Chapter 39 

I looked at Dominic, whose face was hard as he dialed into his phone. 

I was shaking so hard. 

My hands trembled, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The scent of gunpowder, blood, and panic filled the air, pressing in on me from all sides. People were screaming, running, bodies crumpling to the ground. 

I had never been this close to death. 

Never felt its breath so hot against my skin. 

Dominic’s hand snapped onto my wrist, jerking me out of my daze. His eyes were sharp, focused. “Take this.” 

I barely registered the weight of the gun he pressed into my palm. 

A gun. 

I had never held one before. 

“Be careful,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Only shoot if you have to.” 

I swallowed, nodding despite the fear clawing at my throat. 

A shot rang out. 

I flinched. 

Dominic cursed under his breath, stepping forward, gun raised. Then, he turned back to me. “Stay low. Hide. 

He didn’t wait for a response. 

He moved–swift, lethal, a predator in his element. 

My stomach knotted. 

Another shot. 

Then another. 

I stumbled back, pressing myself against the pillar, gripping the gun so tight my knuckles turned white. 

A woman was beside me, whispering prayers, her voice shaking. 

I raised my hand up, wanting to comfort her. 

I wished I didn’t. 

‘BAM. 

. A headshot. 

Blood splattered across my face. 

Her body slumped against mine, lifeless. 

A bullet meant for me. 

My chest heaved, panic clawing at my throat, bile rising. 

The shooter turned their gun toward me- 

I reacted. 

I squeezed the trigger. 

A deafening bang exploded in my ears. 

The kickback was brutal, sending me stumbling backward. 

I hit the ground, my back slamming against the pavement, my head spinning. 

But the man in front of me- 

He dropped. 

I had shot him. 

I had killed him. 

My breath came in ragged gasps. 

Successfully unlocked! 

I didn’t have time to think, didn’t have time to process what I had just done. 

Because more were coming. 

I scrambled to my feet, gripping the gun tighter, my fingers slippery with sweat and blood. 

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I fired again. 

And again. 

Each shot sent a violent tremor through me, the recoil jarring, but I kept shooting. 

Because if I didn’t- 

I would die. 

Dominic was a few feet away, his stance solid, taking down men like it was second nature. 

Then- 

My eyes widened. 

Someone was behind him. 

Gun raised. 

Finger on the trigger. 

I didn’t think. 

I acted. 

I fired. 

The shot wasn’t good. 

But it landed. 

The man staggered, clutching his side, groaning in pain. 

Dominic whipped around. 

His gun flashed. 

A single shot–clean, precise. 

The man fell. 

Dead. 

Silence. 

Dominic’s gaze snapped to mine. 

For the first time since this started- 

He looked shocked. 

I stood there, shaking, chest heaving, the gun still raised. 

The weight of what I had done crashed over me, a tidal wave of terror and adrenaline. 

I had killed. 

I had saved him. 

Dominic exhaled slowly, lowering his gun. 

Then, his eyes locked onto mine. 

His expression was unreadable. 

I stood there, my chest heaving, body shaking, the gun still clutched tightly in my hands. 

Dominic took a step forward, his eyes never leaving mine. For a moment, I thought he was going to say something- anything–but instead, he simply nodded. 

One curt, sharp nod. 

And then he turned away. 

Chaos still surrounded us. People screamed. Men were on the ground, wounded or dead. The scent of gunpowder and blood was heavy in the air, clinging to my skin, suffocating me. 

“Take them,” Dominic commanded coldly, gesturing toward the few remaining attackers who had been captured. His ren moved swiftly, dragging them away. 

A firm hand gripped my arm, and I looked up to see one of Dominic’s men. “We need to get you back to the hotel.” 

I glanced at Dominic, waiting for him to follow. 

But he didn’t. 

He stayed behind, his back turned to me, talking to his men, already planning his next move. 

“Let’s go.” 

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I nodded numbly, allowing myself to be led away. 

***** 

The air in the suite felt heavy, suffocating. 

I stared at the strands of hair in my trembling hands, my chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. 

It was real. 

The last shred of denial I’d clung to was slipping away. 

I had stopped chemotherapy months ago. 

Not because I wanted to die. 

But because I was tired. 

Tired of hospitals. Tired of false hope. Tired of fighting a battle I knew I couldn’t win. 

I had taken the drugs, the pills meant to keep me going a little longer, and I had told myself that it was enough. 

