Chapter 65: Pull the trigger
Nico’s POV
We stayed there long after the attackers retreated, long after the last echo of gunfire faded into an uneasy silence and the guards resumed patrolling the estate as though nothing had happened.
Carmen stood beside me the entire time, quieter than I had ever seen her. That alone said enough.
We didn’t speak. We simply watched.
The screens flickered with empty corridors and dimly lit grounds, every movement outside monitored, every shadow scrutinized. Neither of us was in a hurry to leave. It wasn’t fear exactly—it was something sharper, something more calculated.
It was caution.
By the time midnight came, the estate had settled into an eerie stillness, yet I still felt no urgency to step out. If anything, the longer we stayed hidden, the more it felt like the only sensible choice.
"We can stay here for the night."
Her voice broke the silence, quiet but firm.
I didn’t look at her immediately, my gaze still fixed on the darkened screens as my phone continued to vibrate relentlessly in my hand—calls, messages, reports, all demanding my attention. I ignored them.
"Provided you’re the only one who knows the code," she added, her tone edged with practicality. There was no fear in her voice, only caution. She wasn’t worried about the attackers anymore—she was thinking ahead, already considering the possibility of being killed in her sleep.
Typical.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her lower herself to the ground, her movements slower now, exhaustion finally catching up to her. It was obvious she was drained, that all she wanted at that moment was rest.
I let a few seconds pass before finally stepping away from the screens, moving to sit beside her on the floor.
The room was exactly what it was meant to be—functional, secure, and nothing more. Reinforced walls, surveillance screens, minimal space. It wasn’t designed for comfort, only survival.
For a while, I said nothing.
I leaned back slightly, my gaze drifting to the blank wall opposite us, the dim golden light casting faint shadows across it. The silence settled again, heavier this time, more intimate.
"You should add some water and food here," Carmen spoke again, her voice softer now, almost distant. "The last thing you want is to die from starvation."
A small smile tugged at my lips.
"What makes you think I’m not here simply to protect you?" I asked, finally turning my head to look at her.
She met my gaze instantly.
Even exhausted, even worn down, there was still that fire in her blue eyes—that sharp, unyielding strength that had always drawn me to her.
"Maybe all this is a farce," I continued lightly, the faintest trace of amusement in my tone, "just to get us stuck in a room together."
She stared at me for a moment before shaking her head, leaning back fully against the wall with a quiet exhale.
"You can still joke at a time like this?" she asked, disbelief slipping into her voice.
I watched her close her eyes, her frustration evident even in that small gesture.
After that, the silence returned.
This time, neither of us broke it.
We sat side by side, the space between us charged with something unspoken. I could feel it, even without looking at her. The tension, the awareness.
Did I want to reach for her? Yes, but I didn’t move. Because my mind was elsewhere.
The attacks were becoming more frequent. More deliberate. Letting them continue without retaliation would only invite more. It would be seen as weakness.
And weakness was not something I could afford.
Still... rushing into a counterattack without understanding the full picture would be just as dangerous.
Carelessness got people killed.
The thought lingered, heavy and persistent, until I felt her shift beside me.
Slowly, she leaned in, her head coming to rest against my shoulder, her legs stretched out beside mine, just barely brushing against me.
The contact was... unexpected.
But I didn’t pull away.
"We could have captured some of them," she murmured quietly, her voice softer now, almost lost in the stillness. "Tortured them."
I nodded slightly, my gaze still fixed ahead.
"I already ordered Martin to try," I replied. "But they’re likely mercenaries. Hired hands."
Disposable.
Silence followed again, but this time it was different.
I took a slow breath, letting it out carefully before speaking again.
"You contacted Yellow Spider."
The words were calm. Measured. But the effect was immediate.
I felt it—the slight shift in her body, the near-imperceptible flinch against my shoulder. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t speak. But she didn’t need to.
That was enough.
I said nothing after that. I didn’t need to.
I simply waited, my hands tightening together in my lap, my jaw setting as the truth settled firmly into place. I wasn’t a good man.
I had never pretended to be.
And while I wanted Carmen—wanted her in a way that went beyond reason—that didn’t mean I was blind. Didn’t mean I was weak.
Because wanting her and trusting her were two very different things.
And right now—Trust was gone.
"I heard their offer."
Her voice broke through the silence, low, strained, edged with something dangerously close to fear.
"It was bad. I rejected it."
I didn’t respond immediately.
Instead, I let out a quiet breath, my gaze darkening slightly.
"But if the offer had been good," I said slowly, turning my head just enough to look at her, "you would have accepted it."
She didn’t answer. Didn’t deny it. She knew better than to lie.
"I was wrong..." she whispered, lifting her head from my shoulder, her eyes wide as they met mine, searching—uncertain.
She saw it then.
Whatever was in my expression made her flinch again.
"I... I—"
She couldn’t even finish.
"You don’t trust me," I said flatly, cutting through her words without hesitation. "Which means whatever deal we had... is over."
I leaned back slightly, my gaze steady, unyielding.
"You will no longer be allowed to leave the estate."
Her eyes widened instantly, horror flashing across her face as the meaning of my words sank in.
I didn’t stop.
"I bought you," I continued, my voice colder now, sharper. "You belong to me. Unless you can repay your billion-dollar debt, everything tied to your name belongs to me as well."
The anger that erupted in her eyes was immediate. Raw.
She pushed herself to her feet, her entire body tense, her gaze locked onto mine with a hatred so intense it almost felt alive.
But I didn’t care.
Those were the rules. She knew that.
"I might even put you to work in my escort houses," I added, the bitterness in my tone undeniable now. "With VIP clients."
Her expression darkened further.
"You don’t want me?" I continued, my voice dropping slightly. "Then you can have them instead."
Even as I spoke, something twisted in my chest, sharp and unpleasant—but I ignored it.
"A bit of drugs and—"
I didn’t finish.
Because in the next second, she moved.
Fast.
She lunged for the handgun on the ground, kicking the other one across the room before I could react. The motion was clean, precise—trained.
And then—
She pointed it at my head. The room went still.
Her hands trembled, not from weakness, but from the sheer force of her anger, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her finger hovered dangerously close to the trigger.
I could see it in her eyes. That fury.
That absolute, undeniable intent.
There was nothing in this world she wanted more in that moment—
Than to pull that trigger.
