Page 112 of Dirty Game

But I can't leave. Won't leave.

Because even with everything—Sienna being right about being second choice, knowing I'll never give him children, being broken beyond repair—Varrick ismymonster.

The one who feeds me when I forget to eat, bringing me soup at midnight, and watching until I finish it.

Who killed Tommy Fitzgerald before even meeting me properly, just because he'd heard the man hurt me.

Who destroyed a room full of toys he bought for a son he'd never met, then let me hold him while his body shook with rage and grief.

He won't hurt me the way my family has.

He'll destroy me in entirely new ways, but at least they'll be ways I choose.

Ways that come with gentle hands and fierce protection and a love that might kill us both.

Right now, he's the only person I can trust, and Sienna is trying to destroy that.

Trying to poison the one good thing in my life with doubt and fear.

I splash cold water on my face, change into real clothes—jeans, one of Varrick's hoodies that covers the bruising on my throat. I need to warn him about the trap, need to?—

The lights cut out.

For a moment, there's perfect darkness.

Then emergency power kicks in a second later, bathing everything in red like we're already covered in blood.

The security system starts beeping—a breach alert that sounds like screaming.

My phone rings.

Jensen.

Fuck, he’s alive!

Thank God.

"Miss, we have a problem. Multiple hostiles in the building. They took out the main power, the backup generators. They're?—"

A gunshot.

Then another.

Then silence.

The line goes dead.

I hear the elevator moving. Coming up.

But I didn't call it, and if Jensen is down, no one should be able to?—

I run to Varrick's office, to the hidden panel behind the destroyed monitors.

My fingers fumble with the latch, nails catching on the metal.

His emergency gun is still there—a Glock 19, loaded, safety off.

I've never fired a weapon before, but how hard can it be?