Chapter 10
We caught Vanessa at the airport, ten minutes before her plane was supposed to take off.
She was standing at the gate, carrying two designer suitcases, wearing a fur coat and sunglasses, like she was going on vacation. When she saw me walking toward her, no wheelchair, no blanket, she froze.
“Going somewhere?” I asked.
She took off her sunglasses, her face pale. “You can walk.”
“For a while now,” I said. “Did you really think you could get away with it? Did you think I’d just let you steal my company, try to kill me, and run off to Monaco with my money?”
She laughed, but it was shaky, forced. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just going on a trip. Liam was supposed to meet me—”
“Liam is in my basement,” I said. “He told me everything. The accident, the embezzlement, the plan to kill me at the gala. Rico is testifying against you. The board members you bribed are flipping. You’re done, Vanessa. It’s over.”
Her face crumpled. For a second, I thought she’d cry, beg, apologize.
Then she pulled a small gun out of her purse, pointing it at Clara, who was standing behind me.
“Move,” she said, her voice shaking. “Or I’ll shoot her. I swear I will.”
Everyone around us froze. Travelers stopped, staring, some pulling out their phones to record.
“Vanessa,” I said, holding my hands up. “Put the gun down. You don’t want to do this. Murder is life in prison. You’ll never get out.”
“I don’t care!” she screamed. “You ruined everything! I was supposed to be rich! I was supposed to be powerful! And you and your little maid took it all away from me!”
She tightened her finger on the trigger.
I moved without thinking, stepping in front of Clara just as the gun went off.
The bullet hit me in the shoulder. Pain exploded through my body, hot and sharp, and I fell to my knees, clutching my arm. Blood seeped through my fingers, warm and sticky.
“Ethan!” Clara screamed, dropping to her knees beside me.
Vanessa stood there, the gun smoking in her hand, her face blank with shock. Two airport security guards tackled her to the ground, pulling the gun out of her hand, slapping handcuffs on her. She didn’t fight. She just stared at me, her eyes wide.
“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to.”
The world started to go dark around the edges. Clara was holding me, crying, pressing her coat against my shoulder to stop the bleeding. James was on the phone, calling an ambulance, shouting orders.
“Stay with me, Ethan,” Clara said, kissing my face over and over. “Please. Don’t leave me. I love you. I love you so much.”
May you like
I tried to answer, but my mouth wouldn’t work. The pain was too much, the darkness too strong.
The last thing I saw before I passed out was her face, tear-streaked and terrified, looking down at me like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.
