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Sophia stands at the other end of the gun, blood splattered on her face and clothes. Tears run down her cheeks; her hands are shaking as she struggles to hold the gun. As she aims at me, she looks through me as if she doesn’t recognize me. My bodyguard wants to burst into the room, but I turn and shake my head.
I don’t need anyone in here while I try to take the gun from her. I don’t think she wants anyone else to see her so vulnerable either. Helping my wife won’t work with everyone standing around staring at the scene.
“Go outside and take care of the rest of the men. I can deal with this.” I focus on Sophia again, watching the way her finger curls around the trigger.
She doesn’t know what’s going on right now. She is not here. She’s a million miles away where a man is still after her.
“Get out of here now,” I say, my tone sharp as I glance backward.
The lead man nods and signals to the others to go back. They leave the hallway and walk through the house while I slowly move closer to her.
She stands there like a deer in the headlights when I see a man lying on the floor behind her. Blood oozes from a bullet wound in his leg and a knife is stuck in his upper arm, while ropes hold his hands and ankles bound. He’s unconscious, but I don’t know how long he’ll stay that way.
Did she do that? And how? It seems I underestimated her.
“Sophia, doll, it’s me. Why don’t you put the gun down?” I keep my tone low and soft as I tuck my gun into the holster at my side.
For a moment I don’t know if she recognizes me. Her gaze flits around the room in search of another threat. I hold my hands up with my palms facing her so she can see that I have nothing.
“It’s okay, doll. You’re safe now. I’m here. I’m going to take care of you. You just need to put the gun down, okay?”
Her hands tremble more as her eyes narrow. She blinks slowly before nodding, lowering her hands and staring at me as she finally drops the gun.
Tears stream down her cheeks as she falls to her knees and begins to cry hysterically. I sink to the floor in front of her and pull her into my arms.
She wraps her arms around my waist and presses her face against my shoulder while her body shakes with sobs. I hug her as tightly as I can, my heart aches for her and I try to control the raging anger inside me.
“Everything is going to be fine” I kiss her temple, knowing that she isn’t in the condition to talk right now.
I don’t know what exactly she had to do to survive, but it’s clear that the fear is still tearing her up on the inside. A wave of guilt washes over me and I wish I could erase what just happened.
“Everything will be fine,” I say, pick her up and take her upstairs. I hold her tightly to my body as we leave the intruder behind us. “No one is going to hurt you ever again.”
Even when I carry her into the shower and clean her up, she doesn’t come out of her trance. She just sits on the tiled floor and sobs while I run the sponge over her back and wash off the blood that has soaked her clothes.
By the time I've dressed her in my shirt and tucked her under the blankets, my blood is almost boiling over.
Whoever has tried to hurt my wife will not get away with it alive.
Chapter 17 - Sophia
I wake up drenched in sweat, my screams echoing in the room around me. I lean against the headboard and hug the blankets to my chest as I try to come to terms with my surroundings.
“Hey.” Ivan looks up at me, yawning as he stretches. “You okay?”
As I glance around the room, I keep expecting a man with a mask to jump out from behind the curtains or the dresser. I take a shuddering breath and use the heels of my hands to wipe away the tears.
“I had a terrible dream. You weren’t here and somebody broke into the house, and they tried to attack me.”
Ivan’s eyebrows knit together, and his mouth turns downward as he sits up and loops one arm around me, pulling me into his side. “It wasn’t a dream, doll. A man did get into the house last night.”
I clamp a hand over my mouth as the need to throw up overwhelms me. The run to the bathroom is short and quick. I drop to my knees in front of the toilet and gag.
My hair is pulled back from my face and Ivan’s large hand drifts up and down my back as I empty the contents of my stomach. When I’m done, he gets up and pours me a small cup of mouthwash.
By the time I’m a little more in control, everything that happened last night has come rushing back to me.
“Come,” Ivan says as he scoops me up from the ground. “We’ll get you back to bed and we can relax for a little bit before we talk about what happened last night.”
