Chapter 162 I'm not leaving her
Author's POV (For Omniscient Reading)
The chandeliers in the grand ballroom glittered violently, their fractured light scattering across marble floors.
Hermes blinked, slow and disoriented, as if waking inside a nightmare.
Why was he here? The last thing he remembered was…
Was— His breath hitched. Nothing. It was suddenly just a blank wall.
His hands slipped away from Natalya’s arms as panic overtook him. He staggered back, clutching his head with both hands, eyes squeezing shut as if that would force memory back into place.
Across the room, Dominic watched with a curling smirk. Perfect. Exactly how he planned it.
He didn’t need the theatrics anymore. Even if the game was already lost. Hermes was disoriented, and now he'll take everything down with him.
"Hitler. Alex." Dominic’s voice sliced through the room. He pointed lazily toward the trembling Ted. "Get rid of that one."
Then his finger shifted, landing on the girl kneeling on the floor.
"And adorn her with our little surprise."
Hitler stepped forward without hesitation. He yanked off the blindfold around June’s head, tossing it aside before pulling the heavy bomb vest from a case. He strapped it around her torso with clinical efficiency.
June blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the bright hall. Her head throbbed.
She couldn’t remember how many times she’d been knocked out… or how she’d ended up here.
But this— This was the gala venue.
Why… why was she here?
Her confusion shattered when she turned and saw Hermes, looking unsteady, and lost.
Acting like he didn’t even know where he was.
Her mouth opened instinctively to call him—
But Hitler grabbed her by the jaw, forcing her still. His smile was a rotten, ugly thing.
"You’re going to die today," he whispered, tightening the last strap.
June’s heartbeat rioted.
She looked down— at the vest and t-the wires,
at the explosives hugging her ribs—
No.
No, no, no—
Her breath broke.
"HERMES!!!" she screamed, voice tearing through the ballroom.
Immediately Hermes snapped out of his memory-lapse as if someone had ripped him out of drowning water. His breath punched out of him—shallow, ragged, terrified. And then his eyes landed on her.
June. In a bomb vest.
His pulse hammered so violently that the veins in his forearms stretched against his skin.
"Leave her alone, Dominic!" Hermes roared, voice shaking the air as he surged forward.
Dominic’s smile twisted into something feral. He raised his gun without hesitation.
"One more step, boy, and you won't watch her blow into pieces."
But Hermes didn’t stop, because his logic evaporated. Fear vanished instantly.
Nothing existed except saving her.
He took a step—
—and a blur of movement cut across his vision.
"PAW!"
A gunshot split the ballroom, sharp and merciless.
Hermes’ eyes slammed shut at the sound. His breath fractured in his throat.
Then Dominic’s panicked snarl echoed, raw and furious.
"No! Fuck! NO!"
Hermes’ eyes flew open, immediately searched for June.
She was still alive—her mouth covered by a guard’s hand, tears streaking down her cheeks but alive.
Relief hit him like a collapsing building—until he saw the body on the floor.
Natalya's.
Her hands still half-raised, as if she’d been reaching for him. Blood spreading beneath her like a blooming, terrible flower.
No.
His body moved before thought could form. He dropped to his knees, pulling her into his arms.
Natalya managed a trembling smile—tiny, broken, but real.
Even now, she looked at him like he was everything.
At least, she thought to herself, he cared for her enough to cradle her right in this moment. If all it took to have the type of reaction from him – was to die for him. She would do it all over again.
A few minutes ago she’d learned her entire life was built on lies.
She was adopted, used, as a pawn raised to destroy the very family she wanted to be in.
Her twisted sickening type of love let her into this.
And she didn’t even get the chance to find who she really was.
"I’m… I’m so sorry, Hermes," she gasped, coughing blood.
"Don’t talk. Don’t—Nat, don’t." He ripped off his coat, pressing it hard against her wound, desperate. His eyes flicked around the room—Ted was gone.
"You made me do this!" Dominic barked somewhere in front of him, but Hermes couldn’t hear anything except Natalya’s weakening breaths.
"This is all my fault," she whispered, shaking. "I deserved it…"
"Shut the fuck up, Nat. You’re losing too much blood. Stay with me." Hermes’ voice cracked sharply as he pushed harder on the wound.
Her hand lifted, trembling, finding his. She squeezed faintly.
"In my next life… I’ll love you better…" She coughed, vision fading. "B-But if you don’t love me… I-I’ll acc-ept… i–" slowly her fingers slipped away, her eyes went blank as her chest stilled.
