'm wondering why I thought distance would make me want you less.
I shouldn't have said it. Shouldn't have been honest.
But then she smiled—small and sad and beautiful.
I have four hours until my next class. Want to grab coffee and argue about economics?
I shouldn't.
That's not what I asked.
She was right. And I was tired of doing what I should.
There's a café two blocks away. They have excellent espresso and terrible pastries.
Sounds perfect.
We talked for four hours.
Actually, we talked for four hours and seventeen minutes, but who was counting?
We started with game theory. Sienna challenged everything I said, backing up her arguments with examples that were brilliant. I'd forgotten how sharp she was. How she made me work to keep up.
The conversation shifted to business strategy, then to philosophy, then to her classes at Columbia. She told me about her professors, her terrible roommate, the research project she was leading. She talked fast when she was excited, hands moving, eyes bright.
I could have listened to her forever.
Your turn, she said suddenly. Tell me about the last three months. What hostile takeovers kept you busy?
How did you know about the hostile takeovers?
I read the financial news. You acquired three companies in September alone.
You've been following my business deals?
She looked down at her coffee cup. I've been following you. Online. I know it's probably pathetic, but I couldn't just... stop wondering if you were okay.
Something in my chest cracked open.
I drove past your apartment seventeen times, I admitted. Never stopped. Just needed to see your lights on and know you were safe.
Seventeen times?
Give or take.
She laughed. Actually laughed. God, I'd missed that sound.
We're ridiculous.
Completely.
So why are we still pretending we can stay away from each other?
The question I'd been avoiding for three months.
Because you're eighteen and starting college. You should be meeting people your own age. Going to parties. Living your life.
I tried that, she said. Went to three frat parties. Dated two guys from my economics class. Kissed one of them.
Jealousy burned through me. Hot and irrational.
And?
And I kept comparing them to you. They were nice. Age-appropriate. Exactly what I'm supposed to want. She met my eyes. But they weren't you.
Sienna
I know all the reasons this is wrong. I've spent three months listing them. The age gap. Your family. What people will say. But you know what I learned?
What?
That wrong doesn't mean impossible. And staying away from you doesn't make me want you less. It just makes me miserable.
My phone buzzed. I ignored it.
We can't just
Why not? I'm legal. I'm making my own choices. And I choose you.
My family will destroy you.
They already tried. I survived.
Tyler
Is in rehab. I checked. He's getting help. This isn't about him anymore.
My phone buzzed again. Insistent.
I glanced at the screen. Five missed calls from James. That wasn't normal.
I need to check this, I said apologetically.
Of course.
I stepped outside to call James back.
He answered on the first ring. Where are you?
Village. Morrison's Books. Why?
Get to your car. Now. And take Sienna with you.
My blood went cold. How did you know Sienna was here?
Because you've been photographed. Someone tipped off the paparazzi. Pictures of you two at the café just hit Twitter.
Damn it.
That's not all. Tyler escaped from rehab three hours ago. His therapist says he's been obsessing about revenge. About you and Sienna. And Dom
What?
He has a gun.
The world stopped.
Where is he?
We don't know. But someone posted your location online ten minutes ago. If Tyler's tracking you
I'm getting Sienna now.
I hung up and ran back inside.
Sienna was right where I left her, peacefully reading the Schelling book.
We need to leave. Right now.
She looked up, saw my face, and stood immediately. What's wrong?
Tyler escaped rehab. He has a gun. And someone just posted our location online.
All the color drained from her face. Oh God.
I grabbed her hand. My car's two blocks away. Stay close to me.
We were halfway to the door when it opened.
Tyler Sterling walked in.
He looked terrible. Thin. Wild-eyed. His hair uncombed, clothes wrinkled. But worst of all was the expression on his face, pure hatred mixed with something broken.
And his right hand was in his jacket pocket.
Well, well, Tyler said, voice shaking. Isn't this perfect? Uncle Dominic and his little whore, having a cute bookstore date.
Tyler, I kept my voice calm, putting myself between him and Sienna. You need help. Let me call someone
Help? Like you helped when you stole my girlfriend?
She was never yours to steal.
