Chapter 4 - One Kiss and Three Gunshots
Julian avoided me for the next two hours.
Which was impressive considering I was living in his house.
He disappeared into the security room with Marcus while I sat in the library pretending to read the same paragraph of a novel fourteen times.
I was still thinking about four words.
Trying not to lose you.
At 10:30, I found him on the rooftop terrace.
Rain had stopped. Manhattan glittered around us.
Julian stood with both hands on the stone railing.
“Are you avoiding me?” I asked.
“Yes.”
At least he was honest.
I walked beside him.
“Why?”
“Because I said something careless.”
“Was it untrue?”
His eyes closed briefly.
“Harper.”
“That is not an answer.”
He looked at me then.
The city reflected in his eyes.
“No,” he said. “It was not untrue.”
My heart started beating too hard.
“I have spent eight months trying not to want you,” he continued.
I almost laughed from sheer disbelief.
“That seems inefficient, considering I was apparently doing the same thing.”
“You are my employee.”
“You are my boss.”
“I am ten years older than you.”
“I can subtract.”
“My family is dangerous.”
“That one is more compelling.”
He turned away.
“You should not be anywhere near this.”
“I did not choose the criminal conspiracy.”
“No. But you can choose me.”
The words were so quiet I nearly missed them.
“And I am telling you not to.”
I looked at his profile.
“Do you always decide for everyone?”
“When the alternative could get them killed.”
“Maybe I would prefer the truth and a choice.”
He faced me.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“The truth is I have known exactly where you were in every room for months.”
I stopped breathing.
“The truth is I know you tap your pen against your thumb when you are about to disagree with someone senior. I know you remove the mushrooms from conference sandwiches and give them to Priya from accounting. I know you pretend not to care when people praise your work, then call your mother from the stairwell.”
My eyes burned unexpectedly.
Julian stepped closer.
“And the truth is when I heard you telling Maggie that you wondered what I looked like without a suit, I spent the entire night thinking about what would happen if I stopped pretending I had never wondered the same thing about you.”
Every coherent thought left my body.
“Julian.”
His gaze dropped to my mouth.
“That is why you should stay away from me.”
I stepped closer instead.
“Your strategy has weaknesses.”
Then I kissed him.
For one second, he did nothing.
Then one hand came to my waist.
The other touched my jaw.
And Julian Rourke kissed me like a man who had spent eight months building a wall and had finally decided to burn it down.
It was not careful.
It was not professional.
It was worth every humiliating second of the conversation Maggie would eventually force me to recount.
Then three gunshots shattered the glass door behind us.
Julian threw me down.
Stone exploded near the railing.
He covered my body with his.
“Stay down!”
Marcus shouted from inside.
More shots.
Julian dragged me behind a concrete planter.
I heard glass break.
Then silence.
A terrible, sharp silence.
Julian looked down.
Blood was spreading through his white shirt.
“Julian.”
“I’m fine.”
“You have been shot.”
“Grazed.”
“You are bleeding on me.”
“That is inconvenient.”
I almost slapped him.
Marcus and Theo secured the rooftop while Elena called the private doctor.
The bullet had cut across Julian’s upper side without entering his torso.
The doctor stitched him in the library.
I sat three feet away, furious and shaking.
Julian removed his shirt.
And suddenly, absurdly, my first conversation with Maggie came roaring back.
There he was.
Shirtless.
Broad shoulders.
Muscle.
Scars.
Far more scars than the one near his collarbone.
A knife mark across his ribs.
Two small circular scars near his abdomen.
A long line across his back.
My desire vanished beneath something heavier.
“What happened to you?”
Julian glanced toward the doctor.
“Occupational hazards.”
“You said you left.”
“I did. Leaving was not simple.”
Marcus stood by the fireplace.
“Salvatore had him beaten when he refused the merger.”
Julian’s expression hardened.
“Marcus.”
“She deserves context.”
I looked at Julian.
“You nearly died.”
“Yes.”
“And still built Northline.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell anyone?”
“Because I did not build a company to become a redemption story.”
The doctor finished bandaging him.
Then Marcus’s phone buzzed.
He read the message.
“The shooter used a building across Park Avenue. Professional setup.”
“Vescari?” Julian asked.
“Probably.”
I stared at the broken terrace door.
“No.”
Three men looked at me.
“The angle was wrong.”
Julian frowned.
“What?”
I stood and walked toward the interior wall, visualizing where we had been.
“The first shot hit behind us. Second hit the railing. Third grazed Julian when he moved.”
“That is how shooting works,” Theo said.
“No. If the goal was to kill me, the first shot should have targeted me. I was standing still. Julian was moving after the first shot.”
Marcus’s expression changed.
“The shooter was aiming for Julian.”
I nodded.
“Not me.”
Julian went still.
I continued.
“Daniel said Salvatore thinks I am dangerous. But someone else may think Julian is the problem.”
“Gavin,” Julian said.
I looked at him.
“If Redwood collapses, Gavin is exposed. If you die, maybe Northline continues under him long enough to close the acquisition.”
Marcus swore.
Julian reached for his phone.
Then stopped.
“What?” I asked.
He looked at the clock.
“Northline’s board emergency succession rules.”
My stomach dropped.
“If something happens to you?”
“Gavin becomes interim CEO.”
At that exact moment, every phone in the room buzzed.
A company-wide alert.
NORTHLINE CAPITAL — EXECUTIVE NOTICE.
Due to an unexpected medical incident involving Founder and CEO Julian Rourke, COO Gavin Mercer will assume temporary operational authority effective immediately.
I looked at Julian.
He had not sent it.
May you like
Neither had Marcus.
Gavin Mercer had just tried to take over the company while Julian was still alive.