But it wasn’t. 

Because no matter what I did- 

I was still dying. 

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing away the tears that burned behind them. 

A soft creak echoed from the main room. 

My eyes snapped open, my breath hitching. 

I turned sharply, staring through the bathroom doorway into the darkened suite. 

There was nothing there. 

But the feeling remained- 

That sense of being watched. 

I exhaled shakily, gripping the edge of the sink to ground myself. My reflection stared back at me, pale and haunted. 

A stranger. 

With shaking hands, I ran my fingers through my damp hair again- 

More strands came loose. 

More proof. 

A sharp knock on the door made me jump. 

I spun around, my heart pounding. 

The door opened slowly, and a tall, familiar figure stepped inside. 

Dominic. 

His sharp eyes swept over me, taking in my red–rimmed eyes, the way my fingers curled around the sink, the slight tremble in my shoulders. 

His expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his gaze. 

He saw me. 

And I hated it. 

I straightened, inhaling deeply, forcing my mask back into place. “Do you ever knock?” 

Dominic tilted his head, his gaze dipping to the strands of hair still clutched in my palm. 

My stomach twisted. 

I curled my fingers into a fist, stuffing the evidence behind me. 

He didn’t look away. 

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. 

Then, finally- 

“You should be resting,” he said simply. 

I scoffed, forcing a dry laugh. “Yeah, because sleep is going to fix everything.” 

Dominic didn’t smirk. Didn’t taunt me like he normally would. 

He just watched me. 

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Like he knew. 

Like he had always known. 

My pulse pounded against my ribs. “Why are you here?” 

He exhaled slowly, stepping further into the room. 

“There was an attack on my men after we left,” he said, his voice unreadable. “The ones we captured weren’t working alone.” 

I stiffened. 

“So it’s not over,” I murmured. 

Dominic’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It never is.” 

A chill ran down my spine. 

I knew this world was violent, but I had never been this deep in it. Never seen the consequences this closely. 

Dominic moved closer, his presence looming. “I need to know exactly what you saw before you were pulled out.” 

I swallowed, gripping the sink tighter. “A lot of gunfire. People dying. Blood everywhere.” 

His jaw ticked. “Anything else?” 

I hesitated. 

The man I shot. 

The one who had been behind Dominic. 

I had killed someone. 

More than one to be precise. 

And yet, I wasn’t falling apart. 

I was still standing. 

I met Dominic’s gaze. “I saw someone trying to kill you.” 

His expression remained unreadable. “And?” 

I inhaled deeply. “And I stopped them.” 

A slow silence stretched between us. 

Then- 

Dominic’s lips curved into something dark. 

“Gattina,” he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. “Are you telling me you saved my life?” 

⚫ I lifted my chin. “Would it kill you to say thank you?” 

His smirk widened slightly. “I don’t say thank you.” 

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “Of course you don’t.” 

He chuckled, stepping even closer, his heat seeping into my skin. 

“I don’t say thank you,” he repeated, tilting his head. “But I do repay debts.” 

A shiver crawled down my spine. 

Something about the way he said it–like he owed me something–made my stomach twist. 

I shook my head. “I don’t need a favor from you, Dominic.” 

He hummed. “You should be careful saying things like that. You never know when you might need me.” 

I arched a brow. “I thought I already needed you.” 

His smirk was slow, knowing. “You do.” 

I hated that he was right. 

I swallowed, suddenly exhausted. “I’m going to bed.” 

Dominic didn’t move. 

Didn’t let me pass. 

Instead, he reached out–so fast I didn’t have time to react–grabbing my wrist. 

I froze. 

He turned my hand over, his eyes dropping to my palm. 

I sucked in a breath. 

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Chapter 39 

The strands of hair. 

Dominic’s gaze flicked back to mine, something unreadable lurking beneath the surface. 

My throat tightened. 

For a second–just a second–I thought he might say something. 

But he didn’t. 

Instead, he released me. 

Then, in a voice too quiet, too calm- 

“Get some sleep, Gattina.” 

I stepped past him quickly, slipping into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me. 

My heart pounded. 

I climbed into bed, curling beneath the covers, trying to steady my breathing. 

But Dominic’s voice echoed in my head. 

And for the first time, I realized- 

I did need him. 

More than I wanted to admit. 

Because without him, at this moment, I am just a dewaman walking