I felt a lump in my throat as I climbed the stage, every step felt like I was tearing her heart into pieces. To her, I was the villain who had just crushed her soul on the most important night of her life.
But it was for her own good, how could I explain to her I was the man standing between her and a Schendlin bullet.
My hand tightened on her waist, not out of a desire to possess her, but because if I let go, she'd run and if she ran, my guards wouldn't be able to shield her from the sniper I knew was perched in the rafters of the gala hall.
"Call him, Bethany," I repeated.
I had spent twelve million to buy that award. Not because I wanted the god damn trophy, but because the Schendlin's ritual was simple: once the winner takes the stage, and gets the awards the winner takes the bullet. If her name had been called, she would be a corpse on that stage right nowI watched her reach for her phone with trembling fingers. My eyes scanned the perimeter over her head.
There were two men in black suits who were moving toward the exit, they were no other than the Schendlin cleaners. They knew the target had been swapped.
I didn't have time to be the man she loved. I had to be the monster she hated, or she wouldn't stay close enough for me to keep her alive.
I shielded her with my body and began leading her to the exit. My grip on her waist was tighter now, I couldn't bear loosing her or letting her get hurt.
"Keeping moving, Bethany." I ordered, my senses were alert. I slowly dipped my other hand into my suit gently bringing out my gun. She was still clueless.
"Let go! You're hurting me, you arrogant..."
I didn't let her finish, I pushed her to a corner, away from the men and fired shot at them. The blluet landed straight on their chest as they collapsed to the ground.
"Come on, get up keep moving."
She obeyed quickly, her eyes wide and staring at the gun on my hand.
I never wanted her to see the side of me.
Bethany
My world was spinning. One moment I was grieving a stolen award, and the next, the man I loathed was with a gun killing some men I didn't even recognize. Where did he get a gun? Before I could even scream, his hand was grabbed my arm again, dragging me toward the silver doors at the end of the hall.
"Move, Bethany. Unless you want to join them on the carpet," he snapped.
"You're a murderer!" I shrieked, stumbling over my heels as he shoved me into the elevator. "You're a psychopath! Is this your plan? Steal my award and then kidnap me at gunpoint? What is this, Xavier? A Tuesday?"
The doors click shut, locking us in the small, mirrored elevator. I scrambled to the far corner, away from him, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Kidnap you?" Xavier let out a harsh, dry laugh. He leaned against the brass railing, staring at me. "Believe me, sweetheart, if I wanted to spend my night with a screaming, ungrateful brat, I would have stayed at the gala and talked to your father."
"Don't you dare talk about my father!" I yelled, pointing a trembling finger at him. "You're the one holding a gun! You're the one who just... you just killed people!"
"I just saved your life," he countered. He took a step toward me, and I stepped back, clearly afraid... this man is a monster.
"Those men weren't here for the hors d'oeuvres, they were here for you. Because your dear old dad decided you were worth less than a winning hand at the poker table."
"You're lying! You're just trying to scare me so I'll go with you." I felt the elevator jolt as it bypassed the middle floors, racing for the roof. "I'm calling the police. I'm telling them Xavier Vane is a lunatic kidnapper who....."
"Go ahead," he interrupted, tilting his head. "Call them. Tell them you're in an elevator with a man who just paid twelve million dollars to keep your head from exploding on national television. I'm sure they'll find it fascinating."
"I hate you," I said. "I hate every single bone in your body."
Xavier didn't even flinch. He just adjusted the gun in his waistband and stared at the floor numbers climbing higher.
"Now," he said, grabbing my wrist again. "Try not to get shot on the way to the chopper. It would really make my twelve million feel like a waste of money."