She was MINE! He shouted it. The other customers backed away. We were together for three years! THREE YEARS! And you took her in one night!
She made her own choice, Sienna said from behind me. Her voice was steady but I could feel her shaking. You destroyed our relationship yourself.
Tyler's laugh was broken. By kissing another girl during a game? That's nothing compared to what you did! You gave yourself to him! You ruined everything!
His hand came out of his pocket.
He was holding a gun.
Someone screamed.
Tyler, don't, I said quietly. You don't want to do this.
Yes, I do. Tears ran down his face. You took everything from me. My girlfriend. My family's respect. My entire life. And for what? To prove you're better than me?
I never wanted to hurt you.
LIAR! He raised the gun. It shook in his hand. You wanted to destroy me. You wanted to show everyone that the bastard son could take whatever he wanted from the legitimate heir. Well, guess what? I'm taking it back.
He aimed the gun at Sienna.
Everything slowed down.
I saw Tyler's finger move toward the trigger. Saw the madness in his eyes. Saw the moment he decided to pull it.
I moved without thinking.
Threw myself in front of Sienna just as the gun went off.
The sound was deafening.
Pain exploded in my shoulder. Hot and sharp and immediate.
I heard Sienna scream my name. Felt myself falling.
The last thing I saw before everything went black was Tyler's face—shocked and horrified, like he couldn't believe what he'd just done.
Then nothing.
I woke up to white ceiling tiles and the steady beep of a heart monitor.
Hospital.
I tried to sit up and pain screamed through my shoulder.
Don't move. Sienna's voice. She appeared beside me, eyes red from crying. The bullet went through your shoulder. You need surgery but you're going to be okay.
You're safe. It came out as a whisper.
Because of you. Her hand found mine. You took a bullet for me.
Worth it.
She laughed and cried at the same time. You're insane.
Probably.
The door opened. James walked in, followed by two police officers.
Mr. Sterling, I'm Detective Morrison. We need to ask you some questions about the shooting.
Tyler?
In custody. He's being charged with attempted murder. His lawyers are already arguing diminished capacity due to drug withdrawal.
Will he get help?
That's up to the courts. But he's not getting out anytime soon.
The detective asked questions. I answered on autopilot, watching Sienna the whole time.
After they left, I pulled her closer with my good arm.
I'm done staying away from you. Done pretending I can live without you.
Dominic
I know it's fast. I know it's complicated. I know people will judge. But I almost died today, and my only regret would have been wasting another day without you.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. Are you asking me out while you're in a hospital bed?
I'm asking you to take a chance on us. Publicly this time. No more hiding.
Your family
Can go to hell. I choose you. I'll always choose you.
She kissed me. Gently, careful of my injury, but with all the feeling we'd been holding back for three months.
When she pulled away, she whispered, Yes. To all of it. Yes.
Relief flooded through me. Good. Because I'm not letting you go again.
Promise?
Promise.
My phone buzzed on the side table. Sienna picked it up, then froze.
What is it?
She held it up so I could see.
A text from an unknown number.
With a photo attached.
The photo showed Sienna's Columbia dorm building. Taken from across the street. With a red circle drawn around her window.
The message read: Tyler wasn't the only one who wanted revenge. The real game is just beginning. You should've stayed away from her, Dominic. Now she pays the price. —Victoria
My blood turned to ice.
She's been watching you.
Sienna's hands started shaking. Your grandmother? But why would she—
Another text came through.
A photo of Sienna's mother leaving work.
Then one of her father at his school.
Then one of Maya at the coffee shop.
The final message: Everyone you love. Everyone she loves. All of them are now pieces on my board. Make your move carefully, Dominic. Because in this game, I always win. And unlike my pathetic grandson, I don't miss.
Sienna dropped the phone like it was burning her.
She's threatening my parents. My best friend. Everyone.
I tried to sit up despite the pain. James! Get in here!
But before James could enter, one more text appeared.
A live video feed.
Showing Sienna's mother, walking toward her car in the hospital parking garage.
The camera angle was from someone following her. Getting closer. Closer.
Then the screen went black.
And a single word appeared:
RUN.