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“Liar.” Martin takes a threatening step forward—Philippe tenses, muscles coiling. “He has nothing to do with my career, and what goes on between us is none of your business.""You held a concert last night at the Met Philadelphia and didn't even think to include me? Her manager? What are you trying to do? Isolate her from everyone who is not a part of your world?"
"You," he prods Philippe again. "You just want a girl to sit in your house and look pretty. Her success makes you jealous. You want to control her, don't you? If she sings, it's to your tune. If she dances, it's to your step."
"It was nothing like that, Martin," I plead, trying to get him to see reason. "He encouraged me to sing. Isn't that what you wanted, too? For me to sing? Well, he succeeded in making that happen. You should thank him."
"Thank him?" Martin bursts into an ugly fit of laughter. "He has you hooked in his grip, Tatiana. He's controlling you."
"I love him," the words burst out without thought. Philippe turns to me, his eyes widening in surprise. Martin recoils as if slapped by my words.
"You... love him?" His voice wavers, a mix of disbelief and pain.
"Yes," I say firmly, my gaze never leaving Philippe's. "I love Philippe, and I won't apologize for it."
A heavy silence hangs in the air, broken only by the distant sounds of sirens echoing through the city streets. Martin's face contorts with anger, his fists trembling at his sides.
"You're making a mistake, Tatiana," he hisses through clenched teeth. "This man... he's dangerous. He's not who you think he is." With that remark Martin turns away and shuffles back into the crowd.
I want to go after him, but I just told Philippe I loved him. I turn to find him staring at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of shock, relief, and adoration. Philippe reaches out and pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly as if he never wants to let go.
"Tatiana," he whispers against my hair, "I had no idea you felt this way."
I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent. "I didn't either," I confess, my voice muffled. "But it's true. I love you, Philippe."
He pulls back slightly and cups my face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that have started to fall. "I love you too, Tatiana," he says softly. "More than anything."
Suddenly, the casino erupts into chaos without warning. Gunshots ring out, panicked screams following in their wake. Philippe shoves me behind him, shielding my body with his own as his men rush to surround us.
My heart leaps into my throat at the sight of some thugs pushing through the crowd, armed and shooting indiscriminately. They're after Philippe and willing to take out anyone in their way.
How the hell did they get in here?
Fear tackles me as Philippe returns fire, his shots unerringly hitting their targets with lethal precision. But for every man he takes out, two more emerge like an endless tide of danger.
I cringe into myself at the sounds of violence, hands over my ears in a futile attempt to block it all out. I want to run and hide, but I don't know where to go.
“Stay close,” Philippe growls, grabbing my arm to pull me behind a pillar as shots pepper the rocky walls.
My heart leaps to my throat, choking me with terror. We're trapped with no way out, our fate resting on Philippe's skill with a gun and the loyalty of his men.
"You need to defend yourself. I can't protect you alone." Philippe presses a gun into my hands, his eyes intense.
The cold metal feels foreign and frightening in my grip. I don't know the first thing about shooting a gun. But with our lives depending on it, I have no other choice.
I take a deep breath and nod. "Tell me what to do."
His hands cover mine, steadying my shaking grip. "Point and shoot. Don't hesitate." His gaze locks onto mine, willing me to understand. "You need to fight, Tatiana. Or we won't make it out of here alive."
His words spark a memory - you must focus on the game, win the game.
Defiance rises in me. Suddenly I'm done being the damsel in distress, waiting to be rescued. I won't cower behind him while he risks his life for my sake. It's time I fight back.
I set my jaw and stepped out from behind the pillar, gun raised. An attacker rushes me, and I fire without thinking, the recoil jolting through my arm. But I don't miss the target.
He drops with a cry of pain, clutching at his bleeding thigh. It's not a kill shot, but it's enough to take him out of the fight.
Triumph and horror war within me as I realize what I've done. I just shot someone.
But now is not the time to hesitate.
