Chapter 78 Shoot Me Instead
Chapter 78 Shoot Me Instead
Cole’s POV
She took another step toward me.
Then another.
Until she stood directly between my gun and the man kneeling on the floor, staring straight down the black void of the barrel. My pulse slammed against my ribs, a sudden, violent spike of pure panic overtaking the rage.
"Move, Celene."
"No." The answer came without a single shred of hesitation.
"You don't understand," I growled, my hand tightening on the grip.
"I understand enough." She held my gaze, refusing to look away, her dark eyes flashing with a fierce, unyielding confidence. "He didn't poison me, Cole. He left an opportunity, yes, but you already killed the man who took it."
"He is just as much at fault," I snapped, the heat rising in my chest. "He failed. In my world, that makes him just as responsible."
Celene took a half-step closer, her chest practically brushing the nose of the pistol. "Then pull the trigger on me too."
I froze. The entire room seemed to lose its air. "What the fuck did you say?"
"You heard me," she said, her voice hardening... "If you’re executing everyone involved in the poisoning, you might as well execute me. Because I’m the one who actually ate the fucking food. Line us both up, and kill us."
"Celene, stop talking. Move."
"No," she challenged, tilting her chin up, matching my stubbornness note for note. "Whether I knew it was poisoned or not doesn't matter under your twisted logic, does it? Because this cook didn't know either, and he's still about to die. So if his ignorance is a death sentence, Cole, then so is mine. Shoot the person who put the fork in her mouth, because without me doing that, your precious perimeter wouldn't even matter."
"Celene...Shut. Up!" I hissed, my jaw aching from how hard I was clenching it. The raw, terrifying prospect of her even uttering those words made my blood run cold.
"I won’t shut up!" she pressed, her voice rising, completely unfazed by the rage on my face.
"Kill me too, Cole. Shoot me right along with him. Because by your rules, my hands are just as dirty for swallowing the toxin as his are for leaving the kitchen door unlocked."
"Never say such rubbish ever again!" I roared, my voice exploding through the vaulted room like a thunderclap. The sudden, violent volume of it made the cook flinch violently on the floor, and even Jeffery shifted behind her.
I glared down at her, my chest heaving, my hand trembling with a terrifying restraint. "Do you have any fucking idea what you are saying right now? You are standing right in front of a loaded gun! Do not test me with that garbage, Celene!"
"Then put the fucking gun down!" she shouted right back, raising her voice to match mine, scolding me with an authority that stunned the entire room into absolute, dead silence.
She took the final step, forcing the barrel to press directly against her sternum. She looked at me, her eyes blazing, refusing to let me hide behind the monster. "Shoot me, or put your fucking gun down, Cole Buenaventura Ryder!"
The full name hung in the heavy air like a strike of lightning. No one in this city, no one in my bloodline, would ever dare utter those names together in that tone.
Every word she uttered chipped away at the wall I'd spent years building. Fucking hell... there were no walls left anymore... she was currently making sure of that.
I was stubborn, furious that she was defying me so openly in front of my men, but looking into her eyes...I could be a ruthless killer to the rest of the world, but for her, and only her, the beast had no fucking teeth.
"You think my rage isn't valid?" I asked quietly, my voice rough and laced with the lingering tension.
"I think you're hurting," she answered, her voice dropping to match mine too...
"I have every fucking right to be, Celene... I almost lost you."
"Yes. You do." She took another careful step, completely flush against my chest now, until I could feel the warmth radiating from her. "But you're aiming at the wrong person."
Silence settled over the room. The cook was crying quietly now. Jeffery hadn't moved. Neither of them existed to me. There was only her.
"You protected me," she whispered. "You stayed. You made sure I lived. You don’t get to undo that by becoming this again....at least not tonight"
Slowly, she reached for the gun. Every instinct inside me screamed to pull it away, to maintain my control. Instead... I let her.
Her warm fingers wrapped gently around the cold, black steel of the barrel. Without force, without fear, she guided it to face toward the floor.
"You don't need this."
My arm resisted for a heartbeat, my stubbornness fighting one last losing battle against her gravity. Then the tension gave way. A long, ragged breath left my lungs as the pistol dropped harmlessly to my side. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Jeffery finally exhale.
"Get out," I told the cook. My voice was low and cold, but the lethal intent was gone.
The cook looked up in disbelief, tears streaming down his face. I met his terrified stare.
"...Before I change my mind."
He didn't wait for a second invitation. He scrambled to his feet, muttering broken words of gratitude before practically running from the office. The guards followed him out, and Jeffery lingered only long enough to close the heavy door behind them.
Then it was just the two of us. The silence felt different now. Quieter. Less violent.
I slid the pistol onto my desk, the heavy metal clinking against the wood, before turning back to her.
"You shouldn't walk into rooms like that," I muttered. My hand found her waist on instinct, pulling her closer, needing to feel the physical proof that she was still here.
She looked up at me, completely unimpressed by my lingering scowl.
"You shouldn't create rooms like that then...You know I'll walk into any room you're in."
Despite everything... the corner of my mouth twitched. Almost a smile. I pulled her against me until her small body rested flush against mine, burying the last of the terrifying adrenaline under her scent.
"You defy me too easily, Kitten."
"No." Her hands settled flat against my chest, right over the frantic rhythm of my heart. "I balance you."
The words settled somewhere deep inside me. Balance.
I searched her face, studying the stubborn set of her jaw.
There was no manipulation here. No attempt to soften me into someone I wasn't meant to be. She knew exactly who I was, what I had done, and what I would do to keep her safe. She simply refused to let the worst parts of me make every decision. She was protecting me from myself.
I lowered my forehead against hers and closed my eyes, letting the quiet of the office swallow us. For the first time since she'd collapsed in my dining room, I could breathe without feeling like my lungs were full of broken glass.
"You make it very difficult to stay ruthless."
A small smile touched her lips, her thumbs brushing against the fabric of my shirt. "Good."
I let out a quiet laugh, barely more than a breath, the tight knot in my chest finally unravelling completely.
Then I wrapped both arms around her and held her against me, burying my face in her thick hair.
She was warm. Alive. Safe. That was enough.
The anger was still there. It would always be there, waiting just beneath the surface for anyone who dared threaten my sanctuary. But for the first time since the poison had touched her lips... I felt peace.