"No. No, Natalya. No." Hermes’ voice broke into shards. "You killed her, you bastard—you killed your own daughter!"
He rose slowly, trembling with something feral.
Dominic shook his head, sneering. "No. You did. You made her love you enough to die for you."
Suddenly, a deafening blast erupted near the stage.
The Elite SWAT team stormed the ballroom.
Windows shattered inward, glass raining across the marble floor.
Smoke cannisters rolled in, releasing thick plumes. Flash-bangs detonated, shaking the chandeliers.
Dominic’s men scrambled in chaos.
Hitler shoved June away, abandoning her as he sprinted toward an exit.
June stumbled, free for the first time since waking up. Her chest heaved as she scanned the smoke-filled room—everywhere was dark, loud, chaotic. She couldn’t see Hermes. She couldn’t see Ted.
Natalya was dead. Shot by her own father.
What kind of hell had she walked into?
Where was Hermes?
Where was anyone?
Her knees threatened to give out—when suddenly, arms seized her from behind.
Her breath caught. Her eyes squeezed shut in terror.
But then she inhaled—
Sweat, smoke, and expensive cologne. It was familiar.
"Hermes…" Her voice broke into a sob.
Hermes wrapped around her instantly, covering her body with his.
"I’m so sorry, June. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I’m sorry for—"
"Stop." June turned in his arms and cupped his face, desperate and trembling.
"Don’t apologize. Not right now."
She didn’t want guilt. She wanted him. She Wanted to get out from her. She wanted to live.
"The authorities are here," Hermes whispered, voice shaking. "We—we’re safe—"
But then a roar cut through the smoke.
"I’LL END YOU ALL!"
The lights snapped back on.
Dominic stood in the center of the chaos, backing toward the doors, a detonator in his hand. His fingers trembled over the trigger, eyes wild, refusing arrest.
The entire room froze.
Every armed officer’s aim shifted.
Every gaze locked onto one place.
To June, still strapped with a live bomb.
June’s throat closed, as air vanished from her lungs.
This was it. This was real.
She was going to die.
No. She can't die. She has a life living inside her.
Hermes’ hands flew to the vest, desperate to tear it free—
"DON’T TOUCH IT!" the SWAT leader shouted. "It might be pressure-sensitive!"
Hermes froze. His hands hovered uselessly in midair. Sweat dripped from his hairline, running down his temples.
Slowly, he brought his shaking hands to June’s face.
Her lips trembled. Tears rolled silently.
He didn’t know how to comfort her or how to promise safety, because he didn’t know if they would survive the next second.
But one truth slammed through him with absolute certainty:
He would not watch her die. If she went, he was going with her.
They were in this—together.
Just then Dominic’s thumb slammed down on the button—
Out of smoke, Lucien moved. With a burst of strength no one thought he still had, the old man lunged across the ballroom and tackled Dominic from the side.
A bone-deep snarl ripped from him as they crashed to the floor.
This was his redemption.
The father who "couldn’t protect his son" refused to fail again.
The detonator flew from Dominic’s hand, spinning through the smoky air—
—and clattered across the marble floor.
For one suspended heartbeat, everyone watched it skid.
Then:
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
SWAT snipers took the shot.
Dominic’s body jerked, then collapsed in a heap beside Lucien.
"TARGET DOWN!"
Chaos erupted.
"GET THE DEVICE!"
"MOVE, MOVE—!"
Officers surged in, grabbing Hermes, trying to peel him off June so the bomb squad could reach her.
"Sir, step back—!"
"Sir, let us handle it—!"
But Hermes’ arms only tightened around June’s body, pulling her against him as if someone might try to rip her away.
His entire body shook—rage, terror, adrenaline tearing through him.
"No—no, NO!" he snapped, voice cracking raw. "I am not leaving her!"
"Sir—the pressure might trigger—" the bomb technician shouted, panicked.
"The detonator was fake!" another SWAT member yelled. "It wasn't wired directly to the vest—!"
Hermes bared his teeth, every muscle in his body wound like a trap ready to spring.
"I AM NOT LEAVING HER."
He held June’s face in one hand and the vest in the other, trembling.
"Disarm it. NOW."
The room fell into breathless action around them. Flashes of red and blue. Orders barked.
Tools clattering.
All while Hermes refused to move even an inch away from her.
He would die before he let her face this alone.