Page 85 of The Cruel Heir

Everything slowed.

He lunged, and I turned, just in time to feel the air shift behind me. Sterling was there in a second, grabbing my waist, twisting us both out of reach.

The knife slashed through Sterling’s jacket. He grunted.

Blood bloomed.

Sterling didn’t flinch. He let me go and pounced.

Chadwick hit the floor with a sickening crunch. Sterling straddled him, fists flying.

One. Two. Three.

Screams erupted around us. Glass shattered. Guests scrambled.

Security moved in, but Sterling wasn’t done.

“Touch her again,” he growled, smashing Chadwick’s face into the marble. “I’ll bury you where no one will find the fucking body.”

Blood spilled across the floor. Chadwick was gasping, sputtering. His face unrecognizable.

That’s when I heard the pop.

Then another.

Gunshots.

From the mezzanine.

Panic exploded. People screamed, shoved, ducked behind art installations.

Sterling threw himself over me as more shots rang out. Time shattered. I watched the silver button on his cuff spin, watched the air bloom red, before the pain found him. A sound, half growl, half prayer, broke in his throat as his body caged mine. We hit the ground behind a podium, his body shielding mine.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. His lips brushed my ear as he said, “Hummingbird, if this is the only thing I ever do right-” A wet splat came from him, as he started to cough mid sentence.

Time stopped. In that heartbeat, I saw him at fifteen, snapping my violin bridge, at twenty-five, branding himself inside me, every moment arrowed toward this one, his body writing the line fate refused. He was bleeding. I felt it.

Not just from the knife.

“Fuck! Sterling!” I screamed as he slumped. More blood soaked his shirt.

He coughed and gasped, “Z-Zara, if this is it…” his eyes filled with pain. “I’m so sorry p-”

I pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t. Don’t say anything more. You’re going to be fine.” My eyes filled with tears, as I watched the love of my life struggle with his strength. Holy shit!

I loved Sterling.

I loved my husband, and I’d be damned if I lost him now. In a panic, I looked around, and my eyes landed on his right hand man.

Frankie appeared from the smoke, firing back.

“They’re aiming for you both. This wasn’t random,” he barked. “We’ve got to go. Now!”

Sterling pushed to his feet with a groan. I was amazed by his strength. I tried to help, but my knees gave out.

My stomach twisted.

A cramp.